Are NBA fans really witnessing a transition from the Old Guard to the New? Lots of talk about that in the sports pages, radio, TV. I wouldn't go so far. Consider the teams that made it to the finals of the eastern and western division finals: Mavericks vs Thunder and Heat vs Bulls. Of all the players on the four teams, there are only three bona fide new super stars: Rose, Durant, and Westbrook. You can't really call Lebron, D Wade, and Bosh youngster any more. Wade is 29, Bosh and James are 27 and they've all three played over seven years in the NBA. Go back into all the teams that made the playoffs. You can't call Dwight Howard at 26 one of the New Guard. Nor can you say the same for Amare Stoudemire at 29,or Carmelo Anthony at 27. So tell me who among playoff participants, aside from Rose, Durant, and Westbrook, are the New Guard? Serge Ibaka, maybe? But I doubt it. I suppose all this New Guard fuss must include players from non playoff teams like Tyreke Evans and Demarcus Cousins of the Kings. The jury is still out on both of them. Tyreke can't shoot and Cousins is still in need of a good therapist. Blake Griffin, of course. But again, he doesn't have a complete game - yet. But I won't quibble as he is a true future star as is Rajon Rando. There is no doubt we are saying goodbye to some stalwart supers in the 4th quarter of their careers: Tim Duncan, Kevin Garnett, Ray Allen, Jason Kidd, Steve Nash, and maybe Manu, but the players filling the gap, are certainly not the young guns, at least not yet. The super stars of the NBA are the stars that we have been enjoying for awhile, those who are starting the 3rd quarter of their careers and still have quite a way to go before their retirement.
Damn brave of Rick Welts of the Phoenix Suns to revel he is gay. The NBA has been leading the charge against immigration discrimination (Los Suns), and recently against gay and lesbian discrimination (It's not cool to use the word Gay pejoratively). Right on. Perhaps some of the NBA's gay players will come out of the closet. You don't believe there are any? Really?
I've always loved Carlos Santana's music. So I was delighted to see he admonished Alabama and Arizona for their immigration laws when he was awarded the Beacon of Light Award before the Phillies-Braves game.
Stanford Women's Water Polo team won the National Championship against the University of California Bears. Am I mistaken or are we talking about two teams from Northern California going Uno and Dos for the National Title. Imagine the publicity a match up like that would generate if it were basketball or football. The Big Game for the BCS Championship, or the Bears vs Cardinals winding up in the NCAA Finals. Would you think that news of those events would be stuck in a lower right hand column on page 2?
The history of the Golden State Warriors first round and second round draft picks is nothing to be proud of. Not that other NBA teams histories are that much better, but as an ex Warrior and fan, I'm not interested in other teams. I want our front office guys to do a better job. I want to see a break with the past. What do I mean by the past? Since 1985, the Warriors have selected only four quality players: Chris Mullins, Mitch Richmond, Jason Richardson, and Stephan Curry. I would include Chris Webber but he is one of my least favorite players, and he let the Warriors down with his selfish performances. Of the four, only Mullins can be considered a game changer. And if you go to the web site, Golden State of the Mind, you can log on to all the stars the Warriors missed out on, a list that makes me wonder if the family parakeet wasn't making our team's selection. The following players were available, but the Warriors passed over: Kevin Garnett, Kobe Bryant, Trancy McGrady, Dirk Nowitski, Andri Kirilenko, Tony Parker, Amare Stoudimire, Carlos Boozer, David West, Josh Smith, and Joakim Noah.
So, what does it take to make shrewd and knowledgeable draft choices? Lots and lots of hard work and plenty of assistant coaches on the road watching tons of college games. I also suspect those coaches and scouts better have a first hand knowledge of the NBA, not just of college ball. It might be too late to make changes, but whoever has been doing the scouting for our team, well, can our new owners trust them to make better decisions this year and into the future? Track records speak for themselves, don't they?
For all you fans who like good basketball stories, I recommend Counting Coup by Larry Colton, a true account of a high school girl's basketball team on the Crow Indian reservation. It is funny, tragic, intelligent, and loving.
