Somwthing to Think About Warrior Fans

Courtesy of my good friend and Oxford scholar, Dell Martin verbatim from an email this mornings. Defiantly something for you Warrior fans out there to consider and ponder.

"Last season everyone was on about the W's possibly winning 70, but this year  no one seems hardly to notice that they might be the third team ever to get there (the second team, if you count last year). I actually did the math."

The [Warriors] are presently at .860 for the first 50 games. . . 43/7. If they finish the season at .860, they would win 70.5 games. If you look at the last 30 games, they are 26/4. . . that is .86666. If they finish at that pace,they will be at 71 wins for the season. I just don't get it why everyone is sort of yawning about it. . . and then last night they beat the Clippers without Livingston, ZaZa and Green. Well, they could take a bad stumble any time, but that was true last season too."

I am submitting Dell's name to the league to be considered for an Analytics Award. The math looks pretty good to me, but I flunked multiplication tables.

Have to congratulate Coach Tara Vanderveer on her 1,000th victory. Forget gender, she IS Stanford University Basketball.

Note: In last night's last second loss to the Suns, How the hell did the best shooter, arguably the best player on the Suns, Devin Booker, get the ball isolated one on one with 8 ticks left????? You gotta be kidding me.

Finally, lot's of love to Anderson Varejao, released by the Warriors, but much appreciated by the team. The Brazilian power forward had a solid and admirable 14 year career in the NBA, 12 with the Cleveland Cavs who should retire his number. Per 36 mpg with the Cavs he double/doubled. A true pro. God Speed. 

It's mid-winter and the sport of Curling is coming to us live, huge from Duluth, Minnesota. Watched it last night, and felt compelled to post my Curling poem, although I posted a couple of years ago in winter. What the heck, in any poem I feature my wife, I like.

Curling   by Tom Meschery

Let's hear it for Curling, a sport in which
two brooms, like blockers in the NFL
(I'm thinking Packers, Greenbay in the snow)
lead the running back, a guy named Stone
(not exceptionally fast, but relentless)
down the icy field; masked fans in parkas,
sipping from flasks. They're watching curling
on local ice, while I'm enjoying building
this extended metaphor, thinking that Milton,
had he a sense of humor, which there's no
evidence he possessed, might have appreciated.

My wife also enjoys curling. "What's not to like
about a sport played with brooms?" she asks.
"The ice needs cleaning, and the players
are only doing what any good wife would do."
She's talking to me wile dusting,
which comes before vacuuming, a rule
in her sport that must never be broken. 

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 

This and That in Today's Sports' Page

"Golden State picked it up late, while hardly at their best." This is a quote, which seems to best define my Warriors these days. Of course, last night they missed the defense and scoring of Klay Thompson, but even with Klay I'm not sure it would have mattered. Some team synergy is amiss that can not be explained simply by having to adjust to Kevin Durant or the Absence of Andrew Bogut defending the paint. It would be an oversimplification to do so. In mind Durant is ever bit as capable of defending as Harrison Barnes, and Za Za in combo with McGee ought to be able to do a reasonable job making it tough for players to penetrate.

My instincts, and that's all I really have to go on, is that the team defensive intensity is not there. It is a given in a team sport that every single player on field or court must be zoned in on D for it to be effective. Such five man commitment to D is not happening with the Dubs. Yes, they appear to be trying, but without the "GRIT" that's needed to confuse their opponents so they make turnover or take difficult, rushed shots. Red Auerbach said it best back in the glory days of the Boston Celtics, paraphrased: Our opponents will only get well defended difficult shots at the basket. Our opponents will get no offensive rebounds. We will get more easy shots at the basket than our opponents. And we will get more shots at the basket than our opponents."

This is the mind set that the Warriors have embraced for the past two seasons. It is a mind set that they have yet to embrace as of today.

I am tickled by thought in today's Sac Bee that DeMarcus Cousins needs a rest. I don't remember Shaq getting many rests, and he certainly got hammered on more than our big talented juvenile delinquent. Besides, it's not even mid-season. Give me a break.

