Tommy Smith & John Carlos & etc about the NBA

 John Carlos, Tommy Smith, Dr Kenneth Noel & Dr. Harry Edwards were honored by inducting the four men  into the California Hawaii Legacy Hall of Fame at a ceremony in Sacramento, CA, the city in which I now live. Over the years since Smith and Carlos  made history in the 1968 Olympics by raising their black gloved fists on the winners podium as the "Star Spangled Banner "was being played, the two sprinters have gone from national pariahs to heroes of the Civil Rights movement. This is only one of many such awards Smith and Carlos have received, since our country has long ago come to acknowledge the bravery of what they did in 1968. I'm writing this blog to not only remind people of Carlos and Smith, but to remind my readers that their was a third brave soul on the podium that afternoon during the medal ceremony. Below is a poem I wrote in this person's honor;

DOCUMENTARY

    for Peter Norman (42 -2006)

I'm reading about fires raging in Australia
dark, particle filled smoke hovering over xitiesw and towns
images of kangaroos leaping before the rushing flames,
eucalyptus trees burning like torches.

North of th3e fire, my friend's son is working to save lives

He writes his parents he is in no danger but Australia is in flames.

Somewhere I read that the continent of Australia 

contains eleven out of the twelve most poisonous spieces of reptiles on earth.

Their coastal waters teeming with sharks.

In the 1968 Summer Olympics in Mexico City,

Peter Norman, an Australian, having won the silver medal

stood on the podium with with Americans Tommy Smith and John Carlos

when they raised their black gloved fists int the air

Norman, a white man, wore a badge of solidarity.

The Australian Olympic Committee

never forgave him for that one act of bravery.

The call them fire storms. The Ausstrains are praying for rain.

The Australian Olympic Committee never allowed Norman to run for his country again. 

ETC ABOUT THE NBA

I've been thinking about the Golden State Warriors draft and trade. I'm not sure why so many of the talking heads still believe Draymond Green is entertaining  leaving the Warriors, if he ever did. 

Draymond is going out with the horses he came in with. Jordan Poole is gone replaced by Chris Paul.

The Warriors drafted the hot 3 point shooter from Santa Clara University, Brandin Podzienski. The young talented but raw Baldwin II has joined Poole in Washington. In his place the Warriors drafted the 6'9" power forward 22 year old Trace Jackson Davis, the son of Indiana Pacer's power forward Dale Davis. Trace comes in with a grown man's body and can already board and bang. He's got the genes. Podzienski by all accounts sizzle from the 3. And then, we have 18 year NBA All Star Chris Paul coming off the bench to lead a second unit in which these two draft choices will certainly be a part. 

If all of the Warriors remain healthy, are the Golden State Warriors a stronger team than last years. 

And if you think they are, can they win another championship. I leave you with that question unanswered. Be thoughtful. Do not stress over the lost of a talent like Poole. Remember Monte Ellis  who Warrior fans adored was traded and what was the result of that trade?  

Dream Whisperer

 Back in the day in a Warriors vs Lakers' game in Los Angeles, we were ahead of the Lakers by 2 points going into the final seconds of the 4th quarter. Lakers' ball. The ball was in the hands of LA's point guard Dick Barnett. (actually no one called guards points or shooters in those days, just guards) Dick would become legendary years later as a New York Knick and member of the Knicks' two NBA Championship teams. Back to the story. So, there was Dick dribbling the ball up the court, hippity-hop, which was sort of his style of dribbling. He could really "handle" the ball. Modern day translation: Dick Barnett possessed a great handle. With only seconds left on the clock, Dick was moving at a fast pace. I was watching this action unfolding from my position defending Rudy LaRusso standing on LA's baseline. I could see Dick was not going to pass the ball. Dick was being guarded by Al Attles, no slouch on D. Barnett made it as far as midcourt on the corner nearest the announcers' table and within hearing distance of their great play by play broadcaster, Chick Hearn. I thought Al had trapped in that corner. Seconds left, Barnett rose up for a jumper. Dick's jumper was mechanically perfect from the waist up and an awkward hilariously funny kick back looking thing from the waist down. All of us, players, coaches, fans, and ushers saw what happened next. The ball rose back-spinning into the air. It reached it's apex and descended. It is at this point, Dick Barnett turned to Chick Hearn and said. "Baby, we ah in ovahtime." The ball hit nothing but net. We were tied and had to play a 5 minute overtime period. This is one of Chick's favorite stories part of which is also part of my story that I tell in my forthcoming Memoir: They Called Me The Mad Manchurian. I have long forgotten if we won the game in overtime or not. It doesn't matter who won. In my mind Dick Barnett won the game with that shot. There's probably a stat sheet somewhere that would answer the question who won, but who really cares. 