Here's a poem by Sherman Alexie, a Native American writer and basketball player.
Penance
I remember sun-
days when the man I
call my father made
me shoot free throws, one
for every day of my life
so far. I remember
the sin of imperfect
spin, the ball falling in-
to that moment between
a father and forgive-
ness, between the hands reach-
ing up and everything
they can possibly hold.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
San Francisco Chronicle Sporting Green, May 10, 2001
Why am not feeling sorry for NBA and NFL athletes who are rushing to have their divorce settlements reduced because of the lockout? Could they possibly argue that after years of being paid extraordinary sums of money, they can't afford to make the payments they agreed upon to support their children? Now if these were school teachers being locked out, or factory workers who've lost jobs to out-sourcing, I could be more understanding. Should we feel sorry for Antonio Cromartie who has had nine children by eight different women? Does he belong in the knucklehead club, or what? I admit Cromartie is an extreme example, but do you know that the divorce rate among athletes is 80%? Furthermore, must I feel sad for these fellows who buy 10,000 square foot homes now scurrying to their nearest banks to refinance their mortgages. I wonder if those folks who have been jobless for the last couple of years and lost their homes are sympathetic? Or how about the people who were hoodwinked by greedy brokers and mortgage bankers into buying homes that are today upside down in value? Are those poor folks wringing their hands over the predicament of the professional athletes? Our entire economy is upside down, and these spoiled children we call roll models are crying poor. Give me a break!
I was amazed to read that the NFL is just now considering testing their athletes for Human Growth Hormones. Check out the neck sizes of some of these behemoths. Hmm!
Today's sports contains an article about the Giants' players growing beards thus promoting a rash of sympathetic fans to grow beards too. It's called the Fear the Beard Syndrome. You want to know how it got started? Back in the 2007 NBA season, my son Matthew and his friend Dan started a website for Baron Davis, the Warriors' bearded point guard and called it Fear the Beard. It became an extremely popular site during an exciting season in which the Warriors, an 8th seeded team in the playoffs, knocked off the #1 seeded Dallas Mavericks. Is this where the Memphis Grizzlies got the idea to grow beards in this years' playoff? The Giants? If the beard craze continues, pretty soon all professional athletes will look like Presidents Ulysses S Grant or Rutherford B Hayes, not to mention fans who will also be wearing Fear the Beard T-shirts and caps. I understand an entire line of men's Fear the Beard clothing is being considered. If you don't believe that my son started this, Baron Davis still has his website, check it out, the first of its kind. My son and his friend, woe is me, failed to obtain a copyright on the logo.
Before there were Human Growth Hormones, there was Big Daddy Lipscomb.
Goodbye to Big Daddy by Randall Jarrell.
Big Daddy Lipscomb, who used to help them up
After he'd pulled them down, so that "the children
Won't think Big Daddy's mean": Big Daddy Lipscomb,
Who stood unmoved among the blockers, like the Rock
Of Gibraltar in a life insurance ad,
Until the ball carrier came, and Daddy got him;
Big Daddy Lipscomb, being carried down an aisle
Of women by Night Train Lane, John Henry Johnson,
And Lenny Moore; Big Daddy, his three ex-wives,
His fiancee, and the grandfather who raised him
Going to his grave in five big Cadillacs;
Big Daddy, who found football easy enough, life hard enough
In his yellow Cadillacs - to die of heroin;
Big Daddy, who was scared, he said: "I've been scared
Most of my life. You wouldn't think so to look at me.
It gets so bad I cry myself to sleep -" his size
Embarrassed him, so that he was helped my smaller men
And hurt by smaller men; Big Daddy Lipscomb
Has helped to his feet the last ball carrier, Death.
The big black man in the television set
Whom the viewers stared at - sometimes, almost were -
Is a blur now; when we get up to adjust the set,
It's not the set, but a NETWORK DIFFICULTY.
The world won't be the same without Big Daddy.
Or else it will be.
