Don't you just love sports statistics? Take for example: Boston is working on a 13 game win streak for any team that started 0 -2. Geez. Has anybody figured out what the record is for consecutive wins following an 0-3 start, or an 0-4 start? I don't have access to the league office to find out or the patience to sift through online crap, but is it at all possible that the Sacramento Kings hold one of those records. I'm reasonably sure they lost a bunch of games in a row at the start of the season(s). I'm just saying. I don't mean to be snarky, but stats and analytics drive me nuts. It's all about technology. Recently, I heard some smart person created a room in which people with tech issues could pay a fee, go into, and using a bat provided to them, beat the hell out of technology. Sign me up.
Is there a won and done high school somewhere? There must be, funded by the Coach Calapari Foundation. Last night's game agains Kansas Calapari started five freshmen. Gonzaga beat up on Howard last night, but Howard is an intellectual school, and the Zags, well not so much.
Garapolo, or as my wife, the foodie calls him, Gorgonzola, wins the award for most handsome QB in the NFL, but I'm thinking the 49ers need to give CJ Beathard a serious look. QB is alll about the O-Line. When the Hawkeye standout got protection he stayed up and stood out.
I hate Tom Brady's Trump politics, but he is the best quarterback in the NFL and could wind up ranking in the top five, ever. I keep in mind, Picasso was a great painter, but a real jerk.
I see where the Raiders broke ground for their new stadium in Las Vegas. I've finally reconciled the move, and figure, if it had to be, Vegas is the only place the Silver and Black could have gone. Vegas Raiders has a certain ring to it, and Vegas being what it is, there'll be plenty of Oakland folks willing to fly down and keep the legacy alive. How about the team providing day-of-game charter planes? Charge a small fee, serve booze. My wife says to sign her up. She'd go just to see the costumes and the people, forget the booze. But don't forget the blackjack tables.
Here we go again, as Ronald Reagan used to say: Donald Trump admiring the Philippines' Dictator President Rodrigo Duterte, who's got one of the worst human rights records on our planet, and recently implied that it's ok to snuff reporters. Vladimir KGB Putin, now this madman? The only silver lining I see in this ominously dark trump cloud is that once he and all his cronies are behind bars, perhaps the Middle Class in America will finally get it that the Republican Party has never been, is not, and never will be, on their side.
Sherman Alexie, a Native American, is one of his homeland's great writers. I particularly love his short stories and poems. Here's one about basketball.. I hope the Ball family kids read this poem.
Penance by Sherman Alexie
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, November 15, 2017
Sunday, November 12, 2017
Shoplifting in China
I read in this morning's sports page that the three UCLA basketball players arrested for shoplifting will remain behind in Hangzhou while the rest of the team returns to America to start their season.
"That serves them right, the idiots," my wife says. I say, "Isn't shoplifting some kind of rite of passage for boys?" "Yeah, but most do it when they're twelve, not eighteen and in college," my wife says, adding, "they stole Louis Vuitton sunglasses, not Playboy Magazines."
One of the young men is DiAngelo Ball, the brother of Lonzo Ball, the NBA Lakers' first round draft choice heralded to be the next Magic Johnson (never happen) and son of the kookiest sports dad since the father of tennis stars Venus and Serena Williams. What motivates fathers (and mothers) to insert themselves so strongly and negatively into the lives of their children? The easy answer is ego and a desire for fame that they, otherwise, believed they deserved in their own lives. The hard answer runs something like this: mental illness.
In the summer before my son Matthew, who was on his eighth grade basketball team, entered high school, he came to me and said,"Dad, in high school, the band and the basketball team practises at the same time, would you be terribly disappointed?" Matt went on to play music and for a while after college had a Hip Hop band named OPM that toured Europe and for six weeks was Top of the Pops in England. Although he no longer has the band, Matt still writes and publishes songs. I wonder if the Ball kids ever had a chance to make their own choices. And what does that do to their personalities, that their lives were determined for them?