Why am I relating this tale? I just finished watching The Dream Whisperer, the story of Dr. Dick Barnett's successful 9 year quest to get his Tennessee A&I University teams that won 3 consecutive national championships inducted as a team into the Basketball Hall of Fame. It's one hell of a story of determination. And on this Juneteeth day honoring the end of slavery in the United States profoundly appropriate. 

One closing remark. Dick and I are about the same age. I'm 85. I watched Doctor Barnett on the TV screen walking, sort of hunched over with a little hop to his hip in his step.  And at first thought Dickie, your getting old, but then realized that's the way Dickie Barnett always walked. He was growing old while he was growing young. Dick Barnett, great shooter, funny man, intelligent and honorable,. Thanks for the memory and memories. 

I never wrote a poem about Dick. I probably should have, but I did write one for his friend and teammate Earl "The Pearl" Monroe. Here it is.

EARL THE PEARL        By Tom Meschery

     For Earl Monroe

In the rec leagues
they called me Black Jesus.
When I walked onto the court
the crowd parted like the Red Sea.
In college, someone found a rhyme
and I became a pearl.
I guess I’ve been a mixed
metaphor ever since.
Today, when I back a player
down toward the paint
and spin into my shot,
I know before the ball leaves
my fingers it’s going in.
At that moment I can heal
lepers, raise the dead. 

Good for the Nugget & etc

 I've always had a warm spot in my heart for the city of Denver. It was there, playing in the AAU basketball tournaments in 1957 as a high school player and during my four years of college, that I demonstrated  the skills as a forward that led to my being selected in the first round of the 1961 NBA lottery by the Philadelphia Warriors. In high school I'd played center. No pro team had any use for a 6'6" center. In Denver, I played for the San Francisco Olympic Club that had a 6'10 center, so I played the forward position. It was, as they say these days, huge in my life. So I had no problem, once the Golden State Warriors were eliminated, deciding who I was going to cheer for to win the the 2003 NBA Championship. I was not disappointed. The Nuggets reign as the NBA's champs for 2003. They deserved it.

Better writers than me have already filled the internet with detailed accounts about how the Denver Nuggets did it, and who the best players were, their attributes, and their best moments. So, I'm not going to rehash old news. Let's leave it that I agree with most of the writers that this Denver team if they keep their core in tact, should compete for the Finals for years to come. All the accolades the players received by the press, I agree, were well deserved. I will not go so far as to agree that Jokic is the greatest player in the NBA today. That he is the greatest center in the NBA today, of course I agree. Greatest player is too broad, just as G.O.A.T is too broad that I can't think in those terms. Steph Curry is the greatest shooter of all time. Michael Jordan was the greatest 1 thru 3 of all time, John Stockton was the greatest point guard of all time. Am I getting my point across? One can say that the Joker is the best passing center of all time, but then I remember one and a half years that Bill Walton played for the Portland Trailblazers and I say to myself, well what if Bill had not injured himself and had a long NBA career? I can say with confidence that Jokic is the best 3 pt shooting center to every play in the NBA so far. 

Since I brought up Bill Walton, I just finished watching ESPN'S 30/30 about Walton called The Luckiest Man in the World. It was an enormously moving film about one of the most fascinating and complicated basketball players that every put on an NBA uniform. Unquestionably Bill was one of the greatest high school and college basketball player that ever played. For the 1976/77 and half of the 1977/78 seasons Bill was the best all-around center in the NBA. I was Lenny Wilkens' assistant coach for Bill's first two years as a Blazer. In both those seasons Bill was injured, so it was all potential until he started paying better attention to his body and getting NBA healthy, which is a whole lot more difficult than just being generally healthy. Lenny and I were fired. Jack Ramsey took over the head coaching job and Bill lead the Blazers to an NBA Championship. If you are a basketball fan, this 30/30 about Walton is a must see. Let me repeat myself about how great a basketball center Bill Walton was, just so it's clear I'm on record. For one and half seasons, Bill Walton was the BEST ALL AROUND center to ever play the NBA. He checked off every skill set that a center should possess to be great. If you watch The Luckiest Man in the World, I'm reasonably sure you'll come away convinced that I'm right. 