I was amazed to read that the NFL is just now considering testing their athletes for Human Growth Hormones. Check out the neck sizes of some of these behemoths. Hmm!
Today's sports contains an article about the Giants' players growing beards thus promoting a rash of sympathetic fans to grow beards too. It's called the Fear the Beard Syndrome. You want to know how it got started? Back in the 2007 NBA season, my son Matthew and his friend Dan started a website for Baron Davis, the Warriors' bearded point guard and called it Fear the Beard. It became an extremely popular site during an exciting season in which the Warriors, an 8th seeded team in the playoffs, knocked off the #1 seeded Dallas Mavericks. Is this where the Memphis Grizzlies got the idea to grow beards in this years' playoff? The Giants? If the beard craze continues, pretty soon all professional athletes will look like Presidents Ulysses S Grant or Rutherford B Hayes, not to mention fans who will also be wearing Fear the Beard T-shirts and caps. I understand an entire line of men's Fear the Beard clothing is being considered. If you don't believe that my son started this, Baron Davis still has his website, check it out, the first of its kind. My son and his friend, woe is me, failed to obtain a copyright on the logo.
Before there were Human Growth Hormones, there was Big Daddy Lipscomb.
Goodbye to Big Daddy by Randall Jarrell.
Big Daddy Lipscomb, who used to help them up
After he'd pulled them down, so that "the children
Won't think Big Daddy's mean": Big Daddy Lipscomb,
Who stood unmoved among the blockers, like the Rock
Of Gibraltar in a life insurance ad,
Until the ball carrier came, and Daddy got him;
Big Daddy Lipscomb, being carried down an aisle
Of women by Night Train Lane, John Henry Johnson,
And Lenny Moore; Big Daddy, his three ex-wives,
His fiancee, and the grandfather who raised him
Going to his grave in five big Cadillacs;
Big Daddy, who found football easy enough, life hard enough
In his yellow Cadillacs - to die of heroin;
Big Daddy, who was scared, he said: "I've been scared
Most of my life. You wouldn't think so to look at me.
It gets so bad I cry myself to sleep -" his size
Embarrassed him, so that he was helped my smaller men
And hurt by smaller men; Big Daddy Lipscomb
Has helped to his feet the last ball carrier, Death.
The big black man in the television set
Whom the viewers stared at - sometimes, almost were -
Is a blur now; when we get up to adjust the set,
It's not the set, but a NETWORK DIFFICULTY.
The world won't be the same without Big Daddy.
Or else it will be.
Friday, April 29, 2011
NBA TV Analyists
I'm happy to see that Craig Sager is back to wearing his outlandish costumes again. At the start of the NBA post game season (I call it a season because it lasts longer than the regular one), the suit Sager was wearing looked GQ - well not exactly but close enough that I thought Sager had undergone a clothes intervention, which cured him of his addiction to bright colors. Say it isn't so, I said to myself. And, thank god, it wasn't. The next game he was back wearing a pink sport suit over a pin-stripped baby blue shirt and a lipstick red necktie with a green flamingo emblazoned on it.
Enough has been said about Ernie Johnson and his band of merry men. For those of you who criticize the Abbot and Costello routine Kenny Smith and Charles Barkley have been chanelling, imagine what it would be like if instead of the dynamic duo, Johnson had to play host to Bill Walton and Chris Webber, Walton with his condescending prattle and Webber with his used-car-salesman-smile. Let me ask you, would you buy a car from Webber?
Speaking of criticism, lots of it on the Internet blogs directed towards NBA Gametime's Rick Kamla. The word obnoxious keeps coming up. I think he actually knows a lot about basketball and cares about the game, but his delivery leaves a lot to be desired. He reminds me of those teachers who try to act like their students. In Kamla's case the students he's trying to imitate are also afflicted with HD - Hyperactivity Disorder. Grow up, Kamla and stop trying to be one of the dudes!