Meschery's Trump Watch: Since Donald Trump's inauguration on January 20, 2017 at 9 AM, it is 295 days, 23 hrs, 49 min,and 33 sec and counting. On today's Internet, there was a quote by the North Korean dictator calling Trump an old man. Trump replied by Twitter (of course)."I wouldn't call him short and fat." For 25 years I was a high school teacher, and I recognize two adolescents bad mouthing each other in the hall as their classmates egg them on. Aren't we lucky to have a president who at 71 acts like a sixteen year old?
As our adolescent president threatens nuclear war, here is one of the greatest anti-war poems I've ever read.
Autumn Begins in Martins Ferry, Ohio by James Wright
In the Shreve High football stadium,
I think of Polacks nursing long beers in Tiltonsville,
And gray faces of Negroes in the blast furnace at Benwood,
And the ruptured night watchman of Wheeling Steel,
Dreaming of heroes.
All the proud fathers are ashamed to go home.
Their women cluck like stared pullets,
Dying for love.
Therefore,
Their sons grow suicidally beautiful
At the beginning of October,
And gallop terribly against each other's bodies.
"That serves them right, the idiots," my wife says. I say, "Isn't shoplifting some kind of rite of passage for boys?" "Yeah, but most do it when they're twelve, not eighteen and in college," my wife says, adding, "they stole Louis Vuitton sunglasses, not Playboy Magazines."
One of the young men is DiAngelo Ball, the brother of Lonzo Ball, the NBA Lakers' first round draft choice heralded to be the next Magic Johnson (never happen) and son of the kookiest sports dad since the father of tennis stars Venus and Serena Williams. What motivates fathers (and mothers) to insert themselves so strongly and negatively into the lives of their children? The easy answer is ego and a desire for fame that they, otherwise, believed they deserved in their own lives. The hard answer runs something like this: mental illness.
In the summer before my son Matthew, who was on his eighth grade basketball team, entered high school, he came to me and said,"Dad, in high school, the band and the basketball team practises at the same time, would you be terribly disappointed?" Matt went on to play music and for a while after college had a Hip Hop band named OPM that toured Europe and for six weeks was Top of the Pops in England. Although he no longer has the band, Matt still writes and publishes songs. I wonder if the Ball kids ever had a chance to make their own choices. And what does that do to their personalities, that their lives were determined for them?
Meschery's Trump Watch: Since Donald Trump's inauguration on January 20, 2017 at 9 AM, it is 295 days, 23 hrs, 49 min,and 33 sec and counting. On today's Internet, there was a quote by the North Korean dictator calling Trump an old man. Trump replied by Twitter (of course)."I wouldn't call him short and fat." For 25 years I was a high school teacher, and I recognize two adolescents bad mouthing each other in the hall as their classmates egg them on. Aren't we lucky to have a president who at 71 acts like a sixteen year old?
As our adolescent president threatens nuclear war, here is one of the greatest anti-war poems I've ever read.
Autumn Begins in Martins Ferry, Ohio by James Wright
In the Shreve High football stadium,
I think of Polacks nursing long beers in Tiltonsville,
And gray faces of Negroes in the blast furnace at Benwood,
And the ruptured night watchman of Wheeling Steel,
Dreaming of heroes.
All the proud fathers are ashamed to go home.
Their women cluck like stared pullets,
Dying for love.
Therefore,
Their sons grow suicidally beautiful
At the beginning of October,
And gallop terribly against each other's bodies.
Friday, November 3, 2017
Jimmy
With the acquisition of Quarterback Jimmy Garoppolo from the New England Patriots, the 49ers are clearly the winner of the Melanie Meschery Handsome Quarterback Award. The 49ers want him to be a star, Melanie wants him to pose for a portrait. I suggested Patris' morning life drawing sessions. That would work too, she replied. Melanie wanted Harrison Barnes of earlier Warrior success to pose as well. Let's hope Garoppolo is at least as good a quarterback as Harrison was a Warrior.
