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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.

Thursday, May 26, 2022

A Little Bit of a Lot

Do yourselves a favor and read the article in The Athletic today about Ukranian Slava Medvedenko, Shaquille O'Neal's backup on the Lakers' teams of the early 2000's. Slava is defending his country from Putin's army. It is a story of bravery and resolve. He has invited Shaq to come to his home country to visit and appear in support of the Ukranian people. The minute  the playoffs are over, Shaq should go. 

I've become a big fan of Marcs Thompson's sports writing. How can you not with lines such as these, talking about our dear Dubs: "The Warriors have shown they can take their foot off the pedal. If they've got room for error, they're not above using it." Makes an old retired rhetoric teacher's heart glad. Let's not take the foot off the pedal tonight, okay?

When I read that the Sacramento Kings have hired two assistant coaches and it is not mentioned that newly hired Coach Brown has not approved the hire, I start to worry. Hiring assistants should be exclusively the job of the head coach, not the job of the GM or the owner. 

Absolutly loved the comeback by the Warriors reserves two nights ago. Kerr kept them in even after a worried Coach Kidd brought back his starters. The comeback continued until the 25 plus deficit was reduced to 8 points. Might have been interesting to see what the reserves could have done had they been left in after that. I believe in miracles. 

Glad to see the 49ers comitt to Trey Lance at QB for next season. Also delighted to see that the Raiders are evaluating Colin Kaepernick as a back up QB. What I saw breifly on TV, Colin looks in great shape. Congrats to the Raiders for showing some courage, giving Colin that chance to prove himself when no other NFL team had the cajones. 

Joel Embid complains about not being selected NBA MVP, "What more can I do?" He asks. Okay, for starters: learn to shoot deep 3 pt shots like Jokic; learn to pass/assist like Jokic; learn to facilitate the offense like Jokic. End of story. jokic is Chapter One, you're Chapter Two. 

Great Coach Kerr line about Luka Doncic, "He can make 3 pt jumpers in his sleep." I think Kerr was talking about nightmares. Still, the ball stays in Luka's hands too long. When the rest of the Mavs' team is handdling the ball and getting shot opportunities, the Mavs are a much tougher team than when they rely mostly on Luka. Tonight at Chase Center we'll see if the Warriors can close out the series. 

Don't forget WNBA star, Brittany Griner, a prisoner in Russia. Write letters, Email, Instagram, get on Facebook. Get angry sports fans!

While 50 Republican Senators refuse to pass a basic gun control law HR 8 that would tighten background checks, another 19 elementary school children have been murdered by a guntotting crazy in the town of Uvalde,Texas. (The greatest of shame upon you senators.)

The following poem was written after the Nazi airforce bombed the city of Guernica during the Spanish Civil War. God will do the same for the dead children of Uvalde, I pray.

IN GUERNICA THE DEAD CHILDREN   by Norman Roston

In Guernica the dead children were laid out in order on the sidewalk

In their white starched dresses.

In their pitiful white dresses.

On their foreheads and breasts, the little roud holes

Where death came in like thunder

While they were playing their important summer games.

Do not weep for them Madre

They are gone forever, the little ones

Straight to heaven to the Saints

And God will fill their bullet holes with candy.