The 2011-2012 NBA season has not only been one of the shortest to date, but ironically it’s also been one of the most eventful.

Former All-Star Brandon Roy retired the day training camp began.

Current All-Star Dwight Howard suffered a herniated disc right before the playoffs.

The Charlotte Bobcats set a new record for the worst season record ever.

The fans have been on a rollercoaster ride!

But the playoffs are what it’s all been for. We made it, baby.

The postseason looks to be one of the most intense yet, if the regular season is any indication.

So far, in their first games of the postseason, the Chicago Bulls’ All-Star Derrick Rose and the New York Knicks’ bright-futured rookie Iman Shumpert have both torn their anterior cruciate ligaments (one of the four main ligaments of the knee) and are out for the remainder of the postseason.

More recently, we’re hearing that Amar’e Stoudemire of the New York Knicks is out for a couple of games.

After another loss to the Miami Heat, he punched a glass fire extinguisher encasement, causing the glass to break and injuring his hand. Apparently, he misunderstood the meaning of “attacking the glass.”

An underdog Orlando Magic team rose up and defeated the Indiana Pacers at home, which is a great sign for me and my fellow Magic fans.

Basketball just doesn’t get better than this, people!

Personally, I’m most excited to see the Magic-Pacers and Grizzlies-Clippers series in the first round.

Both the Magic and the Pacers would make quite the statement if they made it to the later rounds, and the Grizzlies and the Clippers are just fun to watch.

I could probably watch Chris Paul lob to Blake Griffin for hours on end and not tire of it.

It’s hard to say, though, who’s going to win it all.

With so many talented players, horrific injuries and last-minute hot streaks, it’s really anyone’s trophy.

Teams that would have otherwise been top contenders are struggling after losing important pieces to injury, and underdogs are surprising everyone with road wins.

Ultimately (and I absolutely hate that I’m about to broadcast this), I expect the Heat to take it all.

At least once LeBron finally gets his ring they can stop talking about it on SportsCenter, right?

After three years and 48 issues, I’m sad to say this is my last column as an Aztec Press staffer.

I’m not quite done with my time at Pima Community College, but at some point you have to say that enough is enough.

Five years ago, the University of Arizona taught me that I was spectacularly unprepared for the university system. Even at Pima, I floated through general education classes unsure of what was next. I was concerned I’d be working nights at a sandwich shop for the rest of my life.

On a lark, and going against my high school newsroom experiences, I enrolled in Journalism 101.

There I learned it was possible to do something interesting and important in a newspaper, rather than resign myself to the back page as my editors took the good stories.

A semester later, I began at Aztec Press with an exhibition preview and profile of artist Joseph DiGiorgio. I felt the significance of telling stories of someone’s life that few people had heard.

I followed up with an overview of Internet-dating techniques based on my experiences and an opinion column about strip clubs based on a date that wound up at one.

Shortly after that, thanks to the comedy of errors my life had become, I pitched the idea of a humor column to our adviser, Cynthia Lancaster. It’s evolved over time, becoming “a humor column that isn’t always funny,” according to her. I wear that badge with pride.

I’ve covered the arts, movies, lectures and board meetings. I profiled the lives of students and faculty alike, and reported on policy changes and important hirings and firings within the Pima community.

Column topics covered everything from PCC administration and Arizona gun laws to “Rock Band” and zombies.

With all that said, I ask that you indulge my ramblings one last time.

Thank you to my fellow staffers, past and present. Thanks also to readers for allowing my words to line your tables during lunch, even if you just used them to catch spills.

Thanks especially to my advisers, who are among the most passionate and knowledgeable instructors at PCC. Were it not for them, I most definitely would not be on my way toward a career where people pay me to write stories.

Finally, thanks to PCC’s board of governors, to former chancellor Roy Flores and to the poor souls who will be forced to clean up the mess they’re leaving behind. They provided the kind of trainwreck entertainment that’ll keep me reading Aztec Press for years to come.

See you later, folks.

Athletes are supposed to entertain us, not be our moral mentors. They should not be subject to so much criticism for incidents unrelated to sports.

The world of sports has always been plagued with scandals, but recent news involving University of Arizona Wildcats made me realize the extent of the problem:

• Tucson police arrested several UA football players after women and men were assaulted during a fight at an off-campus party. The players denied the charges.

• Two freshmen from the basketball team transferred due to off-court difficulties. One, a 19-year-old freshman, was recently charged on suspicion of extreme DUI.

• Another basketball player was arrested on charges of domestic violence aggravated assault. He said he is innocent, but his mugshot has been printed in articles nationwide.

Before we pass judgment, consider this: I’ve done things I would not want publicized. I’m sure that’s true for most of you.

