Obi Wannabe Kobe

Shagging Fungos (Two)

2009-08-01T09:54:00.000-07:00

And this whole line of thought actually got started in a very different place, when some friends of mine were lamenting the disclosure that David Ortiz had tested positive for steroid use back in 2003 (or whenever those supposedly "confidential" tests were administered), and I complained instead about the ubiquitous performance-enhancing substance messages in our society, including this recent Dunkin' Donuts ad, where the mere addition of a free Turbo-Shot is enough to allow the scrawny second baseman to slay the giant with a well-placed fungo.

But what I discovered instead was that a good many of these same people, passionate baseball (well, let's say Red Sox) fans all, had only a vague idea about what a "fungo" really is. The dictionary definition is fungo: n. pl. -goes Baseball. A practice fly ball hit to a fielder with a specially designed bat. [Origin Unknown] but as you'll see from the linked article, there's a lot more to it than that. Meanwhile, here's a bit of a photo essay to help those of you who are visual learners to better understand the more intimate details.

See that thing hanging down between Johnny Pesky's legs? That's his fungo, a bat designed expecially for hitting practice fly balls and grounders to players on the field. A fungo is generally both lighter and longer than a regular bat, with a much narrower barrel. The lighter weight and longer length allow the hitter to generate relatively more bat speed (and with greater control) than a regular bat, because they are simply hitting a ball that has been tossed into the air with their opposite hand, rather than a 98 mph fastball thrown at them by an opposing pitcher.

Now compare the bat of David Ortiz. Less length, greater weight, wider barrel. A weapon of war, rather than a practice tool...

The contrast in these photos is even more obvious.

Now look at Pesky's bat, fully extended. Can you see the longer and more narrow barrel?

Ballplayers are often very superstitious about their bats. Some pick a style early in their career and stick with it through thick and thin, while others are constantly tinkering with weight and length and balance, trying to just the perfect weapon to compliment their swing at this point in their career. Last I heard, David Ortiz was swinging a pretty conventional 34.5" 32 oz maple Nokono bat with a cupped end (to reduce weight and move the center of gravity closer to the center of the barrel). Teammate Dustin Pedroia also swings a cupped maple bat, but smaller: 33.5" and 30.5 ozs, and his bats are made by Louisville Slugger. A-Rod swings a slightly lighter bat than Big Popi, and his bats are made of ash: 34" and 31 ozs, also from Louisville slugger.

Fungos tend to run between 33 and 37 inches in length, and weigh between 17 and 19 ounces. And as you can see from the following photos, the differences are very obvious when viewed from up close.

Here are some conventional wooden bats, in an assortment of sizes, weights and even colors. But notice the relatively-larger diameter of the barrel, and compare it with its length.

With artificial composites (like aluminum, for instance) the options become even wider, and barrel width can be expanded without adding weight. Wooden bat users sometimes try to compensate for this by "corking" larger bats to reduce their weight, but this (like the spitball) is considered cheating, as well as a topic best saved for for another day.

A fairly run-of-the-mill Louisville Slugger, probably 34" 32 ozs.

And here's a comparable fungo. Maybe 37" 17 ozs?

Fungos also come in aluminum (compare with the conventional Easton bats below)...

And are available in a Rainbow of Colors.

Here you have it, a portrait of pure and perfect joy. A man in his 80's, who has probably never ingested a steroid in his life, qne can still take it deep any time he likes, with his smooth and almost effortless fungo swing. Who was it that said that it's not the size of the wand, but the magic of the performer? That's a lot of the joy of shagging fungos. Now, Go have some Fun!

Shagging Fungos

2009-07-31T21:20:00.000-07:00

Believe it or not, when I was a kid this used to be one of my favorite things to do in the world. Just grab my mitt on a sunny summer's day and ride my bike down to the schoolyard, in hopes of finding some kind of game of 'work-up" or "three flies and you're up" where I could join in. And eventually enough kids would show up that we could have a "real" game (even if it was just teams of five or six), but until then...well, let's just say that there's nothing in the world that feels quite as good as the feeling of running down a well-hit fly ball and dramatically gathering into your glove at the last possible second -- just watch a dog fetch a tennis ball, and you'll have some small idea of the potential for joy.

And then as I grew older and started to play more Organized Ball, I discovered that there were actually coaches whose main job was to hit fly balls for developing players like me to catch. It's not quite the same as standing in at third base and fielding the two or three hundred ground balls a day that will eventually make fielding ground balls feel almost instinctive, or shagging in the outfield during Batting Practice, which lets you practice getting a good jump on the ball at the crack of the bat as well as catching every ball that is hit your way. But the personal attention is always a great gift, and a talented fungo hitter can make the baseball do just about anything they like.

And now I find myself riding past empty schoolyards and wondering where all the kids have gone, or resting in bed on a hot summer afternoon wishing I still had the ability to run down a long fly ball, or even play a decent game of Catch. And if I concentrate really hard, I can still remember in my body the feeling of loping over a grassy outfield, closing distance with every stride until at last I snatch the ball from the air with my glove at precisely the moment we both arrive at the exact same place. There's nothing like it in the world. Except maybe doing the exact same thing in an important game, and robbing your opponent of an extra-base hit....

Bring me home from the ball game...

2009-06-06T08:16:00.001-07:00

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There were a dozen of us up at Haddlock Field last night, to watch the Sea Dogs take on the "baby Yankees" from Trenton. A fairly uninspiring game, actually -- Sea Dogs were trailing 1-0 after the bottom of the eighth, but we still left early to avoid the traffic, and especially trying to navigate out of the ballpark with my wheelchair.

I told everyone that we could read about it in the paper, and what a ninth inning we missed! -- Trenton scored 4 more runs in the top of the ninth (which should have sent everyone running for the exits), but the Sea Dogs rallied to come back by scoring three runs of their own. But it was too little, too late, and the inning eventually ended with the batter representing the potentially-tying run striking out. So there is no joy in Mudville...just like in the original "Casey at the Bat."

What what bothered me more though was that earlier in the game, with runners on 1st and 2nd and nobody out, rather than bunting or putting on SOME sort of play, the Dogs simply sent the next three batters to the plate to fly out (twice) and hit a weak ground ball. I mean, come on! This is double A ball, for crissakes - get the base runners moving and make people field their positions!

And then in the 6th inning another exciting (but to my mind upsetting) play, when our third base coach sent a runner home (from 1st) after a bobbled ball in left field; but the left fielder made a terrific throw, and the baserunner (Bubba Bell, who seemed to run out of gas rounding 3rd, and would later strike out to end the game), a former Texas High School football player, simply lowered his shoulder and collided with the catcher hard enough to knock him off his feet.

A real Pete Rose play - some people like it and others (including me) don't - but the catcher was able to hold on to the ball, and Bubba was out...although the poor catcher (Jesus Montero, a 19-year-old $1.6 million bonus baby from Venezuela) left the game in the next inning, and was sent up to Maine Med for "precautionary tests." But I fully expect someone from Trenton to throw a 90 MPH fastball behind Bubba's head tonight. Just to remind him that playing for keeps works both ways....

For my own part, I enjoyed the game, I enjoyed the company, and I even got photographed with Slugger the Sea Dog (who also gave me a baseball).! So who am I to complain about leaving early? The only way I could have had a BETTER time is if I were still 12 years old....

Oops!

2009-05-21T05:01:00.000-07:00

Real life has once again overtaken my ability to stay up late and follow the hoops; missed both the very exciting, down to the wire shootout in Los Angeles, and also Cleveland's upsetting loss at home against the Magic. Ouch! Nothing like getting punched in the nose in your own house. In any case, hope to do better in days ahead. Meanwhile, I'm starting to move around quite nimbly now myself with just a cane or my walker. Look out Barkley! I may be takin' you to the hole as well.

Solid Gold! (or was it Silver?)

2009-05-14T16:48:00.000-07:00

Oh! Yea! Nuggets!!! How sweet! And so hard to believe. And yet I'm starting to believe. Can hometown hero Chauncey Billups lead Mello, Nene, K-Mart and the Bird Man thru the Lakers and into the promised land, there to confront the long-frustrated Goliath of Nike and his supporting cast, and (God Willing) defeat them? One game at a time. But it sure is hard to run with the boys from Denver a mile above sea level. And Mr Big Shot knows what it's like to wear the ring. And what you've got to do to earn that right as well.

So what is it? Punk? Or Thug?

2009-05-12T18:45:00.000-07:00

Actually, I just hope that Kenyon Martin takes coach Karl's advice, and Mark Cuban takes K Mart and his family to a really nice place, and that everyone has a convivial ol' time and lives happily ever after. [LINK] That is, AFTER the Nuggets finally eliminate the Mavs from the play-offs Wednesday night, and avoid any unnecessary return trips to Texas this season. At the very least I hope they stay away from wherever Chris Andersen had dinner before Game Four. Shoulda hadda sweep boys! Shoulda hadda sweep.

Death and Texas

2009-05-10T16:14:00.000-07:00

Mark Cuban must be about ready for an aneurism, but so far he's kept his cool and held his tongue and let yesterday's no-call at the end speak for itself. But you know, with the number of fouls that WERE called in that game, what are the Mavs doing with a foul to give at the end of the fourth quarter anyway? There are some who might say that the officiating had been a little unbalanced right from the opening tip, and that those who live by the no-call die by the no-call. That sort of thing. But at the final buzzer, the Nuggets are up 3-0, and the Mavs are all but toast -- playing now for a little pride to avoid a sweep against a team that is hot, hot, hot and playing loose....

Meanwhile, down in Houston Yao Ming is gone for the season, but the Rockets responded by blasting off and evening things up with the Lakers now 2-2. And I still believe this year is destined to become an LA/Cleveland (Kobe/LeBron) showdown, but the Lakers are going to have to show me a lot better defense if they want to get past a Houston team that in many ways is a lot quicker and more difficult to match up against without Yao than with him. And with Denver waiting patiently for the winner...well, let's just hope that Dallas can extend that series long enough that the Nuggets don't get rusty sitting around waiting.

And what is really amazing to me is San Antonio's early exit. Or even just the idea that the Spurs are actually now only the third best basketball team in Texas, rather than number ONE. I guess I've just learned to expect another Spurs championship in every odd-numbered year. But they'll be back again next year for real I'm sure. And a week from now, nobody will still be playing basketball in Texas anyway....

Put a fork in them...they're done...

2009-05-05T12:06:00.000-07:00

I'm sorry, but without Kevin Garnett on the court, the Celtics just aren't a championship caliber team. And it's great to see how Rondo and Davis have improved since last year's championship, and Marbury is getting over his stage fright, and Pierce and Allen are both still capable of scoring in big bunches. But there are lots of other teams in that category right now as well: Cleveland, Los Angeles, Houston, Denver...and this year, one of THEM is going to be champion....

Past my Bedtime...

2009-04-30T20:40:00.000-07:00

These triple-overtime games are going to be the death of me. The Bulls are certainly capable of giving the KG-less Celtics all they can handle. Exciting though to see the growing maturity of players like Rondo and "Big Baby" Davis. And sad to see Paul Pierce compound this 3OT TO with a stupid, frustration foul at the other end, which also just so happened to send him to the bench with his sixth. And BOY did Ray Allen light it up! But the Bulls, the Bulls...there's just no quit in those kids. And with seven OTs so far this series, they've already played the equivalent of all but the last three minutes of a game seven. As for me, I need to rest just from watching....

Stealing Home and Sweeping a Series

2009-04-28T15:45:00.000-07:00

Well, I was planning to post the video of Red Sox center fielder Jacoby Ellsbury stealing home against the Yankees last weekend, a bonehead play for which I would have been tempted to strangle him also, but still quite a spectacle which certainly sent the crowd at Fenway out of control and must have taken some of the starch out of the boys in pinstripes.

But apparently there's some hassle about Major League baseball and the "broadcast, descriptions, and accounts" and all that other legal copyright stuff...so instead I'm stuck posting a movie of this Dramatic NASCAR car crash instead. (The whole idea of watching car wrecks for entertainment was distressing enough before some blogger added in the extra music. Just another reason not to like NASCAR, I guess).

Meanwhile, back at Fenway, it just makes me feel good to see a fellow Oregon State University Beaver doing so well in the Major Leagues. I'm told Ellsbury is the only Native American playing in the Majors. Not only does he have blazing speed, a hot bat and a great glove, he also has an amazing vertical leap, and apparently (like a lot of kids who grew up on the Rez), he really likes to hoop it up, and in High School would often jump center (and win!) against players 8 inches taller.

Oh wait, maybe THIS LINK might work.

Team Nickname Trivia

2009-04-26T18:34:00.001-07:00

My brother Erik had an interesting trivia question today at lunch. Can you name five NCAA Division I teams whose nicknames do NOT a) involve a color, or b) end in the letter "S"?

Here is an example of a favorite team of mine that fails on both counts:

The University of Minnesota Golden Gophers

And here is the one that no one EVER seems to get:

*correct answer appears below

Now, are you ready for the quiz?

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The "Fighting Irish" of Notre Dame

The United States Naval Academy Midshipmen

The North Carolina State University Wolfpack

The "Thundering Herd" of Marshall University

The University of Massachusetts Minutemen

And missing this last was truly an embarrassment to those of us who live here in New England, even if we did grow up and attend college on the West Coast, where the teams have names like Ducks, Huskies, Beavers and Cougars, leaving leaving terminally-educated alums like myself with the uncomfortable choice between quacking, barking, or simply slapping the surface of the pond with my tail and diving as deeply underwater as I can....

* Answer to the unidentified team image above: the University of Illinois Fighting Illini

Barack Obama explains his NCAA bracket

2009-03-20T16:04:00.000-07:00

Well, *I* found in entertaining! It pains me not to be able to play any longer myself, and I'm also not even certain how many games I will be able to watch. But I will do my level best...and until they are eliminated, I'm still rooting for the Pac-10 myself. Go Dawgs!

CELEBRATING THE PAC-10

2009-01-01T14:05:00.001-08:00

I've given up even the illusion that anyone actually reads this blog any more, but still it's fun to write here on occasion, simply when the occasion seems appropriate. Such as the real treat it was to watch the Rose Bowl game tonight. Sure, I would have rather seen Oregon State get another crack at the Nitty Lions, but watching the Trojans open up that can of second quarter whoop-ass pretty much made up for what would have probably been (in all honesty) a pretty heart-breaking Beaver loss.

As it was, Penn State gave me a little scare there in the 4th quarter, especially after the USC long snapper rocketed the ball over the punter's head with less than a minute left in the game. I could see it all unravelling right before my eyes: a quick TD, an onside kick, a hail-Mary pass and...

But these are the Trojans, not the Huskies...thank God!

I don't really watch much TV these days, so this really was a treat for me. I'd already missed both Oregon and Oregon State's bowl appearances...but knowing that the Pac-10 went 5-0 in bowl games this year really makes me proud to have gone to college on the West Coast, yes, as a Dawg as well as a Duck and a Beaver. And it was sweet to be able to see the Huskies new Head Coach Steve Sarkisian in action, and to daydream about how much of that magic he might be able to bring to Husky stadium next year. A lot, I hope. The Dawgs could really use it....