I need to draw attention to one of the better lines of sports writing. Here's a a paragraph from an article written by Thomas Boswell of the Washington Post about the Houston Astros, winners of this year's World Series: "Now, we have the "Houston Strongest" Series featuring two games that stand among the 10 best World Series games ever played, plus a jubilant, exuberant young champion that will bring power, energy, advanced critical thinking and athleticism to the sport for years."
ADVANCED CRITICAL THINKING? Was there any doubt this retired English teacher didn't raise his arms above his head and whoop for joy? Now, if only the President and his clique would subscribe to the same kind of thinking.
My Warriors are off to an uneven start. Last night, at first it looked to be one of those games that was going to fall diplomatically into the "uneven" category. Uneven, as more reasonably defined as total crap. But after the first dismal quarter, the Dubs rallied and defeated the Spurs soundly. How did they do it? The Warriors are deep off the bench. They are stronger at every position then they were last year when they won the championship, thus they can substitute with greater effectiveness than other teams. Eventually a team with seven strong players will succumb to a team with 12 strong players. It's a law of physics. Or Meschery's law, whichever you prefer.
Speaking of law. I wonder how long it will be before the law catches up to our lawless president. His collaboration with Vladimir Putin, an ex KGB hit-man is by any other name against the law. On the front page of our morning Sacramento Bee, there's a photograph of the Rump kissing the proposed new tax plan that will make wealthy people in our country more wealthy and the middle class poorer.
It is the same kissing pose were the tax plan Putin's buttocks.
Here's a baseball poem in honor of the the great World Series we witnessed.
To Satch by Sam Allen
Sometimes I feel like I will never stop
Just go on forever
Till one fine monrnin
I'm gonna reach up and grab me a handfulla stars
Swing out my long lean leg
And zip three hot stikes bunrin down the heavens
And look over at God and say
How about that!
I need to draw attention to one of the better lines of sports writing. Here's a a paragraph from an article written by Thomas Boswell of the Washington Post about the Houston Astros, winners of this year's World Series: "Now, we have the "Houston Strongest" Series featuring two games that stand among the 10 best World Series games ever played, plus a jubilant, exuberant young champion that will bring power, energy, advanced critical thinking and athleticism to the sport for years."
ADVANCED CRITICAL THINKING? Was there any doubt this retired English teacher didn't raise his arms above his head and whoop for joy? Now, if only the President and his clique would subscribe to the same kind of thinking.
My Warriors are off to an uneven start. Last night, at first it looked to be one of those games that was going to fall diplomatically into the "uneven" category. Uneven, as more reasonably defined as total crap. But after the first dismal quarter, the Dubs rallied and defeated the Spurs soundly. How did they do it? The Warriors are deep off the bench. They are stronger at every position then they were last year when they won the championship, thus they can substitute with greater effectiveness than other teams. Eventually a team with seven strong players will succumb to a team with 12 strong players. It's a law of physics. Or Meschery's law, whichever you prefer.
Speaking of law. I wonder how long it will be before the law catches up to our lawless president. His collaboration with Vladimir Putin, an ex KGB hit-man is by any other name against the law. On the front page of our morning Sacramento Bee, there's a photograph of the Rump kissing the proposed new tax plan that will make wealthy people in our country more wealthy and the middle class poorer.
It is the same kissing pose were the tax plan Putin's buttocks.
Here's a baseball poem in honor of the the great World Series we witnessed.
To Satch by Sam Allen
Sometimes I feel like I will never stop
Just go on forever
Till one fine monrnin
I'm gonna reach up and grab me a handfulla stars
Swing out my long lean leg
And zip three hot stikes bunrin down the heavens
And look over at God and say
How about that!