Think of your most shameful secret. Now visualize that action displayed in bold headlines for the world to read. Try to imagine, beyond legal repercussions, that you will be ridiculed in blogs or on “Saturday Night Live” skits for years to come.

This nightmare is an unfortunate reality for many athletes. Apparently having athletic talent is synonymous with being a role model.

Parents need to instill values in their children, not hope that their favorite athletes will behave well offscreen.

If athletes wanted to help others follow the right path in life, they would have pursued careers as life coaches or social workers.

It’s especially aggravating that these personal issues, which would be private matters for any ordinary citizen, become more newsworthy than their athletic achievements themselves.

I am not saying that I agree with all of their antics.

However, I do believe you should consider your own worst behavior before you judge a stranger’s morality.

 PCC journalism student Case watches sports for entertainment, not self-improvement.

There is always a risk of getting pregnant when you and your partner have sex with or without contraceptives.

If a woman is in a loving relationship and has full ability to take care of her baby, being pregnant should be the happiest news she ever receives.

An unwanted pregnancy is the worst possibility I can imagine. That is especially true if the woman has been raped.

In most cases, however, abortion is the coward’s way out. Abortions are risky and even potentially life-threatening.

There are many ways of doing the right thing, but killing babies who can’t speak for themselves is not one of them.

Every baby should have the opportunity to listen to a lullaby and smell fresh spring flowers.

There are many families that would adopt any baby a woman doesn’t want.

Every decision matters, because each one changes your life’s direction. Having a child in your life could be good or it could bring you difficulties.

An embryo might be a little thing but it is still a life, and one that could give your world meaning. If you wait, the baby could become your biggest joy.

It’s hard to take sides on the issue when you haven’t been in that situation, but abortion is almost never the right decision.

If you don’t want to deal with the possibility of getting pregnant, stop having sex.

It’s worth waiting for the right person, the one with whom you’ll create your family.

Orendain, a full-time journalism student, plans to have at least five children after she finishes her career.

I’ve been a full-time student since I graduated from high school, at times simultaneously working full time. Unfortunately, now I can’t take on as much.

A couple of months ago, I suffered a panic attack. It happened because I put my body through lots of stress, for a long time.

I lacked sleep, worked 50 hours a week, skipped meals, went to school full time and never listened to my body trying to tell me it was exhausted.

By the time I decided to listen, the damage had been done.

I started having episodes of anxiety attacks. I wasn’t the same anymore. I wasn’t able to take on everything and anything.

I used to be able to do so much and now even doing a little is hard.

It’s hard to focus, to pay attention. The worst part is that anxiety can bring other complications into my life if I’m not careful.

I should have listened to my body. I was too busy trying to finish school quickly while working, but it affected my health. If I could press rewind, I would.

It is great to go to school but don’t take on too much if you can’t handle it.

If you have to work, take on only the hours you need. Taking on too much is not worth the cost of your health.

Finish school at your pace and enjoy the experience. Exercise, eat right, sleep your full eight hours and be nice to yourself. There is no need to put your body through extra stress—especially if it’s stress that you can control.

Avila exercises, takes long walks in the park and reads when she wants to take a break from the world.

During one of our “dates,” in which we spend time together by playing different video games in different spots of the same room, my girlfriend mentioned something staggering:

“I’ve played this game for 90 hours.”

That’s 90 hours on my Xbox over the past two months. She’s spent countless hours playing the same game on a computer at her own home.

That made me curious about my own gameplay statistics.

Spoiler alert: They’re terrifying.

I’ve played nearly a day’s worth of time in “Civilization V.” I’ve spent 86 hours in “Fallout: New Vegas.” The big kicker is “Team Fortress 2.” In more than three years of ownership, I’ve played nearly 850 hours. A month and change.

This doesn’t take into account the time I’ve spent playing Xbox. I hesitate to look into my “Halo 3” and “Halo Reach” statistics, because I may throw up in disgust.

In the story of my life, an entire volume’s worth of space would be spent detailing my video gaming habits (An excerpt: “He was an awful sniper, constant sneak and unrepentant power-up thief: may God have mercy on his soul.”)

I’ve always struggled against self-labeling as a “gamer” alongside other such titles as “journalist,” “funny guy” and “perpetual community college student.”

But I think this is my limit.

I’ve had trouble quitting games at times, to the point where one could claim I was addicted. It’s a charge I’m not sure I could deny.

Based on the numbers above, I’ve spent five weeks of my life at my PC, gaming. I could have driven from San Francisco to New York City nearly seven times.

So I’m done — for a little while, at least.

