British Commonwealth Games and Game Changers

COMMONWEALTH GAMES

When you think careflly about the Commonwealth Games, you can't help but come to the conclusion that it is one of the best political flim flam jobs perpetrated on a group of independent countries in the history of the modern world. Something akin to Pax Romana at a time when there certainly was not the advertised peace the Roman Emperors purported to exist. 

Just give eit some thought: How can you account for Pakistan, a staunch Muslim country, the island countries of Oceaana, Bangladesh, Ireland, Australia, India that fought like tigers for their independence, Create and Canada, and many other nations, all at one time ruled with an iron hand by the British, with the help of the greatest navy extant, to come together in the spirit of joyful athletic? 

Whoa, Dude, who though this up? It had to be some ad guy sitting in his London office, leaping suddenly from his desk and saying, "Baby, let me twll you what I just came up with!" Okay, so it was a guy named Melliville Mark Robinson in 1930 whose idea it was. Ad men ween't around in those days to say "Aha, let's throw this against the wall and see it it sticks." Give him credit when credit is due. 

In 1930 to  1950 the games were called The British Empire Games, a Pan Britannic Pan Anglican Cntest and Festival. In 1962, the name was changed to The British Empire and Commonwealth Games. In 1974 the name became the British Commonwealth Games. Today they are called The Commonwealth Games. Historically, these games celebrated the British Empire. Today they celebrate countries with a common language - English. I guess that's why the United States is not invited. 

Am I making a point? Probably not. I could suggest that people with a common language don't always produce the best athlete. For me, I just couldn't stop thinking that this was the Commonwealth Games was the nation of England's greatest PR victory, and just slightly linguistically arrogant. 

GAME CHANGERS

There have only been 3 Game Changers in the history of basketball. Maybe 4 if you count James Neismith who changed the game from its origian Azetc version. 

Before I say who the 3 are, it's necessary to acknowledge those players who evolved the sport of basketball. Evolved is different from changed. The evolutionary players were, in my opinion, those who improved on and advances the skill-sets of the day. Centers: Mikan to Chamberlain to Olajuwon to Jabbar to Shaq. Guards: Cousy to the Big O to Earl the Pearl, to Magic to Iverson to Stockton. Forwards (stretch 3s): Elgin, to Julius Irving to The Hawk, to Bird to the  Ice Man t to Jordan. Forwards (stretch 4s): Heinsohn and Pettit to Zelmo to Mauric Lucas to  Karl Malone to Tim Duncan to Draymond Green. I'm leaving players out. Your call to add to the list.  I won't argue. For ecample Scottie Pippen could be in either the stretch 3 or stretch 4 catergory. The criteria is that they advanced the skill-set in that position. 

But only THREE basketball players did more than just imporve the way the game is played through their talent, but changed the game itself to something different. The three are in my opinion: 1) Angelo-Giuseppi "Hank" Luisetti who turned the game upside down by popularizing the jump shot. Prior to that the game was played on the ground. After Hank, the game would be played in the air. 2) William Felton Russell. Bill made the NBA change its rules for playing in the paint, no funneling the ball into the hoop, no blocking the shot on the way down The design of the key was changed. 3) Stephan Curry. Steph Curry turned the game of basketball into a 3pt game. (The ABA deserves a nod here as the 3 pt line was the invention of that red, white and blue league.) However, it is no coincidence that after Steph Curry there is not a high school or college player who does not concentrate on perfecting or improving his 3 pt shot. The game today is played entirely on the perimeter because of Steph.  

Here's one of my all time favorite baseball poems. It deserves repeating.

PASTTIME   by Emilio de Grazia

A girl, nine years of wonder
still on her face,
stands directly on third
running amazed fingers along the wrinkles
of my old leather mitt.
It is  the bottom of  the ninth
and everywhere in the world 
the bases are loaded.

William Felton Russell

 I never seen an Eagle with a beard. This was the first line of a poem I wrote about Bill Russell at a time when I had no idea how to write poetry. t was in 1970. my last year in the NBA, in Seattle as a Sonic. I was trying for a predator bird image. Eagle seemed right to me and regal enough to describe the way Bill Russel, already a legend with the Boston Celtic, would swoop down upon his opponents and block shots or so intimidate them that there was no recourse except to give up the effort and pass to a teammate. Upon hearing of Bill's death, my son found a photograph of me playing against the Celtics. I was crouched in the paint, holding the ball in my hands, looking up at Bill Russell between me and the basket with his long wings of arms spread high above me. I was probably thinking to myself, "What the f--k do I do now?"

 Bill Russell grew up in Oakland,CA. i grew up just across the bay in San Francisco. Bill was four years older than me, so we never played against each other in high school, but we played against each other, not often, but occasionally on the playgrounds. I was in the stands in Kezar Pavilion when Bill's team, the USF Dons destroyed the University of California Bears, a team that was considered at the time to be one of the best college basketball teams in the country. Their center, a 6'10" All-Star, Bill Mckean, couldn't get a shot off with Bill's long wings guarding him. KC Jones was the point gfuard on that team. KC would follow Bill to the Cettics and would eventually, like his teammate, join him in the Basetball Hall of Fame. I was a high school baller about to go to college with no idea that in the future I would find myself in the Bosgton Garden, crouched in the paint with Bill Russell hovering over me wondering how I got into this mess. 

Many years later, both of us retired, Bill Felton Russell wrote a wonderful blurb for the back of my third collection of poety: Sweat: New and Selected Poems About Sports. For whic I remain eternally grateful. 

So much has already been said about Bill in the newspapers and in the media and on the internet that there is little more I can add in the way of flattery. He will always be the greatest defensive center in basketball. i daresay there is not a center that ever played in the NBA, in the present and in the futrure, that Bill would not be able to shut down. There is not a player at any position, past, present or future, be he Michael Jordan, Kobe Bryant, Luka Doncic that would not, like this writer, wind up in the paint with the ball in his hands crouching and looking up terrified at the looming presence of William Felton Russell above him. 

As for his well known advocacy for his race, like his play on the court, Bill would swoop down upon the racists. They felt his talons. He gave them no quarter, he suffered no fools. He will be looking down upon them in their darkest hells from his greaestt heights.

Here's the poem I wrote in 1970 from my first collection of poetry, Over the Rim All I can think of as I read this poem now is how menacing I must have thought of Bill's defense. 

To Bill Russell       by Tom Meschery

I have never seen
an eagle with a beard
but if there is
in some strange 
corner of the world
and the Hindu 
belief is true,
you will return
and beat your wings
violently
over my grave.