Basketball has been good to me from the first day I felt that pebbly surface of the ball when I was eleven years old to now, at 86 years young sitting in front of our TV watching the NBA and cheering for my Dubs. However, these days between cheers, I find myself nodding off. It is not old age that brings on the yawns, it's the game, its endless drive and kick offenses. My eyes begin to glaze over.
I wonder if anybody out there in Blog-reader-land is experiencing the same kind on boredom I am. Please respond and tell me how you're feeling.
As I see it, most of the offensive action centers around a player in a one-on-one situation or dribbling off a screen and diving to the paint looking for a layup or a kick pass to the corner to a player waiting in the corner with his hands out as if praying for the ball like a beggar holding out his hands for alms. It's that pitiful in my mind. Begging, because he knows the 3 pt corner shot is a cheat. It is the easiest 3 at 22 feet from the basket than the 23.9 feet that is the normal three point distance. That's one foot and nine inches closer to the hoop. Yep, a cheat and the NBA game has been diminished by it. That cheat shot makes help defense more difficult, often impossible. It has taken away the natural movement of the game and boiled it down to a few repetitious driving dives, corner shots and end to end fast breaks.
If you see this as a problem, as I do, then the fix is simple: Widen the court so the corner three is 23.9 feet from the basket. Surely, the rich NBA can manage a little additional construction costs. To save the game? It might mean eliminating a rich folk front row seating. Just as well. No more wiping beer spilled on the floor when a player lands out of bounds on someone fan's lap.
WRITE THE NBA: NO MORE CORNER CHEATS. FLOOD THE INTERNET. CALL YOUR LOCAL SPORTS SHOW; SAVE THE GAME.
WAtched the 49ers beat a rugged Chigago Bears team and get closer to first seed in the Western Conference. For the sake of poetry and our 49erss, it's time to repost my ode to Christian McCaffery.
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Who’s a mystery to none at all
He breaks through any D line
He keeps his fans in awe
Defensive coaches’ despair
For when they look to find him
McCaffrey’s not there.
There’s no one like McCaffrey,
He breaks the rules of velocity
His powers of misdirection
Would make magicians stare
For when the tacklers look for him
McCaffrey’s not there.
Or receiving, which is hardly rare
But they are left with weeping
‘Cause McCaffrey’s never there
unless my math is wrong