Curtain up at The Q

I think it was near the end of the second quarter, when LeBron James finished drinking his Mark Price juice and procceded to can four three-pointers in the span of three minutes.
A man sitting in the row behind us in section 200 held his breath as LeBron hoisted a fifth longball, which bounced off the rim.
"If he had made that one, I would have just cashed my ticket in and gone home," the man said after exhaling.
He didn't make it apparent whether he was a disgruntled Hornets fan (not likely) or a Cavs fan who figured he had seen just about everything he could possibly see for one night from LeBron.
I wasn't there to see his reaction after LeBron took a feed from Larry Hughes in the first quarter and performed his first official poster dunk of the 2005-06 season. But I was there to see just about everything else.
The Cavaliers did what they were supposed to do opening night, burying the Hornets, one of the league's dregs, 109-87. LeBron led the arena with 31 points, and was one of five Cavs in double figures, including the entire 2005 free agent class: Hughes (10), Damon Jones (12), Donyell Marshall (18) and Zydrunas Ilgauskas (12).
On opening night at least, GM Danny Ferry looked like a genius with his off-season moves.
That little problem of not being able to shoot from the outside looked like ancient history Wednesday as well. In addition to LeBron's outburst, Marshall and Jones also contributed three-balls. The Cavs tied an opening-night team record with 13 threes and shot a egg-frying 54 percent from the field.
The Cavs still have interior defense problems (which will probably be exploited royally by Tim Duncan Friday night) and had some cold spells at the free-throw line, but for a team that only had a month of training camp to come together, even the most skeptical scribe on press row had to give this team high marks Wednesday.
The team wasn't the only "extreme makeover" story unfolding Wednesday. The Cavs opener was also the official unveiling of the rechristened Quicken Loans Arena. Out are blue seats and classic rock, in are hip-hop, Ronnie Duncan, wine-colored seats (still in the process of being installed) and quasi-erotic dancing from the Cavalier Girls.
When we took our seats at the end of the first quarter, the first thing we saw were the Cavalier Girls on the floor cavorting to a song that included the lyrics, "is your girlfriend hot like me/is your girlfriend freak like me." Right then, I knew the Cavs were measuring their non-basketball entertainment in inverse proportion to the NBA's dress code.
The other entertainment snippets included Cavs mascot Moondog stripping out of a suit, down to his tighty-whitey underpants, a playful send-up of NBA Commissioner David Stern and his recently-implemented business casual dress code.
Call it PG-13 entertainment, if naked stuffed dogs embarrass you in addtition to hot cheerleaders slinking around with exposed midriffs. At least they weren't dancing to Britney Spears' "I'm a Slave 4 U."
(Incidentally, Stern was on hand Wednesday night, got booed when his image was flashed on the scoreboard, and was quoted in today's Plain Dealer as saying he loved the new environment at The Q.)
Out in the concourse, I was stopped by a member of the "Cavs Team" who surveyed me about my overall entertainment experience. He asked me to assign numerical grades to various aspects of the non-basketball entertainment, one being the lowest and seven the highest.

Here are a few of my grades:

Cavalier Girls: five
I can't really judge the girls, because I haven't seen other NBA dance groups in action. But if one means "Who unlocked the primate building at the zoo?" and seven means "I'm supressing an erection every time they dance," I think five is a fair grade. The girls were alluring, but I could still concentrate on the game.

Moondog: five
To me, one thing sets NBA mascots apart from mascots in other sports: feats of athleticism. The Gorilla in Phoenix kind of raised the bar in the 1980s with his off-the-wall dunks. Moondog does some of that, but his shtick is pretty much slapstick hijinks like a baseball mascot. His stuffed-puppy-dog face doesn't score points with me either. I know mascots have to appeal to little kids, but there isn't anything wrong with adding a bad-ass edge to your animal of choice, some broad shoulders or a bit of a smirk. Think of the Timberwolves' wolf mascot or the Nuggets' mountain lion.

Ronnie Duncan: four
The Cavs' public address announcer is coached in the mold of Pistons' PA man Mason, who treats the job like he's a rap emcee. Duncan's job is to be loud, louder and loudest. Except when the the opposing team scores a hoop. Then, from the upper deck, it sounds more like "baskert by Hrmfzzlm. Three pntfs."
Duncan has gotten better that when I saw him in an exhibition game three weeks ago. At the time, he barely knew the pronunciations of some of the opposing players' names. Wednesday, he was noticeably clearer, but still needs some improvement. Duncan at least has a long history behind a microphone working for him. He is a veteran Cleveland TV and radio broadcaster.