Here's another real treat thanks to Google Earth: a photograph of the house in Ballard where my dad and my aunt grew up. I'd heard lots of stories of what it was like growing up there, but still it's pretty cool to be able to see it with my own eyes from the other side of the country. Thanks Google Earth!

Why I Love Women's Sports

2008-12-20T16:10:00.000-08:00

Amazing HS Basketball Shot!

2008-12-04T04:51:00.000-08:00

Yes, this is pretty amazing. Also great testimony to the importance of running the floor and crashing the boards, even when it all seems futile. Sometimes the ball takes funny bounces. That's why they call them "hustle plays." (If you miss the shot the first time, the tape cycles through and shows it again before it ends).

Obi wannabe Obama

2008-11-07T06:38:00.000-08:00

OK, I harbor NO illusions that anyone actually reads this blog any more, or that any one but me has EVER read it even when I was playing and posting regularly myself. And I admit I miss both the hoop and the camaraderie of playing regularly with the same bunch of guys, any one of whom COULD have read these words and shared in the experience of them, if they only had the care to. But this is too cool. The President-elect is a baller. He runs, he hoops, he's the real deal. Makes me proud to be an American. No, really....

When Quarterbacks Go Down

2008-09-08T16:27:00.000-07:00

So this week it's supermodel-dating Tom Brady, out for the season with what no one will say (but everyone assumes) is a torn ACL. But what bothers me...more that I can express, really... is how this all gets framed around the team's diminished chances for success, and wrapped up in the euphemism of "going down" -- like some sort of machine that has blown a gasket, crashed, gone Kaput, is off-line.

Or maybe it's more like a casualty of war...even though this is really nothing more than a stupid game played over insane amounts of money -- not just for the players, but the owners, the broadcasters, the venders and the advertisers, the gamblers....all of whose fortunes are potentially diminished (or enhanced!) because a certain star player has "gone down."

And, of course, I think about my own disability...or however you want to frame IT. Technically Brady and I both only work for an hour a week on Sunday mornings/afternoons (although there is certainly plenty of practice and preparation that go into getting ready for that hour's worth of performance). But when I got sick last spring, after what turned out to be my final sermon of the year at Easter, I can't imagine it occurred to anyone involved to refer to my infirmity as "going down."

Or maybe I'm wrong. Maybe that's EXACTLY what they thought. Maybe they were just too polite to say it in my presence.

But I'm coming back.

And hopefully for a long, long time to come....

"Where Triples go to die..."

2008-08-28T15:39:00.000-07:00

I couldn't remember exactly to whose glove this appellation was said to apply, and of course, as it turns out, it is several. Willie Mays for starters, although it didn't begin with him. Shoeless Joe Jackson wore the mitt back in the dead ball days when a triple really meant something, and home runs were few and far between. But apparently it originated with one-time Red Sox center fielder and later Cleveland Indians Player Manager Tris Speaker, who despite being overshadowed by Ty Cobb his entire career, in my mind is always better remembered as a hitter (with a lifetime batting average of .344), but was also apparently known as the greatest defensive center fielder of his day.

His nickname was "the Gray Eagle," and The Baseball Page has him ranked as the 6th greatest center fielder of all time, behind Willie Mays, Ty Cobb, Ken Griffey Jr., Joe DiMaggio and Mickey Mantle. According to BaseballLibrary.com, Speaker "is the all-time Major League leader in outfield assists (448) and double plays (139), as well as the AL leader in outfield putouts (6,706)." Although he played "only seven full seasons with Boston, he is second on the club all-time in both triples (106) and stolen bases (266), and is third behind Wade Boggs and Ted Williams in batting (.337)."

The triple-killing catch which inspired the comment may well have been one similar to the catch Speaker made off of a ball hit by his rival Shoeless Joe to win the pennant for the 1920 Indians in a season-ending game against the Chicago White Sox. According to Wikipedia, while moving at [a] "dead run, Speaker leaped with both feet off the ground" and "caught a screaming line drive hit to deep right-center field" before "crashing into a concrete wall." Although the impact knocked him unconscious, the Gray Eagle "still had a viselike grip on the ball."

As a former center fielder myself, I know well that indescribable thrill of running down a well-hit fly ball and turning it into an out. As a kid, I was like a terrier after a tennis ball; and it really didn't matter to me whether I was catching fungos, or shagging batting practice, or playing shallow in the late innings of a close game where cutting off a run at the plate meant everything, and a ball hit over my head was meaningless. I've admired Ken Griffey Jr. and Fred Lynn (whose injury-plagued careers in some ways resemble my own experience with Our National Pastime); I've seen film of Willie Mays in his prime, and wondered about Negro League players like Cool Papa Bell or Oscar Charleston; and of course I've read about Ty Cobb and Tris Speaker, Mickey Mantle and Joe DiMaggio, and wondered how contemporary players like Johnny Damon or Grady Sizemore would size up alongside these no-longer living legends.

A five-tool talent, who hits for power and average, has speed on the basepaths, a golden glove, and can run down anything hit his way. Tris Speaker was the prototype of this style of center fielder, and all these others...his good friend Ty Cobb included, mimic his exemplary excellence.

Olympic Hoops

2008-08-11T06:19:00.000-07:00

And I heard on the radio this morning that an estimated a billion people watched yesterday's game between the USA and China. That's one BILLION -- with a "B." And believe it or not, I was not one of them -- chose instead to go to church, where I was able to share the good news about my lung cancer -- that even though my primary tumor isn't shrinking, it doesn't appear to be growing any either...and (more importantly) there are no additional metastases either. I don't really know whether that technically puts me in "remission" or not ("remission of sin" is so much easier to define), but it does mean that at the conclusion of this current protocol of chemotherapy we will be adopting a "wait and watch" attitude, which means diet and exercise rather than more toxic medicines...at least for the time being....

Meanwhile, after today's game all the twenty-somethings were out playing pick-up hoops in the schoolyard down the street from my old apartment. Drove by on our way to dinner...and yes, it made me wish that I were still healthy enough to get out there and run with them. But that's not going to happen again any time soon...may in fact never happen again. So maybe I'm going to have to settle for watching from my chair with a wistful smile...and trying NOT to be one of those guys who starts every sentence "well, back in MY day...."

Meanwhile, if you are at all interested in my cancer blog, you can link to it HERE

At Last, the Eastern Conference Finals

2008-05-21T03:34:00.000-07:00

And I'm actually very happy with the way the play-offs have worked out: these are four very good teams, all of whom I've supported over the years, and any one of which deserves to win it all provided they can defeat the others. First to eight, I believe the rules are now. Last night the Celtics made it to "1" -- which really proves nothing except that they've managed to hold court and everyone's had a chance to get reacquainted. What are the big issues in that series?

How close to 100% will Chauncey Billups be?

Pierce, Garnett, Allen -- have the "Big Three" become two minus zero, and how important will it be if the Celtics are to win it all for Allen to find his touch again? Or is this team really turning into Pierce plus Garnett, with a nice mix of veterans (Allen, Sam Cassell, PJ Brown) and youth (Rondo, Powe, Davis) that Danny Ainge has put around them? And will Doc Rivers be able to figure out how to use that talent in order to win seven more games from the three best teams in the league?

In any event, last night's game was so much less frustrating to watch than ANY of the Cleveland series, which had me questioning whether I really wanted to stay up late to watch any more of the playoffs myself at all. I feel already like it's going to be a bit of a slugfest -- which actually makes me feel a little sad. The defense is SO intense it's easy at moments to overlook it -- the challenged shots, the rotations, the rebounding...these guys don't rest for a second...and there are certainly plenty of hands out in the passing lanes on the kick-outs as well.

Still, I'm looking for Detroit to really amp-up the pressure on the Celtics in Game Two -- especially on their guards, where the Celts are frankly overmatched if Billups is Billups again. And I'm looking for Ray Allen to go on a little 10-0 run of his own to start the second quarter: maybe an open three in transition, a drive to the basket, a drive to the basket with foul shots, and another three from the corner after a drive and dish. 10 points in about 90 seconds, and nobody will be complaining about him being Missing in Action again. But his teammates have got to get him the ball, and he's got to be willing to shoot it. Portland to Waltham! Are you receiving me?

Playoff or Playground?

2008-04-10T18:43:00.001-07:00

I thought this Denver/Golden State game would be entertaining, but those last three scores before the half: Carmello Anthony's breakaway dunk, the Baron Davis assist from the corner, and AI's fadeaway at the buzzer...well, does it REALLY matter how much is at stake for these guys to play their hardest? They're playing for "next." It's as simple as that. One of these teams is going to keep the court, and the other is going to have to wait a long, long time to play again. So they're pulling out all the stops. It's a thing of beauty. And I NEVER thought I'd hear myself say THAT!!!

Jayhawks Soar

2008-04-05T19:40:00.000-07:00

As for the nightcap, I came into tonight's games believing that North Carolina was the best team in the nation, and expecting them to win the entire tournament. But I also was feeling a strong emotional connection and support for Kansas; after all, My Former Wife is a Jayhawk, and this is the 20th anniversary of that exciting Danny Manning/Larry Brown victory over the Oklahoma Sooner Boomers that won her office pool for us when we were still newlyweds and living in West Texas. The intangible emotional impact of a season-ending practice injury for much-beloved Senior Guard Rodrick Stewart also figured into my sentiments, so when the game started out like what appeared would be an opening tip to closing buzzer blow out for the boys from Lawrence I was both astonished and quietly delighted. The fact that the Tar Heels could cut that almost 30 point lead essentially in half before half-time made it a game again, even though it was really just the mirror of the impressive but much more quiet 18-0 run the Jayhawks poured on to build it in the first place. The Kansas players were clearly a little gassed having run up such a margin, and the Tar Heels took advantage to claw back closer.

Kansas came out with a great set play to begin the second half, but the Tar Heels put on two more good runs to get the game down to single digits again. By the time the clock had clicked down to under 10 minutes, the game was competitive again, but the Jayhawks executed better down the stretch to claim their berth on Monday night. Kansas had the better game plan, UNC made the better half-time adjustments, but at the end of the evening KU had the horses to outwork the hardest working player in basketball, and really deserved this victory.

My bracket is technically over now. I picked 45 games correctly, which (depending on how the other players in my approximately 25,000 participant Fox Bracket pool performed tonight) puts me somewhere close to the top 10%. Rock Chock Jay Hawk! Monday should be a barnburner.

Surprising Tigers

2008-04-05T17:23:00.000-07:00

My thoughts on the five main reasons the Memphis Tigers beat the UCLA Bruins tonight:

* Improved free throw shooting. From 60-something during the regular season to over 80% tonight. That alone is enough to make the difference in the margin of victory.

* Superior guard play. The Memphis backcourt was a lot longer, a lot quicker, and basically just a lot more effective than the much-praised Bruin guards. Memphis also made much better decisions about what to DO with the ball, while UCLA'a horrid shooting from beyond the arc was like a dagger in their own heart.

* Better defensive energy. It seemed to me that Memphis simply beat the Bruins to the ball at just about every opportunity. UCLA on the other hand made a habit out of making turnovers that were apparently unforced, but were probably mostly the result of haste in response to the presence of Tigers on the hardwood. As for getting the ball in more often to Kevin Love, good luck. This guy was drawing two and a half defenders even WITHOUT the ball. The other guys need to make their lay-ups.

* Better offensive recognition. Not only did the Memphis guards play harder, they also played a lot smarter. Better recognition, better decision making, better shot selection, better, better, better.

* All around better coaching. Congratulations John Calipari! 38 wins is a helluva accomplishment. And maybe on Monday, you'll be able to add a championship to number 39.

Madness Update 2008

2008-03-30T06:46:00.000-07:00

Well, just because one is in the hospital doesn't mean that the outside world comes to a crashing halt. This has actually been a fairly congenial spot to watch the tournament, although the TV isn't really big enough, I can't get a beer, and there aren't any buffalo wings on the menus. But apart from that....

The Eastern bracket is now complete and mine was perfect: picked every game correctly, and have UNC advancing to the Championship Game with UCLA next weekend. The Western bracket is also finished: missed five games over there (had Arizona over West Virginia and Duke over the Wildcats, as well as Drake over Western Kentucky and U Conn all the way to the Elite Eight), but at least UCLA has played through to the Final Four as predicted.

One game left to play tonight in the South, where I only missed three games: had Oregon and Kentucky winning in the first round, and expected Stanford to beat Texas Friday night. But if Memphis wins through this evening than that part of my bracket will also be back in line with what I'd predicted at the start of the Tourney.

And, of course, like many brackets I suspect, my Midwest is a mess -- miss-picked 7 games there, mostly thanks to the Amazing Davidson. Tonight I had Wisconsin over KU, but I'll be rooting for the 10th-seeded Cinderella instead, even though My Former Wife is a Jayhawk.

Next weekend: UNC over Davidson/KU and UCLA over Memphis or (God forbid) Texas. And the National Championship to the Tarheels! That's how I see it. But mostly I'm just looking forward to watching. At home....

POSTGAME POSTSCRIPT

Midnight has come and gone, and Cinderella has left the building: hot, sweaty, and smelling slightly of pumpkin. The Memphis/Texas game went pretty much the way I'd hoped and expected, but Davidson/Kansas -- what a heartwarmer! The underdogs gave the Jayhawks everything they could handle, had a chance to win it at the end with a buzzer beater, and even had three good looks in the last couple of minutes to pull it out.

But at the end of the evening, the four Regional number one seeds advance to the Final Four for what I'm told is the first time in tournament history. Four very strong, proud, and historically prestigious programs. I can't wait for next weekend to begin.

The Resurrection and the Life

2008-03-21T07:41:00.000-07:00

My apologies for having to share such private and personal news in such a public and impersonal way, but one of the few drawbacks of being blessed with so many good friends is that the task of trying to contact all of you individually is simply overwhelming. A few weeks ago I went to see my physician after waking up in the middle of the night and noticing that I was coughing up blood. A subsequent chest x-ray and other diagnostic testing revealed a malignant tumor approximately the size of a tennis ball in my right lung. Obviously, I would have much rather learned that I had just won the Powerball Jackpot, but the good news is that even though this cancer is relatively advanced, it can still be treated. And so I'm scheduled to begin my chemotherapy the week after Easter. I've also started a "cancer blog" at http://onedayisle.blogspot.com which I hope you will all take the time to visit and explore. Please leave your comments and good wishes. I look forward to hearing from you!

Tim

It's Bracket Time!

2008-03-19T15:20:00.000-07:00

Here's mine.

Three-Ways

2008-03-11T08:47:00.000-07:00

That's actually the etymology of the word "trivia." Tri Via. Three Ways, in Latin. At the intersections where three Roman Roads converged, officials used to post news and other important announcements that travelers needed to know. I don't really know how that evolved into the "trivia" we know today, but it did. So there you have it.

Haven't really been posting to this blog much lately, mostly because I haven't been playing much basketball myself, and I haven't really been watching much either. What I HAVE been doing is going down to my local sports bar on Monday Nights to play a trivia game they've brought in to attract more patrons now that Monday Night Football is over for the season. Sometimes I team up with friends I know from the bar, and other nights I end up having to compete all by myself. For some unknown reason, I always seem to do better on my own...even though as a group we clearly know more of the answers.