Back to the Nuggets for a last word. Keep your team together. Sign Brown. Don't lose the dude, he's a winner. 

THE SHOT     by Tom Meschery

Remember the first time you knew for sure you were the one.
Let’s say the one is all of us in our own way, in our own time.
It could have been a playground or a gym, probably a gym.
You shot the ball and watched its certain flight. How certain?
You could have turned your back on it before it fell and shouted,
Like a player I knew, once in a game did with seconds left
And down by two let fly and cried out, “Baby we’re in overtime.”
He was a star in the NBA before all of you stars were born.
It wasn’t arrogance. The words were like an announcement
Shooters know, don’t they, when the ball will drop, or not
It’s something in the finger and the eye called touch and sight.
Tell me that I’m not right, that I’m a liar. Tell me the game
Doesn’t turn magical in that moment of arch and backspin
And I’ll stop writing. I know you can’t, Curry, wearing
The magician’s hat in The Garden the night of fifty points.
I watched him through my crystal ball sail one jumper
After another over the heads of the disbelieving fans. 

Why is No One Talking About About Saudi Murderers Anymore?

Monnohan commisioner of the PGA, when the LIV was formed, reminded the Golf World of the murderous history of the Saudi who financially supported the LIV. After the merger Mr. Monohan says he understands that some players will call him a hypocrite. No calling, you ARE a HYPOCRITE. Someone, I dare say, should investigate Commisioner Monohan's bank account. It seems that GREED has won. This is the Pandora's Box Donald Trump opened with his presidency that has consumed our nation that heretofore was able to keep that box if not entiely closed, relatively closed, so that greed and pure self interest did not consume society. The American people must show their patriotism and support of the families of the victims of 9/11 by not watching this new incarnation of professional golf. And product advitisors such a Rolex and Mercedes Benz should withdraw their support of this new league. 

A few quick observations about the NBA:

What schmuck on The Athletic, yesterday wrote the headline: Joker or Choker? Are you stupid or just thrilled by one liners?

As great as the Murry and Jokic pick and roll duo is, I'd like to remind writers that Stockton and Malone maintained their greatness over a dozen years I'd also like to remind such writers quick to laud the duo as the reason the Nuggets defeated the Heat last night that the Nuggets would not have won, no matter how great the dynamic duo was, without Bruan and Brown. This pair provided the off the bench scoring, defense and most importantly the GRIT that was lacking in the Nugget lost in the second game in Denver. 

I read that the Suns are thinking of waving or renegotiating the contract of Chris Paul. Smart, given Paul's history lately of injuries, the hardest ones to deal with coming at the crucial time at the end of the seasons when his leadership is most needed. Waiving him is stupid, so renegotiate. The Suns will not find a better point guard in free agency if they are trying to max out the KD/Booker combo before KD starts loosing skills. But, as our present President Joe Biden likes to say, Here's the Deal. Have the Suns done what they can to help Paul reduce his chances of injuries? As a player in the NBA I played through my entire ten year career with groin pulls. There were things we did so that I could play though the pain, But assuming Pual's injury is more serious than mine were, has the Sun's medical staff done everything it can to minimize Paul's tendency to muscle injuries? I'm bettting Paul has less than 8% body fat, which make him vulnerable to such injuries. There is science, but there is also thinking outside the box. Perhaps a little creativity might uncover something that would help Chris Paul. For example, what kind of fitness regimen do ballet dancers employ?  Just thinking. 

Not exactly a poem, but an appropriate metaphor for the best Pick and Roll duo of the NBA

Stockton licks the stamp

 places it on the envelope

and he Mailman delivers.. 