Hubie Brown is my hero, at seventy-three still going strong and knowledgeable as ever. I bet he could still coach a team and be successful. As for the other color men, Reggie Miller is competent. I enjoy listening to Steve Kerr who reminds me of Doug Collins, in my opinion the best hoops analyst in the business, now the coach of the 76ers and doing a damn good job of that. The guy that has impressed me the most recently is Greg Anthony. Here's a guy who has come a long way in the elocution department since his days as a player in the NBA. He'll age well.
As for Kevin McHale, let's hope the Rockets hire him as a coach, so he could hire Dennis Scott and Steve Smith as assistants, and NBA Gametime could bring in Cheryl Miller to team up with Brent Barry in their stead. If Mike Fratello, the Czar, could only stop with the Brooklyn accent, you could listen to his comments, usually pretty astute, without feeling you were being transported to the Big Apple. Stan Van Gundy is funny, knowledgeable, and literate.
The sideline reporters need to learn more about the game of basketball so they can ask coaches and players meaningful questions. I love the look on Phil Jackson's face as he responds.
Matt Winer doesn't have the sense of humor Ernie Johnson does, but he is a smart and smooth studio host. Marv Albert is Marv Albert, hair piece and all, one of the best voices in broadcasting.
I couldn't find a poem about TV sports analysts, but I wrote this one for three of the best radio play by play men in basketball.
Play-by-Play Men by Tom Meschery
for Chick Hearn, Marv Albert, & Bill King.
You can't out-grow those nights:
Chick faking players high
into the popcorn stands.
The dribble drive, shots
that never scored without
Marv's blessing, "Yessss!"
In The City, Bill King screams
"Holy, holy Toledo!"
while one more jumper aimed
from twenty feet drops
a contemptible fifteen.
Perhaps, tonight,
wherever you are, stalled
in traffic or home in your room
radio close at hand,
the game on tempting you
to try those nights again,
to be your favorite
play by play man.Why not?
You know their words
by heart, their cadences.
Set the dial, the true court's
left to right, drop an octave
and begin, holding one fist,
like a microphone,
close to your mouth.
Enough has been said about Ernie Johnson and his band of merry men. For those of you who criticize the Abbot and Costello routine Kenny Smith and Charles Barkley have been chanelling, imagine what it would be like if instead of the dynamic duo, Johnson had to play host to Bill Walton and Chris Webber, Walton with his condescending prattle and Webber with his used-car-salesman-smile. Let me ask you, would you buy a car from Webber?
Speaking of criticism, lots of it on the Internet blogs directed towards NBA Gametime's Rick Kamla. The word obnoxious keeps coming up. I think he actually knows a lot about basketball and cares about the game, but his delivery leaves a lot to be desired. He reminds me of those teachers who try to act like their students. In Kamla's case the students he's trying to imitate are also afflicted with HD - Hyperactivity Disorder. Grow up, Kamla and stop trying to be one of the dudes!
Hubie Brown is my hero, at seventy-three still going strong and knowledgeable as ever. I bet he could still coach a team and be successful. As for the other color men, Reggie Miller is competent. I enjoy listening to Steve Kerr who reminds me of Doug Collins, in my opinion the best hoops analyst in the business, now the coach of the 76ers and doing a damn good job of that. The guy that has impressed me the most recently is Greg Anthony. Here's a guy who has come a long way in the elocution department since his days as a player in the NBA. He'll age well.
As for Kevin McHale, let's hope the Rockets hire him as a coach, so he could hire Dennis Scott and Steve Smith as assistants, and NBA Gametime could bring in Cheryl Miller to team up with Brent Barry in their stead. If Mike Fratello, the Czar, could only stop with the Brooklyn accent, you could listen to his comments, usually pretty astute, without feeling you were being transported to the Big Apple. Stan Van Gundy is funny, knowledgeable, and literate.
The sideline reporters need to learn more about the game of basketball so they can ask coaches and players meaningful questions. I love the look on Phil Jackson's face as he responds.
Matt Winer doesn't have the sense of humor Ernie Johnson does, but he is a smart and smooth studio host. Marv Albert is Marv Albert, hair piece and all, one of the best voices in broadcasting.