Saturday, October 28, 2017
Al Attles Fashion Statement
Huge applause for Golden State Warriors' Coach Steve Kerr's imitation of Coach Al Attles Championship garb pm the night the team was honoring him A floral shirt collar over the top of the jacket collar was all the rage in the Seventies. Thank God, he didn't wear bells.
As well as the Wizards were playing in the first half of last night's game, shooting at over 50%, I never felt the Warriors were going to lose. If you've been in the game as long as I have, you can tell if a team is rattled, and the Warriors always seemed to me reasonably composed, albeit sometimes frustrated with their own performance.
Talking about composure, Bradly Beale lost his. Then Draymond Green lost his and his jersey, which Beale had ripped in half. Not sure what that was all about? Uniform envy? Given the league's stand against violence on the court, I suppose Draymond had to be ejected, but surely the NBA's eagle-eyed observers in New Jersey had to have seen that Beale started the ruckus with a hammerlock on Draymond's head, not to mention defiling Dray's uniform. My fine suggestion: Beale=$25,000; Green $999,00, Referees: $5,000 each for not seeing where the D & B trash-talk was leading.
Jim Barnett, the Warriors color commentator, quipped that if Al Attles, the great Warrior guard and HOF coach had been attacked by Beale, the Wizard guard would have been SWIFTLY dispatched by a few of Al's well known and lightening quick punches. Let it be known, Al Attles was pound for pound the second toughest player in the league back in the day. The first was Wilt Chamberlain, both terammates of mine. I never had to worry if I got in a fight, which I often did, that my back was not covered. Truth be told, their presence probably provided me with fool's courage.
In today's Life portion of my blog, how about this to ponder: Why is it that all these vile predators of females are creepy dudes? Like Harvey Weinstein, Bill O'Reilly, our creepy looking president, and this California Assembly creature, Bocanegra accused of groping in this morning's newspaper? I use the word creepy rather than ugly, which they are, but there have been saints who were ugly, and I don't want to give ugly a bad name. Back to the creepy dudes. Without their power or money, they couldn't find a date in a Sultan's harem.
With my upcoming birthday, I've been perusing old jock poems and found this. I may have posted this one on a previous birthday blog, but most poetry is better re-and-reread.
Ulysses by Claude Clayton Smith
There is yet some elastic
in this tired old jock,
enough to toss the ball
around and teach my son
Telemachus the subtle art
of looking left - while
thinking right. To catch
the opposition napping,
to cross them up and leave
them guessing. Elastic
yet to flip the pages of
faded clippings and narrate
tales than live as legends:
the hours of practice,
the hard-fought game,
the occasional moments
of glory.
As well as the Wizards were playing in the first half of last night's game, shooting at over 50%, I never felt the Warriors were going to lose. If you've been in the game as long as I have, you can tell if a team is rattled, and the Warriors always seemed to me reasonably composed, albeit sometimes frustrated with their own performance.
Talking about composure, Bradly Beale lost his. Then Draymond Green lost his and his jersey, which Beale had ripped in half. Not sure what that was all about? Uniform envy? Given the league's stand against violence on the court, I suppose Draymond had to be ejected, but surely the NBA's eagle-eyed observers in New Jersey had to have seen that Beale started the ruckus with a hammerlock on Draymond's head, not to mention defiling Dray's uniform. My fine suggestion: Beale=$25,000; Green $999,00, Referees: $5,000 each for not seeing where the D & B trash-talk was leading.
Jim Barnett, the Warriors color commentator, quipped that if Al Attles, the great Warrior guard and HOF coach had been attacked by Beale, the Wizard guard would have been SWIFTLY dispatched by a few of Al's well known and lightening quick punches. Let it be known, Al Attles was pound for pound the second toughest player in the league back in the day. The first was Wilt Chamberlain, both terammates of mine. I never had to worry if I got in a fight, which I often did, that my back was not covered. Truth be told, their presence probably provided me with fool's courage.