No more Xbox or Nintendo DS or iPod gaming. Not for two weeks, from the publication of this column to the publication of our next issue.

We’ll see how long I can make it without caving in and playing something like “NBA Jam” or “Angry Birds.”

I’m guessing I’ll last at least 10 days before I relapse, but who knows? Maybe I’ll actually get something worthwhile done during those days without a controller.

 If you bet on how long he’ll last, Mendez hopes you will let him in on the action. He isn’t quitting gambling, after all. 

By THOMAS F. JOHNSON

A rich guy goes into a talent agency and says to the agent, “I’ve got a hell of an act for you.”

 “Lemme hear it,” says the talent agent.

 “So me and my cronies come out on the stage and start demanding that the political system stop trying to regulate us. Then, with our powers of lobbying, we slowly flay away all regulations constraining us until there’s nothing but a skeleton of government left.

 “Meanwhile, our political friends in the audience start destroying or preventing any and all things that might be a threat to us, such as public health care, public education and even aid to the poor!

“That way, we’re the only game in town. It’ll be awesome, like Gallagher but with fundamental human rights rather than plain ol’ watermelons!”

The talent agent looks horrified, but the rich guy continues.

“But it gets better! Then we take the politicians from the audience and rip out all their teeth. We cut ‘em up and make them ineffectual, so they can do nothing as we spread our tendrils across the audience! The screaming is always the best part.

“We will dominate them, creating a world shaped in our corporate image, smothering their hearts in a plutocratic world, the political system a desperate husk we can puppeteer as we please.

“We’ve made the strings of gold, and we’ve got a little puppet dance-number planned, called ‘A Boot Stamping on A Human Face Forever’

“None shall resist, as those who do will be called socialists and ground down to pink sludge even as we create fascism in our wake. They will know us as gods, and they will tremble.”

“That’s horrible!” says the talent agent, reaching for his revolver. “What do you call it?”

The rich guy just laughs maniacally and screams at the top of his lungs, “The Aristorcrats!”

Johnson thinks this is probably the vilest incarnation of the Aristocrats joke.

Time for a logic check: I wear a hoodie, therefore I look like a criminal.

If you disagree with that statement, congratulations! You’re a human being with normal thought processes.

If you agree, you may very well be prone to embarrassing yourself with terrible stunts and asinine statements.

Like Geraldo Rivera.

On March 23, Rivera tweeted that Trayvon Martin’s hoodie was responsible for his death – that it made him look suspicious enough for armed neighborhood watch captain George Zimmerman to report him to police as suspicious, then follow him in spite of police dispatch recommendations.

What happened after wasn’t clear, though the result was: Martin was later pronounced dead at the scene, killed by a gunshot to the chest.

It’s a sad story, and the discussions it raises about racism, paranoia and gun laws – particularly “Stand Your Ground” laws – in this country are more than valid.

What’s not valid is Rivera choosing to take the focus off of the serious cultural issues at hand, and replace them with a discussion about sweatshirts.

He later Tweeted (and keep in mind, this is exactly how he wrote it [sic]): “Its not blaming the victim Its common sense-look like a gangsta&some armed schmuck will take you at your word”.

Listen: Blaming what a person is wearing for the act against them is blaming the victim. It’s not very far removed from its equally reprehensible brother (trigger warning ahead), the “she was asking for it, look at what she was wearing!” defense.

Blaming crimes on clothing is stupid. Saying that a young man’s sweatshirt killed him is stupid. In fact, the only thing that would be more stupid would be bringing in Trayvon Martin’s shoes and jeans for questioning under suspicion that they were accessories to the homicide.

I get that life must be hard for Geraldo Rivera. After graduating from the University of Arizona, he’s gone from legitimate journalist to shameful performance artist. (I wouldn’t call anyone with a show on Fox News either a journalist or an entertainer, so performance artist it is.)

In between, he made stops as national embarrassment and daytime talk show host.

Rivera has since commented on the stir on Facebook, writing, “‘I apologize to anyone offended by what one prominent black conservative called my,[sic] “very practical and potentially life-saving campaign urging black and Hispanic parents not to let their children go around wearing hoodies.”

He also admitted that his “campaign” diverted attention from the fact that Zimmerman was barely investigated by the local police.

Good for you, Geraldo. But here’s an idea: Take your apology to heart. Drop your “campaign” against sweaters. Focus on the fact that Zimmerman has not been properly scrutinized by the authorities.

With luck, we’ll be able to put this all behind us. Until then, I’ll continue to prove that a Hispanic male can walk around in a hooded sweatshirt without causing suspicion.

Mendez is co-editor in chief of the Aztec Press. His hoodie makes him look like a hoodlum.