I couldn't find a poem about TV sports analysts, but I wrote this one for three of the best radio play by play men in basketball.
Play-by-Play Men by Tom Meschery
for Chick Hearn, Marv Albert, & Bill King.
You can't out-grow those nights:
Chick faking players high
into the popcorn stands.
The dribble drive, shots
that never scored without
Marv's blessing, "Yessss!"
In The City, Bill King screams
"Holy, holy Toledo!"
while one more jumper aimed
from twenty feet drops
a contemptible fifteen.
Perhaps, tonight,
wherever you are, stalled
in traffic or home in your room
radio close at hand,
the game on tempting you
to try those nights again,
to be your favorite
play by play man.Why not?
You know their words
by heart, their cadences.
Set the dial, the true court's
left to right, drop an octave
and begin, holding one fist,
like a microphone,
close to your mouth.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
On Coaching the Warriors
This blog is in no way a criticism of Keith Smart's coaching job this season. I thought he did well under adverse conditions (one of them being the worst first round draft choices in the history of the world and the underworld since Chris Cohan bought the Warriors). What's that old saying about you can't make a horse race outta horse manure? Smart may indeed become a good coach in the NBA. And I hope he gets his chance.
That said, I humbly point out that there is a great coach available, no OJT required. That coach is Rick Adelman, late of the Houston Rockets - the lateness due to Rocket management brain damage, or that illness owners of teams often succumb to called "lackachampionship."
Indeed Adelman has not won an NBA Championship, but does that mean he is not a great coach? Not by my standards. To my way of thinking a great coach produces consistently competitive playoff teams. The key word being consistent. As for a Championship, Adelman and his worthy Sacramento Kings should be wearing the rings gifted to the Los Angeles Lakers in 2002 by some of the most shameful and disgraceful refereeing in league history.
Adelman's only lackluster years were the two as the coach of the Warriors, but with every other NBA team he has coached, his teams have been successful. Adelman teams play hard on both ends of the court. He is intelligent and creative, and most importantly he is respected by the vast majority of the players he has coached.
Signing Rick Adelman unfortunately means not renewing Keith Smart's contract, which is a shame. Smart deserves a chance to prove himself. But how the heck can the Warriors pass up an opportunity to sign Rick Adelman?
Perhaps the Rockets should hire Smart. And if Irony rules the universe, which I'm convinced it does, Smart will go on to win an NBA championship in Houston.
And what will Rick do as the Warriors' coach? What he has always done, produce tough-minded, competitive NBA playoff teams, ones that the Bay Area fans can be proud of and deserve. Will he produce a championship team? We'll never know unless the Warriors hire him.
Michael Harper was my son's poetry professor at Brown University. I've read and enjoyed many of his great poems, but none were about sports until I found this one. Harper weighs about 300 pounds, so I can't see him shooting jumpers.
Makin' Jump Shots by Michael Harper
He waltzes into the lane
"cross the free-throw line,
fakes a drive, pivots,
floats from the asphalt turf
in an arc of black light,
and sinks two into the chains.
One on one he fakes
down the main, passes
into the free lane
and hits the chains.
A sniff in the fallen air -
he stuffs it through the chains
riding high:
"traveling" someone calls -
and he laughs, stepping
to a silent beat, gliding
as he sinks two into the chains.
That said, I humbly point out that there is a great coach available, no OJT required. That coach is Rick Adelman, late of the Houston Rockets - the lateness due to Rocket management brain damage, or that illness owners of teams often succumb to called "lackachampionship."
Indeed Adelman has not won an NBA Championship, but does that mean he is not a great coach? Not by my standards. To my way of thinking a great coach produces consistently competitive playoff teams. The key word being consistent. As for a Championship, Adelman and his worthy Sacramento Kings should be wearing the rings gifted to the Los Angeles Lakers in 2002 by some of the most shameful and disgraceful refereeing in league history.
Adelman's only lackluster years were the two as the coach of the Warriors, but with every other NBA team he has coached, his teams have been successful. Adelman teams play hard on both ends of the court. He is intelligent and creative, and most importantly he is respected by the vast majority of the players he has coached.