Suspicious absences - as in the case of Derrick Rose - lead to suspicions, and suspicions lead to rumors, and rumors lead to. . . what? It's been my experience never to anything good. Rose does not look or play like a happy man, or even a contented man.

Colin Kaepernick took a beating in today's sports section. He's been taking a beating ever since Trent Balke began dismantling the team,which started with the firing of Jim Harbough. If there is another quarterback out there that available better than Cap, I like to know who he is. Some of this crap directed at Cap, I'm afraid, is racist. He would not be taking as much heat if he hadn't made his unpopular decision to kneel during the singing of the National Anthem. Right now, in my humble opinion, the team should be working on find an offensive line that can 1) protect a quarterback, no matter if it is Cap or some mysterious new comer and 2) open up holes for the teams running backs.
And, lets also not forget finding some defensive backs and a few wide receivers. Focusing on a QB at this point is pointless.

Finally, is there any chance in the foreseeable future that the University of Conneticuts' women's basketball team will ever lose a game? They just won their 90th consecutive victory by beating the # 20 ranked South Florida team 102 to 37. That's  65 point margin.  And why isn't this team getting more national recognition? They are certainly more interesting and exciting than some of the NBA teams I've watched this season.

50's Male     by Tom Meschery
    
       "Beauty is truth, truth beauty. . ." 
                                  - John Keats.
The Lady Irish are playing the Georgia Lady 
Bulldogs in the Women's NCAA Final Four,
and I'm not the man I think I am, concerned
about her beauty not how talented she is
controlling the game, dribbling the ball,
her sweet jumper, how she drive the paint.
Instead I'm imagining a point guard
in an evening gown or wearing a bikini
reclining on a tropical beach. It's 2013.
What's wrong with me, I ask my wife
who is no less a beauty. She replies
this propensity you have for beauty does not
condemn you as a sexist. Babies are young
as several weeks will stare at photographs
of beautiful people far longer than they
will attend those of us less gifted by the Gods.
The Greeks were right about beauty,
and they used the same word for truth.
This should ease my conscience but doesn't.
It's not exactly beauty I had in mind. 

Dave Joeger

It's been a long time since Rick Adelman coached the Sacramento Kings. Since his firing Kings players and fans have watched coaches enter and depart the area as if there was a revolving door
at ARCO/Sleep-Train Arena. Finally (with a great sigh of relief) the Sacramento Kings have found a worthy replacement for Coach Adelman - Dave Joeger.

There is a German liqeur called Jagermeister. Although the spelling is not right, I think a comparison can be made. In German Jagermeister means Hunter Master. Appropriate? Okay, a bit of a stretch, but I like the idea of Dave Joeger as both a hunter (for the best players) and a master (of the team and the game).

It is not a winning season yet, not by a long shot, especially with a loose cannon like the talented DeMarcus Cousins at the center of the team. Still, one can sense Joeger's intelligence, will power,  inventiveness, and flexibility. Add to that - from what I can tell watching him on the court - a sense of humor. These are traits that make for an excellent NBA coach.

So, Sacramento - like "Here's Johnny," heeeere's Coach Joeger. I'm taking bets that he's going to be around for a long time and usher in a decade of winning Kings' seasons.

The problem with waiting to post a blog until the next day is that the Kings lost to Miami in the interim. Since the Heat was playing without three of its best players and still won is not a testament to Coach Joeger's preparation or the teams improved chances for the playoffs. Even so, my belief in Dave Joeger remains firm. He is a solid coach with a solid future in the NBA.

I can't let this morning's blog go by without quoting Ashton Eaton, the world record holder in the decathlon, announcing his retirement. He said, "I gave the most physically robust years of my life to the discovery and pursuit of my limits in this domain (his sport)." What a wonderful and insightful statement. My guess is that most spots fans would not think of the athletes' life in this way, as a game by game, moment by moment test of their limitations. Nor do I believe many great athletes look at their life in this way. Does Usain Bolt believe he has any limitations? Or would Michael Jordan? Or Muhammad Ali, or fill in the blank______________________?