I generally compete under a different team name each time, just so my competitors can't scope me out. But last night's name was the best so far: Carpe Scrotum (which translates roughly as "grab 'em by the balls!"). And duly inspired, I once again won the grand prize for the second time this year...scoring 101 total points, which I think has only been beaten (at least in my experience there) one other time, by my own other high score of 108. Won a ball cap, some "Bingas Bucks," a tee-shirt and some sexy women's underwear; kept the first two, and gave away the latter to couple of young women I'm eagerly trying to recruit on to Team Scrotum. I always get slaughtered on the pop culture, contemporary music and TV questions. So I need someone on my team who actually pays attention to what Lindsey Lohan is up to these days.

The hardest part about playing as part of a team (as opposed to playing by myself) is communication, and being able to trust your team mates. The game has a betting element: you can put a lot of points on questions you know, and fewer on answers you're not that sure about, but you can only use each point value once per round. When I'm playing by myself, I either know or I don't and bet accordingly. But when I'm playing as part of a team....well, we still haven't really mastered that process yet. Two options though -- either everyone suggests and someone decides, or we try to do it by consensus. Or better yet, a routine, a strategy, a lot of trust....and a good facilitator too.

But the really silly thing is how HAPPY it makes me to win these stupid contests. Guess I'm actually a lot more competitive than I let on.

CARPE SCROTUM!

Cougs Pluck Ducks in the Pit

2008-02-17T04:00:00.000-08:00

I've been so distracted by work that I haven't really been following the Pac 10 hoops as closely as I would like, but clearly the WSU Cougars are this year's most interesting story -- only two losses through January 30, both on the road to perennial powerhouses UCLA and Arizona, then a tough week at home with three consecutive losses to Cal, Stanford (14) and again to the number 5 Bruins...they've dropped down into the 20's in the polls, but are now apparently back on a winning streak again. And last night another big milestone: they went down to Eugene and beat the Ducks on Mac Court for the first time in 13 years!

Unfortunately, I missed seeing the game...which perhaps was a good thing, given the currently delicate state of my hoop-health. But once again, congratulations to the Cougs. I'm really starting to look forward to seeing them play in the tournament next month....

Sixty Minutes from Perfection

2008-02-04T08:03:00.000-08:00

And I guess the sad truth is that the Patriots were anything but close to perfect Sunday, which is why there are so many disappointed Patriot Fans with terrible hangovers on Monday morning. And maybe it really was the Giants' great defense that made Number 12 look like a Tom Brady-impersonater for so much of the game. But in my mind it all really boils down to two possessions: the Giants first and the Giants last -- in the first they converted several key third-down situation, ate up most of the first quarter doing so, and came away with first blood.

Patriots answered with a touchdown of their own on the first play of the second quarter, and then it was ugliness incarnate for the next 30 minutes of game time, with an aging pretty boy Petty thrown in half-way through for entertainment purposes only. But the fourth quarter was some of the most fun and exciting football I've ever seen anywhere -- and even though it broke my heart, Eli Manning's Houdini-like escape from the paws of the rampaging Patriot defensive line combined with David Tyree's magnificent one-handed off-the-back-of-the-helmet catch was one of the most amazing highlight reel plays ever.

Yet it shouldn't have mattered. I was SO certain Asante Samuel had that pass picked; while as a one-time defensive back myself, watching Plaxico Burress humiliate Ellis Hobbs on the corner fade for the Giant's final TD left me shaking my head in astonishment. I bet after that play Coach Belechick would have given just about anything for another chance at a 48 yard field goal.

Anyway, it's all history now...and (with the exception of that amazing escape and catch) the one thing I'll probably remember best is the Budweiser ad about the Dalmation and the Clydesdale. Maybe next year Hank....

Parker in Winter

2008-02-01T09:31:00.000-08:00

"Pick, Pop, Penetrate, Draw and Kick"

2008-01-21T10:30:00.000-08:00

OK, like most American sports fans I was watching the Giants and the Packers head into overtime. But on the Picture-in-Picture there was a great college basketball game between the University of Oregon Ducks and the 8th-ranked Washington State University Cougars, which I just couldn't keep my eyes off of. The Ducks had won the last dozen meetings, and it was a back-and-forth battle right from the opening tip -- the Ducks got out to about a 10 point lead, the Cougs went on a strong run to catch them just before the half; Oregon went into the locker room with a 4 point lead, Cougs caught them in the opening minutes of the second half, and then it was back-and-forth again all the way down to the last minute or so, where the Cougars finally broke the curse, got out to a bit of a lead, and won it shooting free throws. Ducks had two good looks at the basket in the closing seconds -- a wide-open three at the top of the circle and a contested lay-up off a drive down the right side of the lane, but missed them both. And I'll tell you, it was a lot more fun to watch than two missed field goals, a bunch of dropped passes, and an interception in overtime which led (at last) to a game-ending made kick. What can I say? Third Time's a Charm. Or maybe it's Three Strikes and You're Out.

The Pats game was much more fun to watch, especially since I went out to see it in a local sports bar where I am now considered a "regular." The Chargers defense really won my respect; three picks of Brady, and the Pats had to work hard for everything they got. But at the end, after New England jumped out to the 9 point lead, I knew San Diego was finished. (Actually, I knew they were finished when they had to settle for their fourth field goal there in the third quarter -- since I knew the Patriots still had another touchdown in them, and didn't think the Chargers could match them). Once New England was ahead by two scores, it was jailbreak time for the Patriot Defense -- Dog at will, hang back in coverage, jump routes...the Chargers didn't have a chance. And when the Pats had the ball, it was old-fashioned smash-mouth football with a twist. The just ground the Chargers into the turf in that last possession, and ended up winning it with a kneel-down.

So, Super-Bowl Sunday in a couple of weeks. Wouldn't it be fun to have the College Football Championship to look forward to next weekend?

No real Blaze, just cold Heat...

2008-01-19T06:22:00.000-08:00

I'd really been looking forward to the Trailblazers annual visit to Beantown this year, just to see what it would be like for the young, hot team on an extended road trip to meet up with the local squad of seasoned All-Star veterans on the legendary parquet floor. And the game was...well, OK -- fun to watch and always closely contested, but frankly a little disappointing in the 4th quarter, when the two teams basically just played straight-up man-to-man defense and traded baskets down the stretch. Maybe it's too much to ask for a young team in the middle of a long, mid-season road trip to play play-off intensity defense in a game that is ultimately just one of eight-two, but that's what I would have LIKED to have seen.

Last night's game in Miami was better in this regard. The Heat are in a tailspin right now -- a dozen-game losing streak, after the Blazers put another "W" in the books last night -- but both teams seemed to play with a lot more intensity, and as a result the game was a lot more fun to watch. Shaq and Dwayne are still two of the greatest players in the game, but to my mind the Heat are really missing the chemistry of their championship level teams, and especially the intangibles brought by veterans like Gary Payton and Alonzo Mourning. But you know, those legendary All-Stars can't keep it up forever. And Shaq ain't gettin' any younger either.

Once the Blazers learn how to win on the road, they are going to be a force to be reckoned with in this league for a long, long time. As for the Celtics, if you want to catch a glimpse of THEIR future...look at the Heat. Let's just hope for the sake of Danny and Doc that they are able to squeeze in a championship of their own first.

Play Hard, Play Smart, Play Together

2008-01-08T08:37:00.000-08:00

Allstate BCS Championship Game. Yawn. Ho Hum. Who cares? Go Tigers. Sorry Buckeyes. The field goal kicking contest at halftime was the most entertaining part of the broadcast. And the truth is, I don't really care much about college football after New Years Day...but if the fans/gamblers really feel there has to be a National Champion, I say lets go back to the old system of issuing Bowl invitations, and then go ahead and have a eight-team January playoff based on the outcomes of the top eight-ranked traditional bowl games. You know, just a little something extra to extend the season and compete with the NFL. You win, John Feinstein. And God knows we need SOMETHING to watch on TV during the dead week before the Super Bowl.

Haven't blogged much about basketball here, simply because I haven't had much time to watch (and even less to play). But I did have a chance to see the Trailblazers beat the Bulls, and the Celtics beat the Pistons...both times with the winners playing on the road. Everyone wants to talk about how great the Celtics are playing, and about their big three stars of Paul Pierce, Kevin Garnett, and Ray Allen; but Saturday night it was #11 Glenn "Big Baby" Davis who was getting it done in crunch time. What I really liked was his strong left hand around the basket. And the way he hit the boards.

But it was my old hometown Trailblazers who really showed me something. Gotta love that Brandon Roy -- who'd a thunk that a WASHINGTON Huskey could have so much game? Nate MacMillian has the kids playing like veterans, just like Doc Rivers has his veterans playing like kids. Now I can hardly wait for a week from tomorrow, when these two teams meet in the Garden. Hope it turns out to be a barnburner....

Laundry Day

2007-12-31T17:42:00.000-08:00

It's a good day to be a Duck. A lovely debut for Jason Roper (#11!), and a very nice record-setting, season-ending celebration for Jonathan Stewart as well. 56-21. A helluva way to end what was shaping up to be a disappointing season.

Of course, there were an awful lot of hankies littering the field in the first half. Set a new record there too, I believe. Good thing those Ducks came out and played with more "poise" after intermission....

And now, good bye to 2007. And may we all find even more to celebrate in 2008!

The Big Play

2007-12-30T14:43:00.000-08:00

This is shaping up as a VERY good year for Boston sports fans: the Red Sox have already the World Series, the Celtics have the best record in the NBA, and the Patriots set a handful of fresh records last night in completing their perfect 16-0 regular season. Still, last night's game was a little touch and go. The real momentum changer was obviously the fourth quarter Brady to Moss TD, with which both players set new records for the number of touchdowns thrown in a season (50 for Brady, ) and touchdowns caught (23 for Moss). But what I really liked was that it came on a deep route similar (if not identical) to the one Moss had run the play before, and against the same defender (who had apparently injured himself breaking up the previous play). Nothing like ruthlessly exploiting the weak and vulnerable to represent the essence of what American football is all about! Go Pats! And congratulations on your fine achievement. Now, good luck in the next three games leading to a Super Bowl victory and a truly perfect season.

Oh those Cougs....

2007-12-24T12:57:00.000-08:00

What has gotten into the Washington State University basketball program? My nephew (who regular readers of this blog, if there are any, already know plays in the Wazu pep band) must be going crazy. First a football victory over the Huskies on the road in Seattle to win the Apple Cup, and now WSU is entering the Pac-10 season undefeated and ranked number 4 in the NCAA, with a victory over Gonzaga already in the book. So, I guess it's just a good time to be living in Pullman. Good on ya' Cougars!

Lame Ducks

2007-12-02T03:55:00.000-08:00

OK, maybe I'm just getting cranky in my old age, but you'd think that even a redshirt freshman third-string quarterback would know enough to spike the ball on second down with less than thirty seconds left in the game in order to set up a game-winning chip-shot field goal. Especially after the coach just gave him that same instruction on the sideline the play before. But after all they've been through this year, I guess that confusion reigns in Eugene these days...and for the first time since 1993 the Beavers have beaten their Civil War rivals on the road in Autzen Stadium, in overtime no less. So good job Beavs!

Meanwhile, just down the road from Pearl Harbor in Aloha Stadium, the Huskies blow a 21 point 1st Quarter lead and still-undefeated Hawaii proves that despite their difficulty in scheduling more challenging opponents way out there in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, maybe they really are worthy of a little more respect. Thank God that the worst of it all happened past my bedtime. Payday for the Warriors is going to be about $4 million if they get a BSC invitation (to the Sugar Bowl?). And who says these college kids aren't "professionals?"

Meanwhile, I guess it just sucks to be a Dawg these days too. Last weekend the Cougars beat them in Seattle to win the Apple cup, which no doubt thrilled my nephew (who plays in the WSU pep band) while disappointing his parents, grandparents, and of course his uncles, all of whom (with the exception of my mom, who passed away last summer) are U-Dub alums. So I'm simply going to chalk that one up as a tribute to her and let it go. After all, every Cougar should have her day too....

COMING THIS XMAS TO AN XBOX NEAR YOU

2007-11-23T01:17:00.000-08:00

Compliments of the US Army, and Redstorm Entertainment. www.truesoldiersgame.com

Posted this link on my theological blog without comment, but here for some reason (possibly just to round out what I had to say about football a few weeks ago) I feel inspired to add my two cents worth.

For most of human history, the experience of warfare has been made up mostly of months and months of campaigning: two armies marching around the countryside at a speed of a few miles a day, each looking for an opportunity to bring its enemy to battle on a ground of its own choosing. The battles themselves might last as long as dawn to dusk, and mostly consisted of two large groups of armed men trying to stab one another with sharp weapons or maybe shoot each other with arrows. Most of the casualties generally came late in the day, after one side had broken down or been outmanuevered, and the guys who could afford good armor and fast horses (and had been watching from the hilltops all morning) got to chase after the other guys (who had thrown away their weapons and were running away as fast as they could) and chop their heads off from behind. Meanwhile, their counterparts on the other side jumped on their fast horses and rode off into the sunset to fight another day.

And as bloody as these slaughters could get, most of the actual casualties in warfare still generally came from disease brought about by months and months of camping out in the countryside with thousands of other guys -- rotten food and a lack of clean water, poor sanitation, crowded conditions, foul weather....you get the picture. But for a relatively well-to-do young man on the winning side, it could sure seem like a helluva adventure. And of course, these were the guys who also got to live to tell the tale to their children and grandchildren.

Nowadays, of course, things are a lot different. Our soldiers in Baghdad can eat burgers and pizza if they choose, take hot shows and crap in real toilets, phone home, watch TV, surf the web, even play video games. They commute to the battlefield in armored vehicles, possess the most advanced weaponry technology can produce and money can buy, and the best medical care in the world is only moments away. But if anything, the experience of warfare in the 21st century is worse than it has ever been.

We think we have sanitized warfare because we can now kill each other by remote control. But the constant stress of daily life in a combat zone, and the intimate knowledge that one is there to kill and can be killed without warning at any moment, has serious psychological consequences that we are only slowly beginning to understand and grapple with. Combat is an inherently stressful and unnatural activity. The question is not whether it will affect our soldiers, but how and when.

High tech kevlar body armor and superb battlefield medical care haven't really reduced the number of casualties our soldiers suffer; they've simply changed the ratio between the killed and the wounded. And then there is always the issue of morale. Patriotism and the power of positive thinking can only take us so far in justifying an activity sustained by lies and inherently without meaning.

Don't get me wrong. I have nothing but the greatest respect and gratitude for the young men and women who have volunteered to put their lives on the line to do the important and necessary job of defending our country from armed attack. And if anything, I have even more admiration and respect for the somewhat older and more mature men and women who have committed their lives to training and leading these young people: giving them the skills they need to do their jobs well, and attempting to keep them safe and bring them home alive and unharmed by making good decisions under fire.

