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What my musings are all about...

Blogging might well be the 21st century's form of journaling. As a writing teacher, I have always advised my students to keep a daily journal as a way of organizing their thoughts for future writing projects, a discipline I have unfortunately never consistently practiced myself. By blogging, I might finally be able to follow my own good advice.

The difference between journaling and blogging is that the blogger opens his or her writing to the public, something journal- writers are usually reluctant to do. I am not so reticent.

The trick for me will be to avoid cluttering the internet with more blather, something none of us need more of. If I stick to subjects I know: sports and literature, I believe I can avoid that pitfall. I can't promise that I'll not stray from time to time to comment on ancillary subjects, but I will make every attempt to be interesting and perhaps even insightful.

Sunday, January 29, 2017

Steph, his Teammates and Joy on the Hardwood

Certainly, anyone watching Steph Curry last night against the Clippers bury the half court jumper just before the halftime buzzer sounded would have to impressed. Okay, he's done it before and sometimes from longer range, so maybe you weren't jumping up and down impressed, but I was.

The reason for my excitement was not the actual shot itself, but the joy exhibited by Steph after the shot, His leap and bounce with Draymond, his airplane slide on the hardwood, the smile on his face, the victory dance of Durant and the other Warriors on the court and on the bench. For me, that was the tell. Let it be said over and over again, team chemistry, team expectations, team joy and camaraderie is what makes a true championship team. As a Warrior, I will always relish as many NBA Championship trophies the Dubs can lift over their heads, but their championship soul is what matters. And they've got it, baby, they've got it.

On to other subjects. Baring injuries, I think we NBA fans are looking at the next monster hall of fame center in Joel Embid of the Philadelphia 76ers.

It's also interesting that all of a sudden the NBA, which looked like it was going Small Ball, has some pretty damn good Bigs: Cousins, Townes, Porzingis, Embid, and the always powerful Marc Gasol. Porzingis is a "stretch" power forward, but he is 7'3" and once he figures out how to work the post, he'll be in-and-out awesome. I could probably throw in the fast improving Miles Turner of the Pacers. Lots and lots of potential in the middle there. I guess I'm a Big's fan, having come from the era of Russell, Chamberlain, Bellamy, Thurmond, Bob Lanier, Willis Reed, and Jabbar.And on the cusps of my time, Moses Malone, and Bill Walton.

Finally, the team with the talented Big Man, will still win out, historically, over the small ball team. But to hedge my bets and give me a little wiggle room, the Warriors are well on their way to prove me wrong. Except, wouldn't they love to have Joel Embid on their team? Wouldn't any team?

Sometimes you can feel when something is right. In this case Kyle Shannahan as the 49ers new head coach does. Here in the BAY AREA where his dad cut his football coaching teeth. Makes for a full circle.

And lets not forget, as we delve into today's sports page, the Williams sisters playing against each other in the finals of the Aussi Open. Serena won, but she doesn't always. 17-11 Serena over Venus lifetime. If Serena had chosen basketball as her sport, I suggest to you she might very well have been the first woman to play in the NBA. She's got more muscles than a lot of the  NBA players, past and present. One day it's going to happen, a three point shooting female point or two guard in the NBA.

Love it that Pop would bench Trump. Hell, I'd cut him and let him try out for the Euro League. Since Trump doesn't believe NATO is relevant, I doubt he'd make it in Europe. On a Russian team maybe, since he's such a big fan of that KGB thug, Putin.

Lot's of praise for Curry, here's a haiku I wrote for Durant.

Durant

His arm snakes backward
   Basketball cupped in his hand
Cobra coiled to strike 


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