First the Etc: Stephen Jackson was a knucklehead when he played in the NBA/Warriors et al, and it appears he is still a knucklehead, calling Leandro Barbosa a "sorry little dude." I'm certain the Leandro does not pay attention to stupid stuff like this,but I felt compelled to say something. Barbosa has more heart in his little finger than Stephen Jackson has in his entire body.
Now to the Dubs. Wow! I have to confess that recently I called my teammate Nate The Great Thurmond worried about the Warriors as they prepared to face the Cavs in the first game. "Tom," Nate said, "Not a problem. The Cavs can't beat the Warriors." We talked about it for a while, and I came away as confident as Nate. Unlike OKC, the Cavs are predictable at all their positions. That doesn't mean that they're not dangerous. Any team with LeBron on it will not go down without a fight, but the top eight players on the team do not surprise (they others are not used); it's like they and the coach sticks to a script, even Kyrie and LeBron's moves are predictable. And how the team as a whole runs their offense and plays defense is also predictable. On defense, for example, after the third pass, they lose focus. The fourth pass will usually get the Dubs a open look. In the last two wins, time and again, I saw the Cavs lose defensive focus after the third pass.
A quick note about last night's Kevin Love concussion. I watched the replays carefully. Harrison came flying in over Love's back and his left elbow, from my perspective, struck Love above the right ear. It didn't look as if the blow could give a person a decent Tylenol headache, but it sure blacked out Love. The first thought that crossed my mind was, whoa, this is the Finals of the NBA, hang in there, don't get eliminated from competition by the NBA Concussion Protocol. As sound as that policy is, you got to lie about how you feel. You are an essential part of the team. One blow to the head is not going to mean early onset dementia. Even if such a thing is possible, you risk it for the NBA Finals. You just do. With your shield or on it.
Sorry for that last comment, I lapsed into melodrama.
So go, Dubs. Bring the NBA Championship home from Cleveland and prove Jim Barnett right.
Saw where Justin Gatlin, our hope for a gold medal in the 100 and 200 m in the Olympics, just won an exhibition race leading up to the big show in Brazil. Here's a Track poem.
Runner by WH Auden
(From Commentary for a Film)
All visible, visibly
Moving things
Spin or swing,
One of the two,
Move as the limbs
Of a runner do,
To and fro,
Forward and back,
Or, as they swiftly
Carry him,
In orbit go
Round an endless track;
So, everywhere, every
Creature disporting
Itself according
To the Law of its making,
In the rivals' dance
Of a balanced pair
Or the right-dance
Round a common center
Delight the eye
By its symmetry
As it changes place,
Blessing the unchangeable
Absolute rest
Of the space they share.
The camera's eye
Does not lie,
But it cannot show
The life within,
The life of a runner
Or yours or mine,
That race which is neither
Fast nor slow
For nothing can ever
Happen twice,
That story which moves
Like music when
Begotten notes
New notes beget,
Making the flowing
Of time a growing,
Till what it could be
At last it is
Where fate is Freedom,
Grace and surprise.
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