The folks I CAN'T abide are the cynical and ambitious civilian leaders who have thoughtlessly put our soldiers in harm's way in order to enrich themselves and their croneys, settle old scores, prove to their mothers that they are just as good as their fathers, and consolidate their hold on political power for another generation. Their own children sit safely in the elite bastions of power, untouched by the horror of warfare, and waiting for their turn to rule the world. Because they are the "winners." And everyone knows that the army is for "losers."

And it makes me sick. Because war is not a game.

And neither, frankly, is politics.

Hangin' Out to Dry

2007-11-19T06:01:00.000-08:00

OK, it's just a silly little visual, but it made ME smile.

Why I Hate Football

2007-11-16T10:09:00.000-08:00

For five minutes and thirteen seconds yesterday, the Oregon Ducks looked like they could do no wrong. Moved the ball practically at will, scored an easy 39 yard touchdown on 4th and 3; added a two-point conversion when they caught the Wildcats napping at the line of scrimmage, then intercepted a pass, ran a clever reverse that took them down to the 3 yard line, and looked ready to score again when the ball caroomed off of receiver Derrick Jones' shoulder pad and Arizona safety Nate Ness made an athletic interception and ran the ball back to nearly midfield. 90 seconds later the Wildcats scored a touchdown of their own to pull within a point. Oregon got the ball back on the kick-off, and had driven down to the Arizona 15 when with six minutes and six seconds left in the first quarter, Heisman Trophy candidate Oregon Quarterback Dennis Dixon tried to plant his left foot, felt his injured left knee give out beneath him, and was out for the game, and probably the season, and quite possibly the rest of his football "career." The Ducks kicked a field goal to bring their score to 11, but from that moment forward it was pretty much all-Wildcats for the next 45 minutes, until the Ducks finally managed to score another touchdown midway through the 4th quarter. Too little, too late. Arizona prevails 34-24, and Oregon's hopes of a national championship evaporate in the dry desert air.

I don't really "hate" football; actually, I played football as a kid, and it has certainly given me plenty of pleasure and entertainment over the years. But there is also an awful lot about football that I really don't care for very much, and crippling knee and head and spinal cord injuries are three of them. Football is basically a wargame - the fundamental idea is to "dominate the front line down in the trenches and gain ground" - but what I really hate is the way that football also trivializes the idea of combat, and contributes to thinking of war itself as a sport. Every war has casualties, no matter how safe or stylized we may try to make it. The problem is not that we need better equipment. The problem is fundamental to the nature of the activity itself.

For every kid who ever gets a chance to "play on Sundays" and pull down the big bucks (for an average of only 3 years), there are hundreds of thousands who play at the college, High School, and even pee-wee level, not to mention all the informal "sandlot" games that take place any time a handful of kids get together to toss around the pigskin. In 2006 there was one direct fatality related to football, and an additional 16 "indirect" deaths due to things like heat stroke or other heart-related problems, 4 of which were children as young as 11 and 12. Since 2001 there have been a total of 27 direct fatalities. Approximately 180,000 kids visit the emergency room each year with a football related injury. Statistically, 20% of the kids who participate in youth sports will suffer some sort of injury, and one in four will be considered "serious." That's an awful big price to pay just to give grown-ups an excuse to drink and gamble on Sunday afternoons.

Professional football in particular (and don't kid yourself: with the exception of the small detail that they don't actually bother to pay the players, NCAA Division I college football is "professional" in every sense of the word) is little more than a televised spectacle: 21st century America's answer to the gladiatorial contests of the Roman Collesium. It is an unapologetic celebration of competition itself; and what happens during the game is often only incidental to the real competitive struggle between big corporate organizations -- to acquire and train the right players, put in place the most effective coaching staff, develop the right "game plan," and (of course) "execute" that plan down on the field. And yet often the outcome of games often just boils down to which team can cause one of the opposition's key players to "go down" with an injury, and thus "knock them out of the game."

And then of course, there are the steroids.

I sure wish I could find in one convenient place reliable statistics of how many concussions, spinal cord injuries, torn ligiments, heat stroke episodes and the like actually occur over the course of a single football season. It seems like they keep track of everything else, so why can't I Google that? I would also like to know how many adults (like me) are still limping around decades later because of something that happened to them out on the gridiron. I think if we could just see this information, all laid out in black and white, we would be horrified. But enough of my rant. Let's just hope that Harvard beats Yale tomorrow....

Numba One Duck

2007-11-14T19:09:00.001-08:00

A picture is worth a thousand words, so I guess this one says it all. This is a very exciting week for Oregon football. Now let's just pray that they can win out....

I ain't up here ta' read!

2007-11-10T02:52:00.000-08:00

The other day I saw a link on another blog which allowed you to check the "reading level" of any particular blog against against the benchmarks educators use to evaluate the reading levels of their students. And since I now have eight different blogs I post to periodically, I figured I'd better test them all.

As one might have expected, most of my blogs (four out of the eight -- Rev Tim's (mostly) Annual Holiday Circular Letter, Hilsen fra Danmark, The Eclectic Cleric FRS and The Eclectic Cleric FPC) all tested out as "College: Undergraduate." My original The Eclectic Cleric blog only came in at High School reading level however, while for some inexplicable reason, the archive of sermons I preached on Nantucket (The Eclectic Cleric ACK) pulled down a "Genius" rating. No wonder they liked me there so much.

My mother's memoir, Betty Jo Remembers, (which also contains the texts of my younger brother Erik's eulogy and my memorial homily) was rated at "Jr High" reading level. But the blog I'm proudest of was this one right here. If you want to benefit from the wisdom of ol' Obi Wannabe Kobe here, all you need is an elementary school education!

About the title of this post: There's an annecdote about a young Henry Aaron, who came up to bat in the 1958 World Series with Yogi Berra catching behind the plate. Berra noticed that Aaron wasn't holding the bat with the trademark facing up (an indication that the grain of a wooden bat is properly aligned to hit the ball most effectively and prevent the bat from breaking), and pointed this out to the younger ballplayer.

"You'll want to hold the bat with the label up," Yogi said.

"Yogi," Hammerin' Hank replied, "I came up here to hit, not to read...."

(Aaron hit .333 in that Series, 9 for 27 with 2 doubles and 2 RBIs. And still the Damned Yankees came back from a 3-1 deficit to win the fall classic that year...again....)

I Miss the Curse

2007-10-29T16:43:00.000-07:00

I know can't be the only one who feels this way, but somehow it just seems like rooting for the Red Sox was so much more, well, virtuous, when you knew they were destined to break your heart.

I mean, I'm not even sure who these guys are any more. It's like rooting for the Yankees, only without the pinstripes. Even Rudy Giuliani has professed his loyalty to the Red Sox Nation. And only Captain Veritek (have you ever noticed how close his name is to Veritas?) still actually wears his Red Socks with pride.

I don't really care whether a little more hardware gets paraded through the streets of Boston; it's not as if Beantown Fans have ever needed much of an excuse to lift a bottle and conduct themselves in a disorderly manner. But where's the Character? Where's the True Faith? Where's the Eternally Hopeful "wait 'til next year?"

It used to be that the Boston Celtics were the franchise to be feared -- the Dynasty which gave that word its definition. The Bruins were the only American hockey team who could skate even up with the Canadiens (as in Canadiens de Montréal, imbécile), while the Patriots were pretty much the doormat of the NFL.

And the Red Sox?...well, the Red Sox were special. '67, '75, '86...call me crazy, but the Sox were much more inspiring to watch in glorious defeat than they were in this most recent roll-over victory over the once-hot Rockies, who had to cool their heels for a week a mile above sea-level while our boys finally found their bats and disposed of the Indians. As for the Fall Classic itself? Yawn. I could hardly stay awake past the 5th inning.

Nobody in the NFL can really touch the Pats these days. The Bruins...well, nobody really cares about hockey anymore anyway. And the poor Celtics are reduced to trying to buy another championship on the backs of aging and frustrated free agent superstars. But at Fenway they're talking dynasty. That's right, Dynasty. The whole world seems upside-down.

Don't get me wrong. '04 was wonderful, especially after coming back from 0-3 in the ALCS to sweep the Yankees (which was actually much sweeter than the Series itself). But in a perfect universe, '03 should have really been the year of the once-in-a-century match-up between the BoSox and the Cubbies. That Fall Classic would have truly marked the end of an era and the beginning of a New Age. And I'm still convinced that a lot more people would have tuned in to watch that "consolation" series than bothered to watch the teams that actually played that year. Who were they again? Maybe I'll look it up on Wikipedia...

I love Papi and Manny and all our guys; but I miss the Cowboy Up crowd, as well as all those other "shoulda beens" -- Space Man and Oil Can and El Tiante, Pudge, Dwight Evans, Fred Lynn, Jim Rice, Wade Boggs, Nomar, and, naturally, Yaz and Teddy Ballgame and all those other great players who lived and lost for so many decades in the shadow of the Green Monster and under the Curse of the Bambino.

And now those days are gone, and what do we have to replace them? Another stupid parade. I hate to say it, but I might actually have to move on and start rooting for the Cubs. Even if they have finally broken the faith and added lights at Wrigley Field....

Still looking for a game.

2007-10-24T04:28:00.000-07:00

I dunked the ball last night. Admittedly, it was on a seven-foot rim in an elementary school gym with nobody around, but at least at long last at the age of 51 I finally know what it feels like to throw one down. You wanna know something? It ain't as easy as it looks.

Showed up again last night at the open gym at the elementary school two blocks from my apartment hoping to get back into the routine of playing regularly, only to discover that it was just me and the gym supervisor. Shot around for about 45 minutes waiting for everyone else to show up, but when they finally did...well, lets just say it was just one other guy, who when he dribbled and shot with both hands really dribbled and shot with BOTH hands.... So this whole pick-up scene in here in my own neighborhood is really turning into a big disappointment. I may have to stray a little further afield before I find the game I'm looking for.

There's supposed to be a regular over-30 game Sunday afternoons over in South Portland, which is probably the one I'll check out next. And then there's always the "Y" and the college. I actually prefer to play with better, younger players...because even though I may not get that many touches myself, it gives me a chance to help their game by doing the "little things" I can still do well: screening out, setting picks, playing help defense, passing the ball, and getting back to defend against the fast break...and still getting a chance to down open "J's" when the ball comes back to me in rotation. What I hate is 1) playing with REALLY young guys who don't know what they're doing, and therefore can't appreciate what I can do to make them better; 2) playing with old guys who THINK they're still young guys, and; 3) playing with a bunch of old guys who all want to do the exact same things I do (although this probably the best of the three options I've just mentioned).

Anyway, this is getting to be a pretty long-winded post for someone who hasn't really played in a competitive game for over four months. And it shows too. Not to mention feeling it in my body. And who knows? Maybe at 51 it really is time to think about hanging them up....

Is it OK to try OJ again?

2007-10-12T05:43:00.000-07:00

For those of you who found this link thinking I was going to say something about Orenthal James Simpson, my apologies. Maybe some other time. Today, I'm just so thrilled about Al Gore's winning the Nobel Peace Prize that I have to post something about it. I've not had a sip of Florida Orange Juice since the 2000 election, but this is starting to feel like vindication. Not just for the former Next President of the United States. But for all of us who have known for the past seven years that if all the votes in Florida had been counted honestly back then, the world would be a much better place today.

One of the things I noticed during the Florida recount was that the two parties seemed to be living in different worlds. The Democrats realized that the underlying problem was that the margin of victory was less than the margin of error, and that in a real democracy the only viable solution to that problem is to increase the accuracy of the counting process. The Republicans seemed to think they were involved in some sort of sporting contest. They kept talking about how they'd "scored a touchdown" on election night, but the Democrats wanted to take it away...implying that according the moral paradigm of the playground, liberals are "poor sports" who always whine about a "do-over" when things don't go their way.

It was only Mr Gore's willingess to take the high road and throw in the towel following the Supreme Court's 5-4 decision against him (rather than taking the "game" into overtime in the Electoral College and the Congress, thus creating a potential Constitutional Crisis) that gave us the government we have today. Personally, I would have liked to have seen him play the game out to the end, which I believe would have resulted in a Bush Presidency, with Gore casting the deciding vote in the Senate to elect himself to one more term as VP. But instead he chose to step aside, grow a beard (for awhile at least) and return to private life.

And where has this all left us? Well, as promised the Bushies gave their big tax cuts to the rich (but are still dragging their feet on health insurance for poor children); were caught with their pants down on 9/11; started an endless war in Afghanistan and Iraq (and God only knows where next); condone torture (but not REAL torture); and have established a network secret (and not-so-secret) prisons all over the world just so they can not torture with impunity beyond the scrutiny of judicial review; while here at home they have spearheaded an assault on due process, habeus corpus, and the Bill of Rights. Not to mention the collapsing dollar, and, oh yes, the Katrina fiasco. America is now more despised and less respected around the world than it has been at any time in my lifetime. Our military is stretched to the breaking point, but military families can no longer afford to buy houses. And the real irony is that if things keep going the way they have, most of the Sunshine State will soon be underwater too. Just like New Orleans on 8/28.

Those of you who only know me as an aging jock and pick-up basketball maven may not have picked up on the fact that I also have a PhD in American history, so this next part may seem a little out of character. I know that the 2000 Presidential election wasn't the first stolen election this country has survived, and I'm cynical enough to realize that it probably won't be the last. But I don't necessarily think we should be proud of that. As for the open question of whether or not this Bush Presidency will prove the worst in two-hundred plus years of Constitutional government, all I can say is...we haven't seen who the country will elect in 2008 yet. But without question it belongs in the bottom five. Absolutely no doubt in my mind.

And to you Mr Gore, congratulations! Now, let's just see if we can save that frog....

California Nightmare

2007-10-01T06:22:00.000-07:00

OK, I know this is technically a basketball blog, but my poor Old Mothers really got their asses kicked this past weekend. Good thing I'm not a gambler, or I'd REALLY be hurting this morning.

Always expected the Beavers to get mauled by the Bruins, and was actually quite thrilled that my Dawgs could give the Trojans such a scare up there in Huskey Stadium...which made defeat all that more difficult to swallow following the sweet taste of what was shaping up to be just desserts.

But of course the real heartbreaker was in down in Eugene, with the Duck contrite on the sidelines as Dennis Dixon throws his first interception of the season deep in his own end (which led to an easy USC touchdown), and then Cameron Colvin fumbles the ball on the goal line with seconds left to play, turning what would have been a game-tying touchdown into a game-ending touchback instead. Ouch!

And even Harvard came up a touchdown short against Lehigh. So there's no joy in my house this morning. And my dreams of a sweet end-of-October matchup between an undefeated Oregon and an undefeated Southern Cal is now just a fading fantasy...

Bummer!

Maine Man (& the Morning After)

2007-09-26T09:13:00.000-07:00

And I really am getting too old for this shit. No, really. First night back in the gym -- new city, new season, new game...but only three of us showed up to start things out (which maybe wasn't such a bad thing after nearly three months without dribbling a ball or taking a shot). Ended up playing "21" against a couple of guys who, if you added their ages together, wouldn't be as old as me -- but it was OK: I scored my points, shot the three and drove to the hoop, played some token "D," and only hurt my back a little. But what the hell. It's a game, goddamnit; it's supposed to be fun! And it was. Sorta. Even if it is gonna hurt in the morning....