I saw this poem in a magazine sometime after the war in Iraq, writer unknown. My guest is a convalescing vet of that war or a loved one of a wounded vet. Certainly this message of this poem exemplifies Eaton's idea of testing one's limits. 

After Iraq     Anonymous

He rose every morning to see if he could.
Dress himself with no one's help.
To test his limits when he stood,
without crutches by himself.

On Refereeing & etc

I was happy to read that the NBA stated that LeBron should have been assessed a T for hanging on the rim far longer than was needed to escape injury. It was clearly a taunt. As for the last non-call, that was crucial. Jefferson's foot struck KD's ankle, which caused him to fall. If KD had been able to get a shot off, the result of the game could have been different since he's been know to make long last second game-winning-shots before. Tyron Lue has a point; games should not be decided on the free throw line. However, in some cases, it has to be. Nature of the game, nature of competitive behavior. Jefferson would have been remiss had he not played as tough as he did against Durant, but tough is a risk you take as a defender.

The Warriors didn't lose the game because of the two non-calls. They blew a lead they should have been able to maintain. End of story, but not the end of the book. The final chapter in the plot between the Cavs and Dubs will be read come NBA Finals. That is unless the Toronto Raptors don't defeat the Cavs in the Eastern Conference playoffs.

Generally, however, the NBA refs get it right. There's not a game harder to call than the lightening quick pro game of basketball. Compared to the NBA, refereeing in the NFL should be a great deal easier. But it doesn't seem to be.

Some of the calls, NFL refs have made and not made this season are downright mystifying. Since I don't know a lot about the nuances of football, I'll let someone better in the know to suggest where the NFL refs need to improve. As an amateur observer, I'll only speak to two less complicated issues.

One: NFL referees should be made full time paid employees of the NFL with benefits that includes a clause which allows NFL administrators to review each refs yearly performance. Poor performances could lead to dismissal. 

Two: Considering the more significant ref problems, what is the deal over players celebrating? Why is this stoking so much fire. As far as I can tell, most of it is showmanship and, for the most part, fun, performed usually by running backs and receivers. Occasionally, a defensive back or linebacker, after making a significant tackle or QB hit, will engage in a bit of chest beating. So what????

The NFL is not college where such antics would be and should be considered unsportsmen-like. It's the NFL, dude, and part of the world of entertainment. The solution is so easy, it's hardly worth mentioning. But I will anyway. A quick cha-cha, that's cool; you dance the waltz around the goal posts, you get a T, and a fine. And the fine has to be significant. Hit players in their pocketbooks, and you'll see all the over-the-top can-can end pronto.

In small doses, however, let the celebrations continue. Most of them are amusing. And heartfelt as in the case of Ezekiel Elliot who, after scoring, leaped into the Salvation Army tub and peeked out over the top to a cheering stadium. I'll bet donations to the Salvation Army increased. 

Another possibility is to assess points for the most inventive celebrations and at the end of the season hold an Academy Awards Ceremony for the top-ten best performances.      Only kidding.

I probably should have found a football poem, but couldn't resist this bowling poem. I'm pretty sure I've never offered a poem about bowling before, so the sport is overdue.

Hook   by Floyd Skloot

My father limps on the leg that healed short.
His twice-broken right wrist, too weak to hold
a bowling ball palm up, is why he spins
a hook he cannot control. The ball rolls
slowly, as if limping while it wanders
from one gutter to the other and back.

We stand dead last in the Father and Son
League, not helped by my rocketing straight shots
that knock down nothing as often as they 
knock down everything. he watches, giving
no advice. At thirteen, knowing there is 
nothing for me to say either. I wait

for the ball's return so I can heft it
again and aim down the gleaming alley.