    

PGA HYPOCRISY & NBA FINALS

Yesterday on television, I watched the primo director of the PGA talking about the newly formed LIV sometime after it started and had convinced some ot the PGA's elite players to jump ship. For Big Bucks, needless to say as every sports fan knows. (Phil Mickelson received $200 million, Dustin Johnson, $97 million and Bruce Koepka $69 million dollars.) He didn't waste time to remind the golfing world that this league - the LIV - was solely sponsored by the Saudi government, a government that supported the twin towers bombers and routinely murders its own people. He didn't say it but the message was clear, the money these players were receiving was stained by blood. The league itself was bloody. I remember back then how appreciative the World Trade Center survivors and victims' families were for the PGA's stance.

Yesterday, those same survivors and victims' families were betrayed. The PGA announced that it would be merging with the LIV. which is to say they will be partners with terrorists and killers. Phil Mickelson stated joyously that it was an amazing day. Yes, Phil, amazing it is that GREED ounce again triumphs over honor, but it is by no means joyful. It is sad and dishonest and unpatriotic. And you have the audacity to call it joyous. Just as the past president our country Donald Trump has the audacity to allow Saudi sponsored golf to be played on his golf courses. Just as  the PGA now has the audacity to provide the Saudi government with a world public relations coup. Shame on the PGA. 

Let's be clear, I have no problem with competing leagues. That's fair business practice and we've seen it happen often in the United States. What I object to strenuously is with a league owned by the Saudi government. As most Americans did, on 9/11/2001, I watched Saudi nurtured pilots steer their deadly planes into the Twin Towers in the heart of New York City. Unless the Saudi government divests its entire ownership interests in the LIV, I will never watch PGA golf again. I would hope all Americans to similarly pledge. 

THE NBA FINAL. Now to something truly joyous: basketball. The Heat and the Nuggest are tied. This is a surprise to me. I would have thought the Nuggets would have dominated on the Mile High home court. As it turned out the Heat had other plans. I do recall for responding to some Athletic Writers that the only chance the Heat have lies not with their two stars, Butler and Adebayo but with Vincent, Straus and Martin.  I like being right. I do, however, add that Adebayo played the last two games like he was better than Anthony Davis, not a less talented version of AD. He played the entire 50 by 90 feet of the court and Jokic, as great as he is, and his help D, had trouble finding him. I still believe the Nuggets will win, but it is possible it will take 7 games. Here, however, in closing, is a question to ponder. Are these two games of Adebayo an aberration or a new norm? The Heat's centers inconsistent offensive highs and lows have alwasys mystified me. What Heat fans can hope for is that this is the year, in these Finals, that Bam finally internalizes how talented he truly is.

In honor of the NBA Finals, I offer this poem I wrote about my beloved Dubs.

Ode to the Golden State Warriors 2015   by Tom Meschery
 
One small change and the line begins: Good luck,

timing and the stars. This morning, I'm still seeing
Curry’s three float through the sky of the arena
reminding me of a lesson in geometry:
An arc is a segment of the circumference
of the circle – from foot (the flat plane of release)
that travels in silent degrees over the moon.
That it drops into the hoop is a matter
both of mathematics and imagination.
 
I am watching this arc with my arm in a sling
having had my shoulder replaced with titanium,
a science of a lesser degree than the one
Curry, and his teammate, Thompson,
use to turn mathamatics into a sport.
 
As far as my titanium shoulder will allow,
I raise my arm to salute the Splash Brothers
and their teammates, three out of five,
Bogut, Barnes, and Green
and all the other players off the bench,
no small part of the equation called teammates.
And raise it up again through pain
to honor the others: players and coaches,
Gentry, Adams, and Kerr for his coaching
that were it not intense, looks much like joy.
 
Something so old inside me called desire
yearns to play again, to shake off years,
travel through the television screen
and be six-six again, called undersized
like Draymond Green snatching rebounds,
playing beyond our skills because we will it,
because we know that timing gives us wings.
 
And wherever they are, the old Warriors,
Nate and Rick, Al and Jeff, I wonder, if like me,
they’re watching these new Warriors, Dubs,
seeing how luck, timing, and the stars triangulate.
 
           
          

timing, and the stars. This morning I’m still seeing