Morning? Hell. It hurts right now. But at least I didn't embarass myself, or collapse with a heart attack. So I guess it still qualifies as a good night.

Good night....

(The Morning After)

And my back is killing me. I've got NO business trying to take 20-somethings hard to the hole one-on-one off the dribble! My job these days on the basketball court is:

1) get back on "D"!

2) stay between your opponent and the basket on the perimeter, take away their best option, use your head and your feet, challenge every shot, and...

3) play good, alert "help" defense away from the ball.

4) Box out potential weakside offensive rebounders, and rebound what you can.

5) See the whole floor and make good, quick, crisp passes.

6) Set solid screens for your teammates.

7) Knock down open spot-up "J's" & "Treys."

8) OK, drive hard to the hoop at least once a night, just so they still have to respect that. But CHOOSE YOUR SPOT!

9) Clean up as much garbage as you can.

10) Be a calm, mature, stablizing leadership presence on the court (a true "Veteran").

And if I can just do those 10 simple things well, and stay reasonably healthy and injury free by playing often and playing within myself, there's no reason I can't KEEP playing this game for a long, long time....

It's Nothing Personal

2007-06-12T09:37:00.000-07:00

OK, the season really is winding down now -- one more game for me with these great guys I've played with for four years now, and at least two more for LeBron and the Caveliers...maybe more (although I doubt it). Still, they are at home now. And the 2-3-2 format really helps them out.

As for my own run, there were only eleven of us last night, and after a week away I pretty much played like crap. A few good defensive plays; for some reason I seemed to be able to get my hands in the passing lanes quite easily, and ended up with quite a few steals that way. But I only made one jump shot -- a beautiful in-rhythm transition "J" from the left elbow while trailing on the break which inspired all sorts of ooohs and ahhhhs...and then a few easy lay-ups, including one standing flat on both feet wide open right under the basket. But mostly I was shooting flat-footed, and couldn't finish at the hole, and generally waddled around most of the evening. Not exactly the sort of performance I want to remember.

Wednesday we will probably be lucky to get as many as eight, since it's also the night of the Town Meeting in Concord. My best friend in this group pulled a calf muscle last night, so he probably won't be back; probably the only guy I can really count on seeing is my adversary "Curly," whose mouth has gotten even more outrageous as the season draws to a close. Curly's the kind of guy who makes up in attitude what he lacks in skill, which in some ways is quite admirable...although I personally prefer to let my game do my talking for me. Just Old School that way I guess. But in fairness, two things I admire about him. 1) he's almost always the first guy to the gym, and the last to leave. 2) he's not afraid to take the big shot. In fact, he thrives on it.

Of course, he's all elbows when trying to make space, makes up for his lack of defensive mobility by reaching and grabbing HARD, but of course if you even breath on him when he's trying to shoot it's going to be "my ball." And I know I shouldn't taunt him...and generally I don't...much.... But what I really want to do on our last night together is give him a copy of the following, which I've compiled from the appropriate web-sites. Not that I think he'll actually read and learn. But just to tweek him, since I'm not going to be around any more to do it in person....

BASIC PRINCIPLES GOVERNING PERSONAL FOULS

CONTACT SITUATIONS

(1) Incidental Contact

a. The mere fact that contact occurs does not necessarily constitute a foul. Contact which is incidental to an effort by a player to play an opponent, reach a loose ball, or perform normal defensive or offensive movements, should not be considered illegal. If, however, a player attempts to play an opponent from a position where he has no reasonable chance to perform without making contact with his opponent, the responsibility is on the player in this position.

b. The hand is considered "part of the ball" when it is in contact with the ball. Therefore, contact on that hand by a defender while it is in contact with the ball is not illegal.

(2) Guarding an Opponent

In all guarding situations, a player is entitled to any spot on the court he desires, provided he gets to that spot first without contact with an opponent. In all guarding situations during a live ball, a player is entitled to any spot on the court he desires, provided that he gets to the spot first without contact with an opponent. In all guarding situations during a dead ball, the defensive player(s) must be allowed to take a position between his man and the basket.

a. In most guarding situations, the guard must be facing his opponent at the moment he assumes a guarding position after which no particular facing is required.

b. A player may continue to move after gaining a guarding position in the path of an opponent provided he is not moving directly or obliquely toward his opponent when contact occurs. A player is never permitted to move into the path of an opponent after the opponent has jumped into the air.

c. A player who extends an arm, shoulder, hip or leg into the path of an opponent and thereby causes contact is not considered to have a legal position in the path of an opponent.

d. A player is entitled to an erect (vertical) position even to the extent of holding his arms above his shoulders, as in post play or when double-teaming in pressing tactics.

e. A player is not required to maintain any specific distance from an opponent.

f. Any player who conforms to the above is absolved from responsibility for any contact by an opponent which may dislodge or tend to dislodge such player from the position which he has attained and is maintaining legally. If contact occurs, the official must decide whether the contact is incidental or a foul has been committed.

The following are the usual situations to which the foregoing principles apply:

a. Guarding a player with the ball

b. Guarding a player who is trying for a goal

c. Switching to a player with the ball

d. Guarding a dribbler

e. Guarding a player without the ball

f. Guarding a post player with or without the ball

g. Guarding a rebounder

(3) Screening When a player screens in front of or at the side of a stationary opponent, he may be as close as he desires providing he does not make contact. His opponent can see him and, therefore, is expected to detour around the screen. If he screens behind a stationary opponent, the opponent must be able to take a normal step backward without contact. Because the opponent is not expected to see a screener behind him, the player screened is given latitude of movement. To screen a moving opponent, the player must stop soon enough to permit his opponent to stop or change direction. The distance between the player screening and his opponent will depend upon the speed at which the players are moving. If two opponents are moving in the same direction and path, the player who is behind is responsible for contact. The player in front may stop or slow his pace, but he may not move backward or sideward into his opponent. The player in front may or may not have the ball. This situation assumes the two players have been moving in identically the same direction and path before contact.

(4) The Dribble If the dribbler's path is blocked, he is expected to pass or shoot; that is, he should not try to dribble by an opponent unless there is a reasonable chance of getting by without contact.

FIELD GOAL ATTEMPT

A player is attempting a field goal when he has the ball and is (in the judgment of the official) in the act of shooting or trying to attempt to shoot. It is not essential that the ball leave the shooter's hand. His arm(s) might be held so that he cannot actually make an attempt. He is thus deprived of an opportunity to score and is entitled to two free throw attempts. If a player is fouled when tapping a tossed ball or a rebound toward or into the basket, he is not considered to be "trying for goal." If a live ball is in flight when time expires, the goal, if made, shall count.

CHARGING/BLOCKING

A defensive player shall not be permitted to move into the path of an offensive player once he has picked up the ball in an effort to either pass or shoot. If contact occurs on this play, and it is anything but negligible and/or incidental, a blocking foul shall be called on the defensive player. Any field goal attempt, if successful, shall count, as long as the ball has not been returned to the floor following the official's whistle. If a defensive player acquires a position directly under the basket/backboard on anything but a "baseline drive," he shall be responsible if contact occurs. An offensive foul should never be called under these conditions. The offensive player remains a shooter until he has regained a normal playing position on the floor. Many times this type of play is allowed to continue if the goal is successful. The opposite is also true. If an offensive player causes contact with a defensive player who has established a legal position prior to the offensive player having picked up the ball in an effort to either pass or shoot, and it is anything but negligible and/or incidental, an offensive foul shall be called, and no points may be scored. A defensive player may turn slightly to protect himself, but is never allowed to bend over and submarine an opponent. On a "drive-in" shot, if the defensive player has established a legal position in front of the basket/ backboard, the offensive player shall be responsible for any illegal contact which occurs prior to his having regained his balance on the floor. An offensive foul shall be called and no points are to be awarded if the field goal is successful. The mere fact that contact occurs on these types of plays, or any other similar play, does not necessarily mean that a personal foul has been committed. The officials must decide whether the contact is negligible and/or incidental, judging each situation separately. in judging this play, the officials must be aware that if EITHER player has been placed at a disadvantage by the contact which has occurred, then a personal foul MUST be called on the player responsible for that contact.

Personal Fouls --NCAA

Section 20. By Players

Art. 1. A player shall not hold, push, charge, trip or impede the progress of an opponent by extending arm(s), shoulder(s), hip(s) or knee(s) or by bending his or her own body into other than a normal position; nor use any unreasonably rough tactics.

Art. 2. A player shall not contact an opponent with his or her hand unless
such contact is only with the opponent’s hand while it is on the ball and is
incidental to an attempt to play the ball.

Art. 3. A player shall not use his or her hand(s) on an opponent to inhibit
the freedom of movement of the opponent in any way or to aid an opponent in starting or stopping.

Art. 4. A player shall not extend the arm(s) fully or partially other than vertically so that freedom of movement of an opponent is hindered when contact with the arm(s) occurs.

Art. 5. A player shall not use the forearm and hand to prevent an opponent from attacking the ball during a dribble or when trying for goal.

Art. 6. A player may hold his or her hand(s) and arm(s) in front of his or her own face or body for protection and to absorb force from an imminent charge by an opponent.

Art. 7. Contact caused by a defensive player approaching the player with
the ball from behind is pushing; contact caused by the momentum of a
player who has tried for goal is charging.

Section 21. By Dribbler

Art. 1. A dribbler shall neither charge into nor contact an opponent in the
dribbler’s path nor attempt to dribble between two opponents or between
an opponent and a boundary, unless the space is sufficient to provide a reasonable chance for the dribbler to pass through without contact.

Art. 2. When a dribbler, without contact, passes an opponent sufficiently to have head and shoulders beyond the front of the opponent’s torso, the
greater responsibility for subsequent contact shall be that of the opponent.

Art. 3. When a dribbler has obtained a straight-line path, the dribbler may
not be crowded out of that path; when an opponent is able to legally obtain a defensive position in that path, the dribbler shall avoid contact by changing direction or ending the dribble.

A.R. 21. A player who is guarding moves into the path of a dribbler and contact occurs.

RULING: Either player may be responsible, but the greater responsibility shall be that of the dribbler when the player who is guarding conforms to the following principles that officials shall use in reaching a decision. The defensive player shall be assumed to have attained a guarding position when the defensive player is in the dribbler’s path facing him or her. When the defensive player jumps into position, both feet must return to the floor after the jump before he or she can have a guarding position. No specific stance or distance shall be required. The guard may shift to maintain his or her position in the path of the dribbler, provided that the player who is guarding does not charge into the dribbler nor otherwise cause contact as outlined in this section. The responsibility of the dribbler for contact shall not shift merely because the player who is guarding turns or ducks to absorb shock when contact caused by the dribbler is imminent. The player who is guarding shall not cause contact by moving under or in front of a passer or thrower after the passer or thrower is in the air with his or her feet off the floor.

Art. 4. The player intending to become the dribbler shall not be permitted
additional rights to start a dribble or in executing a jump try for goal, pivot
or feint.

Section 22. By Screener

Art. 1. A player shall not cause contact by setting a screen outside the
visual field of a stationary opponent that does not allow this opponent a
normal step to move.

Art. 2. A screener shall not make contact with the opponent when setting
a screen within the visual field of that opponent.

Art. 3. A screener shall not take a position so close to a moving opponent
that this opponent cannot avoid contact by stopping or changing direction.

A.R. 22.B1 maneuvers to a position in front of offensive post player A1 to prevent A1 from receiving the ball. A high pass is made out of the reach of B1. The offensive post player A1 moves toward the basket to catch the pass and try for goal. As the pass is made, B2 moves into the path of A1, in a guarding position.

RULING: This action involves a screening principle. B2 has switched to guard a player who does not have the ball; therefore, the switching player shall assume a position one or two strides in advance of offensive post player A1 (depending upon the speed of movement of A1) to make the action legal. When A1 has control of the ball (provided that the offensive post player A1 is not in the air at the time), the play shall become a guarding situation. When it is a guarding situation involving the player with the ball, time and distance shall be irrelevant.

Art. 4. No player, while moving, shall set a screen that causes contact or
delays an opponent from reaching a desired position.

Art. 5. When both opponents are moving in exactly the same path and
direction and the screener slows down or stops and contact results, the
trailing player shall be responsible for such contact.

Art. 6. No player shall use arm(s), hand(s), hip(s) or shoulder(s) to force
through a screen or to hold or push the screener.

Art. 7. Screeners shall not line up next to each other within 6 feet of a
boundary line and parallel to it so that contact occurs. a. Screeners shall be permitted to line up parallel to a boundary line and next to each other without locking arms or grasping each other, provided that the screen is set at least 6 feet from that boundary line.

Personal Fouls - NBA

Section I-Types

a. A player shall not hold, push, charge into or impede the progress of an opponent by extending an arm, leg or knee or by bending the body into a position that is not normal.

b. Contact caused by a defensive player approaching the ball holder from the rear is a form of pushing or holding.

c. Two free throw attempts are awarded for an elbow foul. It is also an unsportsmanlike act. If the elbow contact is above shoulder level, the player will be ejected. If the elbow contact is shoulder level or below, the player may be ejected at the discretion of the official. Contact must occur for an elbow foul to be called.

d. A defensive player is not permitted to retain hand contact with an offensive player when the player is in his "sights." Hand checking will be eliminated by rigid enforcement of this rule by all officials. The illegal use of hands will not be permitted.

e. Any player whose actions against an opponent cause illegal contact with yet another offensive player is guilty of a personal foul and will be penalized accordingly.

f. Contact which occurs on the shooting hand of the offensive player, while that hand is in contact with the ball, is not illegal.

Section II-By Dribbler

a. A dribbler shall not (1) charge into an opponent who has established a legal guarding position or (2) attempt to dribble between two opponents, or between an opponent and a boundary, where sufficient space is not available for contact to be avoided.

b. If a dribbler has sufficient space between two opponents, or between an opponent and a boundary, to have his head and shoulders in advance of them, the responsibility for illegal contact is on the opponent.

c. If a dribbler in his progress has established a straight line path, he may not be crowded out of that path.

d. If an opponent is able to establish a legal defensive position in that path, the dribbler must avoid contact by changing his direction or ending his dribble.

e. The dribbler must be in control of his body at all times.

f. A dribbler may not legally dribble again after a personal foul has been called.

Section III-By Screening

A player who sets a screen shall not (1) take a position closer than a normal step from an opponent, if that opponent is stationary and unaware of the screener's position, (2) make illegal contact with an opponent when he assumes a position at the side or front of an opponent, (3) take a position so close to a moving opponent that illegal contact cannot be avoided by that opponent without changing direction or stopping, or (4) move laterally or toward an opponent being screened after having assumed a legal screening position. The screener may move in the same direction and path of the opponent being screened. In (3) above, the speed of the opponent being screened will determine what the screener's stationary position may be. This position will vary and may be one to two normal steps or strides from his opponent.

Bill James' All-Time All-Star Line-Up....