Signing Rick Adelman unfortunately means not renewing Keith Smart's contract, which is a shame. Smart deserves a chance to prove himself. But how the heck can the Warriors pass up an opportunity to sign Rick Adelman?
Perhaps the Rockets should hire Smart. And if Irony rules the universe, which I'm convinced it does, Smart will go on to win an NBA championship in Houston.
And what will Rick do as the Warriors' coach? What he has always done, produce tough-minded, competitive NBA playoff teams, ones that the Bay Area fans can be proud of and deserve. Will he produce a championship team? We'll never know unless the Warriors hire him.
Michael Harper was my son's poetry professor at Brown University. I've read and enjoyed many of his great poems, but none were about sports until I found this one. Harper weighs about 300 pounds, so I can't see him shooting jumpers.
Makin' Jump Shots by Michael Harper
He waltzes into the lane
"cross the free-throw line,
fakes a drive, pivots,
floats from the asphalt turf
in an arc of black light,
and sinks two into the chains.
One on one he fakes
down the main, passes
into the free lane
and hits the chains.
A sniff in the fallen air -
he stuffs it through the chains
riding high:
"traveling" someone calls -
and he laughs, stepping
to a silent beat, gliding
as he sinks two into the chains.
Sporting Green Saturday April 16, 2011
From page 1: NHL finally on the first page of the Sporting Green. Lots of folks excited. Pas moi. I have never been able to see the damnable puck. (Is it possible that if I were a Canadian, I'd have better eyesight?) I think I have the puck in my sights, then, voila, it's gone and players are crashing into each other on the boards. Where the hell is the puck? I think I see something round, black,and shiny in the middle of all the skates. But I lose my concentration because two skaters are beating the stuffings out of each other and, unlike the NFL intellectuals, these damn fools have taken off their helmets. There's bound to be blood. I guess fights are one of the reasons some people enjoy watching Canada's national sport, eh? I'd settle for just being able to see the puck enter the net.
Also from page 1: According to Rusty Simmons, Keith Smart didn't get a vote of confidence from the new owners of the Warriors or from Larry Riley, who didn't get much of a vote of confidence from the owners either when they hired his replacement, assistant GM, Bob Meyers, who claims the Warriors are a "volcano ready to erupt." Wow! It's Krakatoa arena not Oracle. Before there is any eruption, the Warriors must find a tough minded five who is able to make opponents think twice about driving into the paint; make sure Monta and Curry understand how to play defense; find a third guard for the rotation who is a lock-down defender; find a point forward who can create off the bounce, (or hope Darell Wright can learn over summer); develop a defensive philosophy, (one that includes a fourth quarter strategy); clean all the dead wood from the bench and start all over again acquiring bench strength (what the heck is Radmanovich and Bell good for? Radmonovich couldn't guard my old grandmother.) I like Jeremy Lim, (as a fourth guard) but can he shoot at all? Beidrens should be ashamed of himself. If the Warriors stay status quo or even close to status quo, the only eruption will be of the hips. Sorry, that was a little crude.
From page 9:What a hoot. Kobe's Lakers and GLAAD - Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation -announced a partnership. Was that partnership in the works before Kobe opened his insensitive mouth? This is called after the fact epiphany. Reminds me of the Nixon bunch going to jail and discovering religion.
More from page 9: Can't wait for the Denver Nuggets, Oklahoma Thunder game tonight. Nothing against Carmelo, but isn't it wonderful to see the Nuggets prove you can be competitive without a "go-to-guy." Besides, Carmelo couldn't guard my old grandmother either. Perhaps the "they don't guard anyone" Knicks should trade for the Warrior's Vladimir, the defensive specialist. (Oops, waited too long to post this. Can't wait for tonight's second game.)
I attended the last game of the Warriors' season against the Portland Blazers and watched a good three point shooting contests, better than the one at the All-Star game, at least. Not much in the way of basketball. Whoever hired the band that plays at the Warrior games, should be forced to sit next to the sax player for the rest of his or her life; no ear plugs allowed.
