From page 1: NHL finally on the first page of the Sporting Green. Lots of folks excited. Pas moi. I have never been able to see the damnable puck. (Is it possible that if I were a Canadian, I'd have better eyesight?) I think I have the puck in my sights, then, voila, it's gone and players are crashing into each other on the boards. Where the hell is the puck? I think I see something round, black,and shiny in the middle of all the skates. But I lose my concentration because two skaters are beating the stuffings out of each other and, unlike the NFL intellectuals, these damn fools have taken off their helmets. There's bound to be blood. I guess fights are one of the reasons some people enjoy watching Canada's national sport, eh? I'd settle for just being able to see the puck enter the net.
Also from page 1: According to Rusty Simmons, Keith Smart didn't get a vote of confidence from the new owners of the Warriors or from Larry Riley, who didn't get much of a vote of confidence from the owners either when they hired his replacement, assistant GM, Bob Meyers, who claims the Warriors are a "volcano ready to erupt." Wow! It's Krakatoa arena not Oracle. Before there is any eruption, the Warriors must find a tough minded five who is able to make opponents think twice about driving into the paint; make sure Monta and Curry understand how to play defense; find a third guard for the rotation who is a lock-down defender; find a point forward who can create off the bounce, (or hope Darell Wright can learn over summer); develop a defensive philosophy, (one that includes a fourth quarter strategy); clean all the dead wood from the bench and start all over again acquiring bench strength (what the heck is Radmanovich and Bell good for? Radmonovich couldn't guard my old grandmother.) I like Jeremy Lim, (as a fourth guard) but can he shoot at all? Beidrens should be ashamed of himself. If the Warriors stay status quo or even close to status quo, the only eruption will be of the hips. Sorry, that was a little crude.
From page 9:What a hoot. Kobe's Lakers and GLAAD - Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation -announced a partnership. Was that partnership in the works before Kobe opened his insensitive mouth? This is called after the fact epiphany. Reminds me of the Nixon bunch going to jail and discovering religion.
More from page 9: Can't wait for the Denver Nuggets, Oklahoma Thunder game tonight. Nothing against Carmelo, but isn't it wonderful to see the Nuggets prove you can be competitive without a "go-to-guy." Besides, Carmelo couldn't guard my old grandmother either. Perhaps the "they don't guard anyone" Knicks should trade for the Warrior's Vladimir, the defensive specialist. (Oops, waited too long to post this. Can't wait for tonight's second game.)
I attended the last game of the Warriors' season against the Portland Blazers and watched a good three point shooting contests, better than the one at the All-Star game, at least. Not much in the way of basketball. Whoever hired the band that plays at the Warrior games, should be forced to sit next to the sax player for the rest of his or her life; no ear plugs allowed.
This hockey poem is too long to type out in it's entirety. The last section, entitled, The Goalie, is the best in my opinion.
The Hockey Poem by Robert Bly
4 The Goalie
And this man with his peaked mask, with slits, how fantastic he is, like a white insect, who has given up on evolution in his life his family hopes to evolve after death, in the grave. He is ominous a a Dark Ages knight...the Black Prince. His enemies defeated him in the day, but every one of them died in their beds that night...At his father's funeral, he carried his own head under his arm.
He is the old woman in the shoe, whose house is never clean, no matter what she does. Perhaps this goalie is not a man at all, but a woman, all women; in her cage everything disappears in the end; we all long for it. All these movements on the ice will end, the advertisements come down, the stadium wall bared... This goalie with his mask is a woman weeping over the children of men, that are cut down like grass, gulls that stand with cold feet on the ice...And at the end, she is still waiting, brushing away the leaves, waiting for the new children developed by speed, by war....
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