2007-06-11T08:47:00.000-07:00

OK, I know this is supposed to be a basketball blog...but I was watching a program about the Bill James baseball abstract the other day, and it got me thinking. Here is his line-up of the nine best baseball players of all time (although the batting order is mine):

CF - Willie Mays
2B - Joe Morgan
RF - Babe Ruth
LF - Ted Williams
1B - Lou Gehrig
3B - Mike Schmidt
SS - Honus Wagner
C - Yogi Berra
P - Roger Clemens

Hard to find much to argue with about that starting nine. But then I started thinking, who would I want on the bench? Here are my personal picks:

Outfielders: Ty Cobb, Henry Aaron, Barry Bonds.

OK, I admit...there are lots of others to choose from who didn't juice, even if I arbitrarily eliminate anyone who has ever played for the Yankees. But these are the guys I would want backing up Ruth, Williams, and Mays. In fact, with bats like these available, I might even be tempted to platoon.

Infielders: Alex Rodriguez, Ozzie Smith.

A-Rod gets a pass on his current team affiliation because he started his career with the Mariners. And I confess, "the Wizard of Oz" is no doubt a very idiosyncratic choice. But I'm captivated by his speed on the basepaths and what he can do with a glove. And frankly, I just love to watch him play.

Catchers: Johnny Bench, Josh Gibson.

Even Bill James will tell you that Josh Gibson was probably the best catcher ever to play the game. But since the Negro League statistics were so haphazard, James doesn't have the data to compare him to his Major League contemporaries. Fortunately, I don't have to worry about that restriction....

In the Bullpen: And this is the trickiest part of all. So many good pitchers to pick from. But here are my tentative choices (recognizing that I'm a little heavy on RHPs).

Walter Johnson
Sandy Koufax
Bob Gibson
Nolan Ryan
Robert Leroy "Sachel" Paige
Randy Johnson
Juan Marichal
Greg Maddox

And now for The Closer. And this is truly a tough call. I mean, with pitchers like these others available, do I really even NEED a Closer? Maybe one of these other guys could be pressed into the role. Can you imagine how overwhelming someone like Koufax or Gibson (not to mention my matched set of Johnsons) might have been if they only had to pitch one inning a night?

Likewise, there are so many other great pitchers out there. Oldtimers like Cy Young or Bob Feller, Lefty Grove, Warren Spahn, Dizzy Dean, and Mordecai "Three Fingers" Brown. Household names like Tom Seaver or Jim Palmer. Or even someone like Pedro Martinez, or perhaps another of my sentimental favorites, say junkball pitcher Gaylord Perry or Bill "Spaceman" Lee....

But to be fair, if I had to chose a real Closer, it would have to be Mariano "The Sandman" Rivera. And I hate to do it, because lets face it, he plays in pinstripes. But hands down he is unquestionably the best there's ever been in the bottom of the ninth. Which simply makes it all the more painful....

Hoopin' It Up Outside the Oval Office?

2007-06-01T04:17:00.000-07:00

And I'm not really sure how long this link will stay live, but if you find it in time click and enjoy. "NY Times June 1st 2007" Don't forget the video!

Camping in the Lane

2007-05-31T07:00:00.000-07:00

Back on the floor again last night, after a full week's rest thanks to the Memorial Day holiday. And ordinarily it would have been the last night of our "season," but a dozen or so of us have signed on to play for another month, so I've still got a few more runs to look forward to with these guys, although personally I will only be able to play until the 13th. In any event, showed up rested, had a chance to stretch, and was even shooting the ball pretty well during the warm-up which made me feel a lot better about looking for my shot a little more once we started to play. And I got in with a good group of guys as well, and we were pretty much able to keep our core group of four together all night long, losing only once. What made us so effective? Well, we had some good athletes...but not TOO many guys who had to have the ball -- instead, a nice combination of inside/outside and slashing to the basket on offense, quick ball movement, and very effective team defense...good help both on and off the ball, good communication, effective "trap-and-gap" doubleteams, and hands in the passing lanes. It just felt good. Lots of fun too.

I know I did a lot to help set the tone on defense -- got an early steal out on the open floor, and then in the half court was showing out over the tops of screens on our pick and roll defense, letting my teammates slip under the screen and recover rather than automatically switching everything...and then getting down on the helpside baseline to rebound and cut off the easy pass across the lane, but still rotating back out to the shooters when the ball kicked back out. And so as a team we were able to create a lot of turnovers and prevent second shots...which in turn lead to some easy baskets for us on the other end.

Favorite plays of the night. Got switched on to a much bigger and stronger player who wanted to post me up in the lane, but kept good position and then took the ball away from him when he tried to spin on me. Then leading a two-on-one break in the open floor, made a good ball fake, turned the defender completely around, and finished myself with an easy finger roll. Knocked down a wide-open three to start a game, then made an amazing (and truly lucky) left baseline drive under-the-basket reverse no-backboard lay-up (did you get all that?) which had everyone in the gym just shaking their heads and muttering about the power of prayer. Followed that with two easy assists and suddenly my team is up 9-2 after only four possesssions. Got a couple more lay-ups cutting to the front of the rim when my opponent left me to trap, which also helped inspire one of my (ordinarily) perimeter teammates to start doing the same, which lead to some easy baskets for him as well, and some easy victories for our team. Textbook BAFFLE -- we balanced the floor, attacked the basket, filled back to the ball, faked, looked for our open teammates, and executed the extra pass to earn some easy scores.

Unfortunately, I also missed some easy jump shots which really should have been automatic, as well as what would have been a very smooth and easy left-handed lay-up finishing as the trailer on a 3-on-2 break because I simply took my eye off the basket. Took my eye off the ball another time when I saw I had a teammate streaking down the other side of the floor and wanted to make a dramatic assist...and instead fumbled the ball and ended up throwing it at his feet instead. But all in all, a very satisfying night, which left me feeling young again.

One kind of sour note had to do with a lame attempt to enforce the "three-second" rule against a player who likes to camp out under the basket. This is one of those violations (like "over-and-back") which generally gets ignored in most pick-up games, or else enforced by more subtle means. I generally start out by saying something snarky (like "do you have a lease for this neighborhood?"), which I may follow up on by either physically moving my opponent OUT of the lane with a steady push in the back or (if he's too big to move that way) getting a good handful of his shirt...or better yet, the back of his shorts. Nothing rough or hard. Just enough to let him know that I'm not going to let him take advantage of violating the rules without violating a few myself. But counting out seconds ("one-one thousand, two-one thousand") or (God forbid!) actually calling a violation and attempting to take possession of the ball... well, it's just bad form in my book. Even out here in the affluent suburbs of Boston, in a gym full of lawyers.

In the small world department, I also learned last night that long-time Atlantic Monthly Fiction Editor Michael Curtis used to play in this game until about five or six years ago...which was just before I started to play there myself. Mike rejected the first short story I ever attempted to publish (with what was really a very encouraging personal letter, along with an invitation to submit more of my work)...but that was all I needed to decide that I would really be much better off preaching for a living instead of trying to write for magazines...and the rest eventually led to a PhD in history.... Still, it would have been fun to meet him out on the court (where potentially I could have had the chance to reject HIM!) -- so Mike, if you're reading this, we're still looking for a few more players for June. Although (doing the math) I see you must be in your seventies now. Still, you inspire me...I hope I can keep playing this game for as long as you did.

I also know that one of the reasons that I was playing with so much intensity had to do with NOT wanting to be thinking about my mom, who is also in her seventies and now in the hospital on the West Coast with a recurrence of her breast cancer. We all know this cancer is going to kill her eventually (that is, if something else doesn't kill her first); but whether it's a matter of months, a matter of weeks, or even a year or two remains to be seen. So, it was nice to be able to think about something else for a few hours -- or, more accurately, not to have to think about anything at all except passing and cutting and playing good "D." And to continue that distraction by writing about it all this morning.... Whaddya mean, Three Seconds? What kind of bullshit call is that?

Lottery Winners & Losers

2007-05-24T06:48:00.000-07:00

As someone who was born and raised in Seattle, and lived 14 years in Portland Oregon, it's hard for me to feel TOO disappointed about the results of the NBA draft lottery, notwithstanding the fact that here in the Hub of the Universe, the Celtics were completely hosed by the Goddess of Chance. Fortuna you whore! -- and where was Lucky the Leprachan when we needed him?

My own game last night was a little underwhelming. Fourteen of us in all, but at the end of the evening we had to beg guys to stay just to squeeze in one last run. Got to the gym about 45 minutes early, just to warm up thoroughly and stretch for a change; and for a time I had the place all to myself, until my rival "Curly" showed up. He's typically an early-bird, and I think it bothered him a little to find me there ahead of him. Not that it mattered. Seemed like I hardly touched the ball last night. Missed a coupled of fairly easy shots early on, and...well, let's see. Did score on a very impressive driving floater in the lane, and also made a very nice steal coming up along the baseline on the blindside of an opponent who was trying to back-down one of my teammates on the low block -- but for most of the evening it just didn't seem like I was even part of the action. And despite my extra warm-up time, never did really find a good rhythm or become part of flow of the action.

Meanwhile, I'm reflecting back on the four years I've spent playing with these guys, now that I'm down to the last handful of Monday and Wednesday evenings. We won't play on Memorial Day, which means that unless there's significant interest to extend into June, my last run with these guys will be next Wednesday. And then this blog will become mostly about television, at least until I find a new game up in Portland.

I'm also trying to figure out why I dislike Curly so, and why the feeling seems to be mutual. Is it just that I know he doesn't like me? Or maybe vice versa. I know from my perspective, Curly is someone with a lot of attitude and not many skills...a player for whom "the hand is part of the ball" seems to mean that if you touch the ball while it's in his hands, it's a foul; and whose mouth is always moving faster than his feet. Plus he always seems to me just a little too eager to look for his own shot, which means that if you pass him the ball you aren't too likely to see it again...unless you rebound the miss, of course. Still, his game has improved a lot in the time I've known him -- he's always at the gym early, and always among the last to leave, always trying to stay on the floor when the team coming on is short a few players, and certainly not afraid to step up to a defensive challenge (even though he can rarely manage to guard his man), or to take the last shot. He takes a lot of shots, which means he also scores more than his fair share of points...and he's also learned how to pass out of a double-team, which has made him a lot more effective on the offensive end. And last night I actually saw him reverse the ball by making an extra pass!

Still, I wonder what MY game would look like if I had as much attitude as Curly. Probably couldn't hurt for me to accept more challenging defensive assignments, for instance...or to call for the ball a little more assertively. I could also probably stand to look for my own shot a little more often, or at least to try to create a little more off the dribble...although generally there are plenty of guys out there who are willing to do that, and not nearly so many who pass as well (or as often) as I do. And I could certainly benefit from working a little hard (actually, a LOT harder) by getting to the gym early, and working out on the "off" days too. I'm especially missing the strength training to go with the time I spend running (well, limping) up and down the court two nights a week. And I would be a much happier player if I were just 30 lbs lighter...which I suspect is much more "do-able" than becoming six inches taller. Or twenty-five years younger....

I think the hardest adjustment though has been the realization that I CAN'T really keep up with a lot of these younger guys any more...or even guys my own age who actually take care of their bodies. Feels like all too often I'm just a step slow to the loose ball, or can't quite get off the ground high enough or quickly enough to bother an opponent's shot or snatch that long rebound. And so I'm also starting to wonder just how much longer I want to try to keep playing this game...and whether it may well be time to hang up my kicks and grab the golf clubs, or maybe just start swimming, riding my bike, and working out for 45 minutes every day in the weightroom, alternating upper and lower body training. Yeah, Yeah, Yeah. It would be easy enough to do. But not nearly so easy as just talking about it....

Sweating the Rust Out

2007-05-22T06:01:00.000-07:00

Oh Lord. Away from the gym for almost two weeks (and nearly slept through last night's run as well -- after trying to slip in a quick nap after the drive home from my sucessful eleven-day job interview in Maine); arrived just in time to become the tenth player, which meant minimal warm-up time and no shots at the basket. And I started out TERRIBLY -- made an ugly turnover, and couldn't follow my man through a baseline screen...made all the more annoying because I had to listen to "Curly" carp about it in his inimitable way. But it got a little easier after I loosened up a bit: made several VERY nice assists that resulted in ridiculously easy baskets for my teammates (and had the added benefit of making Curly look stupid, beaten and confused as well), and knocked down a medium range "J" from the foul line area and a little jump hook right in front of the basket as well...both from extra passes when one of my teammates drew a double-team. Never did find my regular shooting touch from beyone the arc though, but since it's been missing in action for months now, I didn't really miss it much either. And mostly it felt great just to get out and run again.

Meanwhile, did check out a couple of gyms Down East -- the Portland YMCA and the South Portland Rec Center (where there is a regular Sunday afternoon over-30 run). And I'm sure I've just scratched the surface of what I hope is a pretty dynamic local pick-up hoop scene. Lots of playgound ball too this time of year, and there seem to be courts everywhere. New job is right behind Portland High School, and just one block from the Boys and Girls Club...so I may even have to think about trying my hand at coaching again. But it's also a lot "younger" community in general than way out here in the 'burbs -- which means that I'm probably going to have my hands full trying to keep up. But what the hell. It's only a game, right?

I will miss my friends here in Massachusetts though. I've been playing with these same guys for almost four years now, and in all that time I've gotten to know them pretty well. And, so far as I can tell, there is nothing in Portland to match the Boston Sports Club in Waltham, which is where I go to work out and shoot around. I'm REALLY going to miss that gym, and expecially the sauna and jacuzzi there. But I still have another month before I go. So I guess I'd better get my money's worth while I can....

Two Champions; Two Also-Rans

2007-05-19T07:59:00.000-07:00

So, finally we're down to just four teams -- Detroit and Cleveland in the East, San Antonio and Salt Lake in the West -- and the first team to eight wins the trophy. Both the Pistons and the Spurs have been there before (at least in this century) and won it all, while their respective challengers each have a lot to prove. For Cleveland it's all about LeBron -- whether he truly has that competetive desire and the heart of a champion that can take his team to the next level. Or at least that's how the Shoe Company wants to frame it. For the Jazz, it's all about Jerry Sloan -- who has literally given his entire life to the game, and in many ways is a perenial "also-ran" -- having never won an NBA Championship, despite being second or third on so many all time coaching lists -- most wins, most winning seasons, most winning seasons with the same franchise, etc. etc. etc. Got to the Finals twice a decade ago with Stockton and Malone. Now he's hoping to do it again with Carlos Boozer and Deron Williams. But to tell the truth, I just don't see them getting past the Spurs and Gregg Popovich.

The Spurs already have three championships under their belts, and are to my mind the most solid team in the league right now. Detroit is another solid and proven squad...missing Big Ben Wallace in the middle, but adding Chris Webber to the mix...past his prime, but still a helluva baller. Tthe main thing missing from the Detroit bench is Larry Brown -- a true "apostle" of the game, whose coach and mentor Dean Smith (at North Carolina) was coached by Phog Allen (at Kansas) who in turn was coached by Dr Naismith himself. It's hard to find a better pedigree than that! The Pistons in turn are a proud franchise playing for a dying town -- they go back to the earliest days of the league, and have a hardnosed, working class "bad boy" attitude to match. Meanwhile, the Spurs are the only former ABA franchise to have ever one a championship -- their roster is very international, and they can both beat you up or run you out of the gym. I kinda like the Spurs to win it all. But first they need to get by the Jazz. And whoever comes out of the East....