This hockey poem is too long to type out in it's entirety. The last section, entitled, The Goalie, is the best in my opinion.
The Hockey Poem by Robert Bly
4 The Goalie
And this man with his peaked mask, with slits, how fantastic he is, like a white insect, who has given up on evolution in his life his family hopes to evolve after death, in the grave. He is ominous a a Dark Ages knight...the Black Prince. His enemies defeated him in the day, but every one of them died in their beds that night...At his father's funeral, he carried his own head under his arm.
He is the old woman in the shoe, whose house is never clean, no matter what she does. Perhaps this goalie is not a man at all, but a woman, all women; in her cage everything disappears in the end; we all long for it. All these movements on the ice will end, the advertisements come down, the stadium wall bared... This goalie with his mask is a woman weeping over the children of men, that are cut down like grass, gulls that stand with cold feet on the ice...And at the end, she is still waiting, brushing away the leaves, waiting for the new children developed by speed, by war....
Also from page 1: According to Rusty Simmons, Keith Smart didn't get a vote of confidence from the new owners of the Warriors or from Larry Riley, who didn't get much of a vote of confidence from the owners either when they hired his replacement, assistant GM, Bob Meyers, who claims the Warriors are a "volcano ready to erupt." Wow! It's Krakatoa arena not Oracle. Before there is any eruption, the Warriors must find a tough minded five who is able to make opponents think twice about driving into the paint; make sure Monta and Curry understand how to play defense; find a third guard for the rotation who is a lock-down defender; find a point forward who can create off the bounce, (or hope Darell Wright can learn over summer); develop a defensive philosophy, (one that includes a fourth quarter strategy); clean all the dead wood from the bench and start all over again acquiring bench strength (what the heck is Radmanovich and Bell good for? Radmonovich couldn't guard my old grandmother.) I like Jeremy Lim, (as a fourth guard) but can he shoot at all? Beidrens should be ashamed of himself. If the Warriors stay status quo or even close to status quo, the only eruption will be of the hips. Sorry, that was a little crude.
From page 9:What a hoot. Kobe's Lakers and GLAAD - Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation -announced a partnership. Was that partnership in the works before Kobe opened his insensitive mouth? This is called after the fact epiphany. Reminds me of the Nixon bunch going to jail and discovering religion.
More from page 9: Can't wait for the Denver Nuggets, Oklahoma Thunder game tonight. Nothing against Carmelo, but isn't it wonderful to see the Nuggets prove you can be competitive without a "go-to-guy." Besides, Carmelo couldn't guard my old grandmother either. Perhaps the "they don't guard anyone" Knicks should trade for the Warrior's Vladimir, the defensive specialist. (Oops, waited too long to post this. Can't wait for tonight's second game.)
I attended the last game of the Warriors' season against the Portland Blazers and watched a good three point shooting contests, better than the one at the All-Star game, at least. Not much in the way of basketball. Whoever hired the band that plays at the Warrior games, should be forced to sit next to the sax player for the rest of his or her life; no ear plugs allowed.
This hockey poem is too long to type out in it's entirety. The last section, entitled, The Goalie, is the best in my opinion.
The Hockey Poem by Robert Bly
4 The Goalie
And this man with his peaked mask, with slits, how fantastic he is, like a white insect, who has given up on evolution in his life his family hopes to evolve after death, in the grave. He is ominous a a Dark Ages knight...the Black Prince. His enemies defeated him in the day, but every one of them died in their beds that night...At his father's funeral, he carried his own head under his arm.
He is the old woman in the shoe, whose house is never clean, no matter what she does. Perhaps this goalie is not a man at all, but a woman, all women; in her cage everything disappears in the end; we all long for it. All these movements on the ice will end, the advertisements come down, the stadium wall bared... This goalie with his mask is a woman weeping over the children of men, that are cut down like grass, gulls that stand with cold feet on the ice...And at the end, she is still waiting, brushing away the leaves, waiting for the new children developed by speed, by war....
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