NBA CHAMPS

Although it was not the deciding factor, I'm convinced my wife donning her Warriors 46 gold and white v-neck Basketball shirt contributed to the Warriors winning the NBA Championship.

The shirt has history. Throughout the season, whenever Melanie put it on, the Warriors won. So, you see, there's precedent. To give you a better idea of  the shirt's magical powers, we experimented. Sometimes Mel would start watching a game wearing another Warrior T-shirt, a Curry one, for example, or one with my old number on it. Inevitably the Warriors would not play well. But as soon as she changed into her Warriors 46 shirt, the turn around began. The only time the shirt didn't work was at the second game at Oracle. She forgot to put the magic shirt on, and by the time she remembered the Warriors could only mount a comeback.

I'm thinking that my wife's shirt should be hung along side the Championship banner in Oracle Arena.

What a season. I started out not liking the name "Dubs", but I've changed my mind. I think the name does indeed fit. It's very 21st century, and sounds young and enthusiastic and exciting, which is what this group has been from the very beginning.

Listening to Steve Kerr after the game while he was being interviewed, I thought he was being too gentlemanly. Nice to give credit to your opponents, but come on.The Cavs, and the rest of the NBA teams that went down, WENT DOWN to a great Warrior team. HIS TEAM. I know Coach Kerr can't say that, that it would sound too egotistical, but his personality is written all over this group of young men. They would not have won with any other coach.

A big shout to the Warriors owners and management. Successful organization start at the top and their decisions and energy trickle down, all the way down to the ushers and ticket takers.

And finally, a big part of Warrior Nation were the fans, from all over the Bay Area or as it is sometimes pronounce, The Barea, Crazy and loyal and stubborn all these years of supporting with their money and their love.

Ode to the Golden State Warriors, Watching Their Quest for Victory   

One small change and the line reads: Good luck,
Timing, and the stars. This morning I'm still seeing
Curry's three float through the sky of the arena
Reminding me of a lesson in geometry:
An arc is a segment of the circumference
Of the circle - that from foot  (the flat plane of release)
Arcs in silent degrees over the moon into the hoop.

I am watching it with my arm in a sling
Having had my should replaced with titanium,
A smaller science, in my mind, than the one
Curry, and his teammate, Thompson,
Use to make mathematics fun.

As far as my titanium shoulder will allow,
I raise my arm to salute the Splash Brothers
And their teammates, three out of five,
Bogut, Barnes, and Green
And all the other players off the bench,
No small part of the equation called team.
And raise it up again through pain
To honor the others: players and coaches,
Gentry, Adams, and Kerr for his coaching
That were it not intense, looks much like Joy.

Something so old inside me called desire
Yearns to play again, to shake off years,
Travel through the television screen
And be six-six again, called undersized
Like Draymond Green snatching rebounds,
Playing beyond our skills because we will it,
Because we know that timing give us wings.

And wherever they are, the old Warriors,
Nate and Rick, Al and Jeff, I wonder, if like me,
They're watching these new Warriors, Dubs, seeing
How luck, timing, and the stars triangulate.
I'm loving it, sitting back and watching Victory
Happen with the flick of Curry's wrist.  

                             Tom Meschery

Warriors Win, Sixth Game on the Line.

It's essential in the giddy atmosphere of last night's victory over the Cavs in game 5, not to overlook the fact that the Dubs (god I hate that name. Reminds me of those gooey chocolate candies I used to eat in the movies that stuck in my teeth) have only played one full game well, the 3rd in Cleavland, which includes three and a half quarters of last night's game. The Dubs seem to be mesmerized by LeBron's slow down, plodding dribble up court, then are taken by surprise by his sudden bursts of speed. Until, that  is, they wear the King down and find their fourth quarter stride, their mojo of games past. 

There is no reason except James that the Warriors shouldn't have swept the series. I'm not joking. Look at the supporting cast James has. Tristan Thompson, a one dimensional player, albeit a damn good one, Mosgov, a solid center, but no Jabbar, not even a Dwight Howard. JR Smith is a streak player (D has to foul him hard on his first 3 point attempt, make him think; he's not a thinker.) and Shumpert is not a starter on any of the good NBA teams. I'll give it  to Delly for grit, but he does not yet have the skills of a starting point guard in this league like his fellow Gael, Patty Mills possesses.It will come, Delly with hard work.

So, it's a kind of three quarter swoon the "Dubs" go into against the Cavs, as if LeBron is hypnotizing them, "You're getting sleepy, you're forgetting to run, Close your eyes. Vote Republican." Sorry about the politics, but its kind of like that: voting against your best interests.

If the Warriors are going to win in Cleavland, they've got to control tempo from the start with energy, defensive toughness, and team rebounding. No second shots for Thompson, paleeze!

A last note. I noticed that in today's Golden State of the Mind Blog, the writer listed the Warriors and did not include Andrew Bogut. It might be a mistake if the coaching staff forgets about Bogut in this coming Cleavland game. I'm betting Cleavland's coaches are going to go back to Mosgov. They need his offense. Okay, I'm a big Ezili fan for the future, but if Bogut will compete hard, (not just commit hard fouls) he's a vet and knows a lot about the game. He's also a hell of a passer. I don't know why he's played so lousy in the Cavs series, but he could be some help, if only in short minutes against Mosgov on Tuesday night.

Here's part of a poem about track in honor of the Ducks winning both the men's and women's NCAA track Championship in Eugene, Oregon. The poet is William Meissner.

from Death of the Track Star

A magnet pulls at him again
from the finish line, the metal
of his legs is bending, churning.
He feels the choirs of wheezing,
a chestful of cinders.
This is a real running, he thinks, his heart
 beating hard in his heels.

No one can touch him, yet he touches
everyone; the crowd arches
as he breaks string after string
with his toughened throat. . .