Requium for the Warriors

2007-05-16T11:49:00.000-07:00

Tuned in for the tip-off of the Warriors/Jazz game last night, and was SO pleased to see the energy with which Golden State was playing in the first quarter...but unfortunately, living here on the east coast, I just couldn't keep my eyes open after a long day at the office, and so I dozed off only to wake up halfway through the fourth quarter with the score almost tied, and just in time to watch the Jazz score the last dozen points of the game and win the series running away. So, now let's see what happens tonight between Phoenix and San Antonio. Slept through that little dust-up two nights ago as well, and I had to settle for the replays instead. And I've always seen Robert Horry as such a NICE guy. Thought he liked to let his game do his talking for him, and never dreamed he could be such a ruffian. But at least he'll be well rested for Game Seven if they need him. Or for the start of the series with the Jazz....

Too Much Boozer

2007-05-14T02:52:00.000-07:00

And my real regret after watching last night's game is this: Why isn't Derek Fisher still a Warrior? Yes, I know you have to give up talent in order to get talent, and yes I understand that the Warriors are already quite deep at the guard position, and that a franchise needs a good balance between experience and youth. But still -- I watch him play, and I feel like he's wearing the wrong uniform.

As sad as I am to say it, I think the Warriors are just about finished in this series. They will go down fighting; they may even be able to extend it to Game Seven. Hell, they may still even pull off a miracle and advance -- that's how the Red Sox did it, remember? But I also feel like the Warriors are starting to crack a little here under the pressure. The unnecessary hard fouls (Baron's transition elbow to Derek, which put him on the floor and will probably result in a fine...although to Baron's credit it already has lead to a personal apology, right there on the floor) was especially painful to watch. And last night in the fourth quarter, for whatever reason, they just couldn't get it done. That should have been THEIR time, in THEIR house. And instead the Jazz scored 40 points, and left the Warriors looking angry, demoralized, and....well, beaten.

The Warriors are still a player or two away from being legitimate contenders. Jackson, Richardson and Davis are all exciting to watch, and they play with a playground intensity too, which for good or ill is what gives the Warriors their heart. Andris Biedrins is a joy to watch, and I'm sure his free throw shooting will improve with coaching. Al Harrington and Matt Barnes, along with Mickael Pietrus are all fine players -- but they're also all a little undersized to match up with someone like Carlos Boozer, and this series has really shown it. And Monta Ellis? Well, he's fine for a rookie (although I guess technically this is actually his second year), but let's face it. At playoff time, wouldn't you much rather see Derek Fisher in that uniform?

Points 120 & 121

2007-05-11T20:34:00.000-07:00

Just watched Baron Davis throw down with authority on AK 47 -- a SportsCenter dunk and well worth the subsequent "T" A facial AND a spanking, and now an ovation as well as Game Three heads into garbage time. God I love to watch these Warriors! Can't wait to watch Game Four....

Game Two's overtime finish was another one for the ages. Derek Fisher's dramatic third quarter arrival, and his key defensive play, three missed free throws by the Warriors which let the game slip into OT, and then Harper's dagger from the corner...reportedly the first time he'd shot a basketball in four days. A nice touch of pathos and camaradrie between former teammates as well, as the Warriors greeted Fisher after the game, apparently to express their concern about his daughter. Dee Brown's dramatic injury, which forced him to leave the game after one of his own teammates fell on him, was almost overshadowed by Fisher's heroics. But the Jazz sure missed their rookie guard tonight, as once again the Warrior's backcourt basically overwhelmed the Utah ballhandlers.

The Warriors also seem to have a better handle on the boards as well, although the Jazz still outrebounded them over all. But Carlos Boozer was held to half of what he's been pulling down of late, while my Latvian import Andris Biedrins grabbed 13...basically all those boards Boozer DIDN'T get on the offensive end! Let's hope he can keep that up for Game Four as well, and then take it with him on the road back to Salt Lake.

Shoot-out on the shores of the Great Salt Lake

2007-05-08T03:40:00.000-07:00

Stayed up well past my bedtime last night to watch the first game of the Warriors/Jazz series, and even though I didn't see the outcome I was hoping for, I sure don't have any disappointments about the game itself. It's fun to watch these guys run the floor so hard, and I'm especially impressed by the way that Utah came out of the blocks early to demonstrate to the Warriors that they could run right with them. And thrilled to watch the Warriors run it right back at them and eventually grab the lead, only to have the home team rally in the final quarter, and hold on to victory by a handful of free throws. This time.

The Jazz basically won this game on the boards. Deron Williams and Carlos Boozer are not exactly Stockton and Malone (not that we saw that much of Utah's half-court offense anyway), but the Warriors don't really have anyone who can match up effectively underneath with the Alaskan Blue Devil, and Boozer took advantage of that by ripping down 20 rebounds (half of them on the offensive end) to go with his 17 points. And Deron Williams matched up with Baron Davis practically bucket for bucket and foul for foul: 41 minutes, 31 points, 8 assists, 6 turnovers, but also 5 rebounds and 2 steals, as compared to Baron's line of 24 points and 7 assists, 3 rebounds, 3 turnovers, a steal and 2 blocked shots in 38 minutes.

But the match-up I really enjoyed watching most was Kirilenko against Biedrins (or as I like to think of it, Andrei verses Andris). It's a 21-year-old Latvian (Biedrins) matched up against a 26-year-old Russian (Kirilenko) and there sure doesn't seem to be any love lost between them! Kirilenko is probably the better player (or at least he was last night: 13 points, 7 rebounds and 7 blocked shots), but the Warriors count on Biedrins to run the floor alongside all their other thoroughbreds, and at 6' 11" he's about as big as Golden State gets.

It's going to be interesting to see what kind of adjustments these two fine coaches make for Game Two. If the Jazz prove that they can run with the Warriors, and continue to dominate them on the boards, they are going to be able to take care of business in relatively short order. But if the Warriors can find a way to keep Boozer and Company off the glass, and keep taking the ball hard to the hole instead of just living or dying beyond the arc, they should give Utah all they can handle. And then there is Utah's trademark half-court offense. Will the Jazz go back to that in Game Two, and try to force the Warriors to play at their tempo? We're just one game in, and the home team has won on their own floor. This series is just getting started!

***

One of the nice things about these late, West Coast starts is that they give me plenty of opportunity to get home in time for tip-off after first playing a couple of hours in my own regular Monday night pick-up game. Only scored one basket last night, but it was a beauty -- off the dribble, beating my oponent by going left from the left wing in transition, before the rest of the defense was really back. Blew by him just like I was Baron Davis, and got right to the rim almost as if I still had that lighting quick first step of old...or should I say, of younger days.... Once a year. Just to prove to myself (and anybody else who happens to be watching) that I've still got what it takes to elevate and go hard to the hole.

Mostly though it was trying to defend and banging on the boards with the big guys. It's hard to believe that I'm down now to just a handful of more games with these guys that I've been playing with now for four years. I'm going to miss them. Big Time.

Blowing the Whistle on Black or White

2007-05-04T08:14:00.000-07:00

Just heard an NPR interview with a rather indignant David Stern, regarding an article by a Wharton School economics professor and a Cornell graduate student which claims that white referees are tougher on black players than they are on players of their own race, and that this same bias exhibits itself as well when the roles are reversed. The article has yet to be presented or peer reviewed, and from where I sit the statistical significance seems marginal at best, while there are all sorts of problems with the methodology. Meanwhile, Stern's argument that NBA officials are the most closely reviewed and highly-rated officials anywhere in organized sport is very compelling, but he misses the main point that this study isn't really about basketball at all, but about racism in general. My own suspicion is that if the researchers had looked at many other aspects of American society, they would have found an even more profound race-related statistical bias.

But let me back up and try to unpack this whole issue from the ground up. And let's begin with the clear understanding that "race" itself is simply a fiction: a socially-constructed perception based on archaic Victorian notions of biological essentialism which have long ago been refuted by better science. Human beings are only half-a-chromosome removed from chimpanzees; the idea that there are distinct "races" (other than "human") rooted in some sort of innate biological difference is simply absurd.

But Racism -- the ideology that these so-called racial differences actually do exist, and that they matter -- is very real, and influences our society and our individual lives in ways that are sometimes difficult to see and understand, and at other times painfully obvious and hard to bear. Furthermore, skin color has in many ways become a perceived marker of social class in contemporary America, which in turn has helped create a self-fulfilling reality, as our nation struggles to untangle and heal from the legacy of centuries worth of slavery and subsequent economic exploitation, political oppression, and systematic violent repression. We've made a lot of progress just in my lifetime. But we still have a long way to go.

I also suspect that there may well be some sort of innate nepotism and xenophobia hard-wired into our brains. It seems logical to me that any creature might instinctively tend to favor other creatures which resemble its own offspring, and be suspicious of those which seem different or unfamiliar. But this "bird-brain" prejudice can be "unlearned" through experience, and the recognition (if you will allow me a religious metaphor) that we are ALL children of God, and brothers and sisters to one another.

it likewise seems obvious to me that organized sport -- and especially a sport like basketball -- is one of the few places in our society where the fiction of race is exposed for what it is, and where human beings from every imaginable ethnic and cultural background can come together to cooperate and compete in an arena where the only variables that ultimately matter are physical talent, athletic skill, and the intensity of one's own work ethic. You can toss around all the stereotypes you like, but for every "obvious" truth you are going to discover countless clear exceptions. And that's what makes the game itself so fantastic.

Meanwhile, nobody likes a zebra. Referees are without a doubt the most reviled creatures in sports, and yet they rarely deserve the abuse they receive. And I agree with David Stern -- NBA referees are unquestionably the best and most reliable officials to be found anywhere, and work in what is also probably the most difficult and fast-moving game to officiate. As someone who plays in a pick-up league where we call our own fouls (and is now sporting a huge bruise on his sternum where he received an elbow to the chest on Wednesday night -- no call, of course), I appreciate the work that officials do, even if I don't particularly like it when the calls don't go my way.

As for racism itself, I look forward to the day when Aunt Jemima and Uncle Ben will seem just as innocuous as Betty Crocker and Colonel Sanders. But I also realize that this day may never come. The truth of the matter is, the more I learn about these issues, the better I understand how complicated they are, and how much I just don't get. But at least on the basketball court, NO ONE is created equal. And we all have to learn to do our best with whatever we have taught ourselves to do with the gifts that God has given us....

Q: Why did the chicken cross to the other side of the street?
A: He wanted to get away from Colonel Sanders.

Q: Why did the chicken cross the basketball court?
A: Because he heard that the referee was blowing fowls....

Baron, Si! Cuban NO!!

2007-05-04T06:29:00.000-07:00

The Warriors scored 112 points in Dallas the other night, but it wasn't enough to close out the Mavs, who went on a late 4th quarter run and won at home going away. Last night the Warriors needed one less point to blow the Mavs out of the arena 111-86 back in Oakland, and eliminate them from the playoffs in front of an enthusiastic home crowd garbed in gold and screaming "We Believe!"

Baron Davis tweeked his hammie (what a strange phrase THAT must be for a non-native speaker of English) late in the first quarter, which briefly sent him to the locker room for treatment -- but combative teammate Stephen Jackson stepped up to the challenge and drained some ungodly number of consecutive treys (I'll look it up in the box score later...and so can you) and it was off to the races in what for awhile looked an awful lot like an up-and-down three-point shooting contest in the spirit of Paul Westhead.

But the Mavs cooled off in the 3rd quarter, while it seemed like the Warriors just couldn't miss. Witness Baron's goofy-footed, off-balance three from the West Wing, and another waved-off bucket from half-court (by Jason Richardson?) which failed to beat the buzzer but still put a thrill in the hearts of the Warriors faithful.

I know this is the first time in NBA history that an eight-seed has eliminated a one-seed in a seven-game series, and the first time in fifty years that BOTH teams who played for the Championship the previous season have been sent home at the end of the first round. But both the Warriors and the Bulls are playing excellent, high-energy basketball right now, having both made dramatic rooster moves this past season which are finally starting to pay off at just the right time.

I think the Bulls/Pistons series is going to be a brawl, and that the Warriors will give either the Jazz or the Rockets all they can handle. Still like the Spurs to win it all, and am really looking forward to watching their upcoming match-up with the Suns...which could easily prove to be the second-most entertaining series of the entire playoffs. And again, who really cares what's happening in the East with the Nets, the Raptors, or even the Cavs...

But at this point, Golden State is Cinderella. And Mark Cuban is the jealous ugly step-sister. And the slipper...the slipper looks fly! And I just LOVED the AP tag-line: Whoa Nellie! Coach Don Nelson has done a helluva job with his Wild Warriors. They play their hearts out, and they're fun to watch. Let's hope they can keep it going a little longer.

And the difference is...

2007-05-01T06:59:00.000-07:00

Big Shot Bob. Or maybe it's just Jacque Vaughn. And I'm that sure coaching and experience might have a little something to do with it. Horry used to drive me nuts when he'd drain those dagger threes against teams I was rooting for, but now they've just become a familiar fourth quarter ritual. Yet Vaughn's quiet six points and a nifty assist in a mere eight minutes of PT might also be thought of as the margin of victory...and in many ways represent a much better measure of the real difference between the Spurs and the Nuggets.

Alan Iverson, Carmelo Anthony, and Marcus Camby are three guys around which any coach would be delighted to build a squad. And George Karl has guys who can play around them too: Nene Hilario, Eduardo Najera, J.R. Smith and even little Steve Blake all have game...and I suppose even Linas Kleiza has enough talent to get him a green card. But that's it. The Nuggets rotation goes eight deep...and the shallow end of the bench is hardly deep enough to moisten the heel of a cowboy boot.

The Spurs, on the other hand, have ten solid players who can all contribute on both ends of the floor. It's not just Tim Duncan and Tony Parker; guys like Horry, Bruce Bowen and Manu Ginobili are all superb ballers in their own right, while Brent Barry and Michael Finley are both first round picks who would be starting on a lot of teams, and even the Green Card contingent (Francisco Elson and Fabricio Oberto) play with a lot of spirit and intensity to match their size. I would love to watch a half court pick-up game between Nene, Najera, and Kleiza vs Elson, Oberto, and Ginobili. Although I'm not sure anyone on the planet can really guard Manu one-on-one.

Anyway, great game last night and I FINALLY had a chance to watch from the opening tip to the final buzzer. And in the end, it wasn't so much Bob Horry's final trey as it was better execution and defense by the Spurs when it counted. And yes, the Nuggets will be back. What doesn't kill them only makes them stronger.

Troubled but Talented?

2007-04-30T08:11:00.000-07:00

OK, I don't usually write about professional (American) football -- and especially things like "transactions" and the NFL draft. The whole enterprise just sort of annoys and disgusts me on a deeply visceral level...that is, when I bother to think about it at all. But all of this business about the Randy Moss trade is actually kind of entertaining. So far this morning I've heard Moss characterized as having "bad attitude" and a "poor work ethic," as well as being "controversial" and...well, you get the picture even if you haven't been watching them yourselves.