In today's Life portion of my blog, how about this to ponder: Why is it that all these vile predators of females are creepy dudes? Like Harvey Weinstein, Bill O'Reilly, our creepy looking president, and this California Assembly creature, Bocanegra accused of groping in this morning's newspaper? I use the word creepy rather than ugly, which they are, but there have been saints who were ugly, and I don't want to give ugly a bad name. Back to the creepy dudes. Without their power or money, they couldn't find a date in a Sultan's harem.
With my upcoming birthday, I've been perusing old jock poems and found this. I may have posted this one on a previous birthday blog, but most poetry is better re-and-reread.
Ulysses by Claude Clayton Smith
There is yet some elastic
in this tired old jock,
enough to toss the ball
around and teach my son
Telemachus the subtle art
of looking left - while
thinking right. To catch
the opposition napping,
to cross them up and leave
them guessing. Elastic
yet to flip the pages of
faded clippings and narrate
tales than live as legends:
the hours of practice,
the hard-fought game,
the occasional moments
of glory.
Sunday, October 15, 2017
Warriors' Third Championship and etc
That Steve Kerr continues to emphasize JOY proves to me once again how completely he understands the condition of today's NBA. The 84 game season is too long and too grueling to be won simply by loading up great players. Or by having a stalwart defense; or by possessing a fearsome offense; or by X's and O's, or creative match-ups, or game day strategies, or successful practices, or luck, although all these obviously figure into a winning equation. But to win it all, the ring and the glory, in today's game, a team must possess an intangible. For Coach Kerr, this is JOY. What other coaches decide is the intangible that best fits their team, they must make that determination for themselves. But there can not fail to be one. Because, finally, basketball is the quintessential "touchy, feely" team sport. It's a form of modern dance; it's Isadora Duncan at her instinctive best. So, JOY make so much sense to me. It's what ever kid who loves basketball takes with him to the playground and returns home with him from the playground, the ball tucked under his arm, joy in his heart.
As the first game of the 2017/18 NBA season approaches, I'm with Coach Kerr all the way with his JOY for the game, for his players, and the JOY his players will give back to him with another RING.
At the top of page 7 of the Sacramento Bee sports section: a color photograph of Hertha Berlin soccer players taking a knee before their German Bundesliga (that's the top pro league in Germany) match in solidarity with their NFL brothers in sports. "We're no longer living in the 18th century but in the 21st century," Herta defender Sebastian Langkamp told Sky TV at half-time. "There are some people, (think Trump and Pence) however, who are not that far ideologically yet. if we [his team] can give some lessons there with that then that's good."
In the photograph there are seven players kneeling. Except for one black player, the rest are white. Are you paying attention WHITE NFL players? Are you at all embarrassed to be schooled by German soccer players?
In honor of baseball playoffs, though I rarely watch.
Pastime by Emilio De Grazia
A girl nine years of wonder
Still on her face,
Stands directly on the bag at 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.
As the first game of the 2017/18 NBA season approaches, I'm with Coach Kerr all the way with his JOY for the game, for his players, and the JOY his players will give back to him with another RING.
At the top of page 7 of the Sacramento Bee sports section: a color photograph of Hertha Berlin soccer players taking a knee before their German Bundesliga (that's the top pro league in Germany) match in solidarity with their NFL brothers in sports. "We're no longer living in the 18th century but in the 21st century," Herta defender Sebastian Langkamp told Sky TV at half-time. "There are some people, (think Trump and Pence) however, who are not that far ideologically yet. if we [his team] can give some lessons there with that then that's good."
In the photograph there are seven players kneeling. Except for one black player, the rest are white. Are you paying attention WHITE NFL players? Are you at all embarrassed to be schooled by German soccer players?
In honor of baseball playoffs, though I rarely watch.
Pastime by Emilio De Grazia
A girl nine years of wonder
Still on her face,
Stands directly on the bag at 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.
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