But here's the deal. Giving up the (presumably) 110th most talented college player of 2007 in exchange for a 10-year veteran receiver of his accomplishments who can still run forty yards in 4.29 seconds is a steal. And I don't really care that he's been known to smoke a little pot, or even that he had an unfortunate run-in with a traffic cop while high; and I'm actually kind of amused that he once pretended to drop his pants in the end zone in order to taunt some opposing fans. And I'm VERY impressed by how much money he was willing to give up in order to come to a winning team. That college kid probably wouldn't have made the squad anyway. And Randy Moss is, well, Randy Moss. Anyway, that's my opinion on the football news of the day. As if I didn't have anything more important to do....

Two B's & too much D

2007-04-30T01:06:00.000-07:00

So, the defending Champions have been swept in four straight, and their finals opponents are down 3-1 and on the threshold of elimination....by a number eight seed! The reason? For Miami, it was too much Ben Wallace; and for Dallas it's too much Baron Davis. Now Big Ben gets a shot at his former teammates in Detroit, and the Baron...well, I'm just so impressed with this guy I'm staying up well past my bedtime just to watch him play. The whole Warriors team is a work of art...their defense, their ball movement, their hustle, their dribble penetration and three point shooting, and did I mention their defense?

Still have only had a chance to watch three minutes of the Spurs/Nuggets series, which kinda has me disappointed. But what a great three minutes! And tomorrow (I mean tonight) is another game....

4-on-4, Back-2-Back

2007-04-23T21:57:00.000-07:00

For some reason I'm having a hard time getting excited about the NBA playoffs. Maybe it's just the early rounds, and the lack of any local rooting interest...obviously no Celtics, but no Sonics (who I hear are moving to Oklahoma City next year anyway) or Trailblazers either... and who really cares about the Lakers anymore? Gotta love the Spurs and hate the Mavs, respect the Suns, and the Nuggets are at least intriguing. Jazz/Rockets -- so what? In the East I still like Miami and Detroit -- but the Bulls are playing cocky, and I miss the Pacers. And I've heard enough LeBron hype to last me a lifetime. Maybe I'll start paying more attention in a couple of weeks. Chicago/Miami, Denver/San Antonio, and Golden State/Dallas are really the only first-round match-ups worth watching. And even those are a little lame...

Meanwhile, speak of lame, hobbled out on the court again tonight for the second day in a row, after having played yesterday afternoon as well. I don't often try to play back to back nights anymore, but for some reason today I was feeling a little friskier than usual and decided to try it. Good weather and school vacation have cut into our regular turn-out -- one of the reasons I played at all on Sunday is that I knew they were going to have a hard time making a minyan, and since I had nothing better to do I thought I'd help out. And as it was, we only had eight both times, which meant playing 4-on-4 instead of our regular 5-on-5.

It's funny how the game changes when you play with one fewer player on each team. A lot of games I see now are 4-on-4 runs on a short court, and despite the fact that it looks the same, it is really very different. Theoretically I suppose playing 4-on-4 instead of 5-on-5 means that everyone gets 25% more touches (which is to say, all things being equal, instead of touching the ball 20% of the time, each player handles it 25% of the time, which is 5% more of the total touches, but 25% more than you were touching it before -- five being 25% of twenty), but this rarely works out in real life. What it does mean is that the absence of an additional help-side defender puts the wide-open shot one fewer extra pass away than usual, and that the cross-court back-door pass is sometimes available as well. It also opens up the court in transition; but in the over-35 games I play in, we have an "offside" rule which prohibits the offense from passing the ball across midcourt, and thus eliminates any cherry-picking.

3-on-3 is a half-court game, and has truly evolved into a game all its own. Played well, it's basically fundamental old-school pick-and-roll/give-and-go basketball...with a spot-up shooter/back-door slasher on the weak-side to exploit the double-team. I sometimes like to play this at about three-quarter speed as a warm-up, but generally it doesn't hold much interest for me any more. 3-on-3 likewise can be played either "winners-outs" (where the team that scores keeps possesion of the ball) or "losers-outs" (where possession changes after every score), which are two very different games in their own right. When the winners keep the ball, the better team can generally dispose of the weaker team pretty quickly, whereas with two fairly balanced teams the team that plays better defense will generally win the game. Alternating possessions ("losers") often degenerates pretty quickly into a game of H-O-R-S-E: nobody plays any defense at all, since everyone knows they are going to get the ball back anyway, and want to conserve energy to create shots for themselves.

2-on-2 is a much more athletic half-court game, especially when the offensive team is allowed to dribble the ball in from the top of the key after checking-up. It's hard to create a shot by passing alone in 2-on-2, which at once is both its charm and its bane. I tend to think of 3-on-3 as a driveway game and 2-on-2 as a playground game, although it might just as easily be the other way around, depending on how many kids there were in your neighborhood (and how big the driveways were). The movie "White Men Can't Jump" is a great comic celebration of the charm of 2-on-2, and perhaps its principal redeeming virtue.

1-on-1 is at once both the ultimate test of individual skills, and a silly pointless expression of macho mano-a-mano. Hate it and NEVER play it any more... unless I'm really feeling the need to school somebody I know I can beat easily simply by going left, and by forcing them to their weak hand as well. But ordinarily I'd rather just shoot on my own than play a game of 1-on-1 -- and when I see guys trying to play 1-on-1 (or, more typically, 1-on-3 or 4 or even 5) while four other guys stand around watching and waiting their turn...it actually makes me angry.

Anyway, what is the point of all this rambling? Sunday afternoon I stepped on the court feeling terrible...still limping around with a mysterious bruise on my left knee that I couldn't remember HOW I'd gotten (and no, I hadn't been drinking...), which left me feeling like I just couldn't find that top gear. Struggled terribly on both offense and defense, and with only eight players on the floor there wasn't really anyplace to hide either. Made one basket the entire night -- an ugly jump-shot from the free throw line which bounced all over the rim before finally falling through, to accompany a handful of uglier bricks and some even uglier turnovers.

So tonight I'd pretty much planned on staying home, but as the time grew closer and my legs actully felt OK, I decided I might as well suit up and see how it went...and sure enough, again we only had eight (and if I hadn't showed there might not have been a game at all). It actually took about half an hour even before the eight showed up, which meant plenty of time to stretch, warm-up, and even play a little easy 3-on-3. First few games only played so-so, and I was still shooting pretty poorly, although not quite as badly as the afternoon before. Knew exactly what the problem was too (I was releasing the ball off the side of my index finger rather than cleanly with all the fingers of my shooting hand keeping contact with the ball until the shot left my hand, which meant that everything came off my fingers both weak and short), but the more I thought about it the worse it got...especially once I started thinking about my fingers rather than looking at the rim

But then, thanks mostly to the extra touches I was getting, I found a little rhythm and stopped thinking so much. Started out by creating a little 16-foot jump shot for myself by dribbling left around a high screen on the left elbow, pulling up and knocking it down...and then knocked down another four shots in relatively quick succession...three of them from beyond the arc, all of them with a quick, clean release and hitting nothing but net. And you know...my knees suddenly felt great. So I imagine I'll be out there again Wednesday night too.....

24-58

2007-04-19T02:52:00.000-07:00

And I guess I really don't have to say too much more. The rest of the NBA is gearing up for the "second season," but the once-proud Celtics are all heading home. Haven't watched too much of their season this year anyway, although what little I've seen of these last few games has actually been fairly entertaining -- our young guys playing against the end of the bench of two Championship-caliber teams -- both groups essentially playing for their future in the league, and playing their hearts out, just like they were back on the playground where "winners" get to keep the court and the losers have to wait for "next."

My own season is starting to wind down too. Maybe six more games this spring, before I leave for a ten day "job audition" in Portland (ME not OR), and after that who knows how long my guys will continue to play into the summer. There are a couple of Sunday afternoon games I may check out between now and then, since I understand they play a little longer. But at best I have a month or so to play once I get back from Maine, before I have to starting thinking about the logistics of moving there permanently, and finding a new gym, and a new group of guys to play with.

And that's tough. Exciting, in the sense that they won't know me and I won't know them, and so I have another chance to surprise a few people by doing things that no one would think from looking at me that I'm capable of doing. And I'll need to remember to share the ball and play "D" and not look too much for my own shot...all the little things that good players appreciate, and the "less-good" players don't even see....

I've sometimes daydreamed about writing a book called "Pick-Up Basketball by the Numbers." A book for casual, recreational players like myself about knowing how to figure out whether you're the first option or the last option on a particular squad, and getting the ball into the hands of the guy who SHOULD be making things happen. About knowing whether you are a "big" or a "quick," someone who plays best in the post or out on the perimeter, whether you are a slasher or a spot-up shooter or someone who likes to play with his back to the basket, and (most importantly of all) HOW TO RECOGNIZE THE SKILLS OF YOUR TEAMMATES AND FIGURE OUT WHERE YOU FIT IN, SO THAT YOU CAN ALL PLAY TOGETHER RATHER THAN COMPETING WITH ONE ANOTHER TO GET "YOUR" SHOT. You know, little things like proper spacing and sharing the ball, when to trap and when to stay home, and how to rotate out of a trap to match-up again and prevent the wide-open lay-up when your opponents also figure out how to set screens and make the extra pass.

There's just so much...and even guys who played organized ball when they were younger often don't get it, since they typically were taught a specific system of play rather than the so-called FundaMENTALS of basketball itself. I'm talking about much more simple skills than knowing how to execute (and break) a 2-2-1 full-court zone press. Little things like BAFFLE (Balance the Floor, Attack the Basket, Fill Back to the Ball, Fake!, Look for the Open Teammate, Execute the Extra Pass to Earn an Easy Basket) and ROAR (Rebound the ball, Outlet Quickly, Attack down the middle, Run the Floor), or "Trap and Gap." How to communicate on both offense and defense, how to run (and defend) the pick-and-roll, the give-and-go, the curl, the back-door cut, and all the other subtle nuances of the Game...including of course John Wooden's classic "move quickly, but never hurry." Just the thing those of us still playing in our fifties really need to remember.

Anyway, last night's run was only semi-satisfying...lots of good players out, but only 15 total (which meant that nobody had to sit too long). But we never quite got the teams right, which meant a few pretty lopsided victories...I knocked down my only basket of the evening -- a three I needed to shout into the basket when it started to dance on the rim a bit -- to win one of those early lopsided games, and after that had to content myself with trying not to create too many turnovers, and doing my best to rebound and defend. Oh wait, I did get a wide-open run-out lay-up on a cherry-picking expedition...which did get a little exciting when the outlet pass was thrown behind me and I had to wait for it. Ended the night playing with four guys I all like very much, but who weren't sharing the ball very well at all...way too many attempts to create shots for themselves off the dribble, which meant that I didn't see that many touches, and we got our asses kicked pretty handily. But what the hell. Got my pulse rate up and didn't get hurt, so I guess it was a good night.

Was also playing in new shoes last night -- one of three (nearly) identical pairs of Nikes I picked up on sale at Sears for $32/pair. I say nearly identical because I bought both a white pair and a black pair in my usual size, and then another black pair a size and a half larger, because I wanted to see whether they would better accomodate my prescription orthotics, my ankle wraps, and the THREE pairs of socks I've been playing in lately. Those were the shoes I was wearing last night, and I actually got to the gym early just to try them out, and to see whether a little extra warm-up and stretching might help me play a little better than I feel like I've been playing lately. But the only difference I could see was that I also felt OK about leaving a little earlier too. Meanwhile, my old "game" shoes now become my practice shoes, and my old practice shoes are now my "playground" pair. Which also means (God forbid!) I now get to throw a pair out if I want to...

Friday Nights Lite

2007-04-12T07:00:00.000-07:00

Just finished watching the season finale of "Friday Night Lights," the NBC television series based on the book and movie of the same name, which casts a critical eye on the "Schoolboy Football" culture of West Texas. The book was written by Pulitzer Prize winning journalist H.G Bissinger, and published in 1990. It chronicles the 1988 season of the Odessa Permian Panthers, and tells a chilling tale of racisim, anti-intellectualism, career-ending injuries, and a community where 17-year-old athletes are treated as Gods, and then abandoned as garbage or left to ponder the ironic reality that nothing in their life will ever equal that experience again.

The movie, directed by Bissinger's cousin Peter Berg (who also produced the television series) maintains much of this critical attitude, although obviously it sacrifies some subtlety and nuance in exchange for the vividness of film, and tends to play up more of the comaradarie of sport alongside the darker aspects of the religion of winner-take-all competition. And as much as I have enjoyed the TV show, it seems like on the small screen the dark side of football is missing almost entirely. The allusions are there: the season begins with a career-ending spinal injury to the star "golden boy" Quarterback Jason Street; but by the end of the season (just in time for the State Championship game) he is back on the sidelines in his wheelchair, his physical rehabilitation apparently complete, and gainfully employed coaching his sophmore back-up Matt Saracen to the title (a significant variation in itself from both book and film, where the Panther's ended up on the short end of the scoreboard. Of course, those were both based on a real team and a real season). So I guess what I'm trying to say is that the themes remain, but in a "family hour" version that is just a little too sweet to be truly substantial...not withstanting all the shouting, the cheers and the tears, the betrayals and disappointments, the hard hits and last-second heroics which lead to ultimate victory. It's sentimental and nostaligic, rather than honest and true. And thus ultimately, it is more a disappointment than a victory itself.

And I realize that maybe I'm being a little too hard on this silly little show which probably won't even get picked up for a second season. And I did have to watch it on a VERY small screen -- the screen of this iBook, actually, since I spent my own Wednesday night playing in my regular pick-up game. Got there a little late, because I also wanted to see Ichiro's first at bat against Dice-K, and I didn't make a basket the entire evening...but it didn't matter, because I was seeing the floor SO well and passing the ball right on the dime, as well as playing very satisfying defense and getting my hands in the passing lanes and getting to the loose balls. And my teammates were TRYING to get me shots -- had a little running right-handed hook to start the night out that really should have gone in, as well as a little left-handed lay-up attempt from behind the backboard on the right baseline that I just shot a little too hard to get the roll. And several good looks at threes in rhythm that just didn't go down for me. But it didn't matter. I was with a group of guys who spread the floor and shared the ball, hustled to help out on "D" and generally just played well together. I don't think we lost a single game. Not that that mattered either. Good times! Can't wait to get back....

Dice-KKKKKKKKKK

2007-04-06T08:00:00.000-07:00

And how long has Dan Shaughnessy been anticipating the opportunity to use THAT headline? Just finished reading (that's right, READING) about Daisuke Matsusaka's debut start for the Red Sox, in which (as you might guess from the headline) he struck out ten to beat the Royals 4-1 and earn his first official American Big League victory. But if it weren't for the $103 million the Red Sox paid for this pitcher ($52 million to the player, and another $51 million to the team he played for in Japan) would anyone have been watching this game at all?

What can I say? I like baseball as much as the next guy, and the Red Sox are practically a religion in my community. And having grown up on the West Coast, I've certainly seen my share of talented Asian athletes (in fact, three of the guys I used to play basketball with every morning on the playground before school in the eighth grade were Japanese-Americans: Mitch Nakano, Brian Nishimoto, and Steve Nara were their names, and one of them even had a shot named after him -- the "Nakano Swish" -- which was a jump shot with perfect arc and rotation that was straight and short so that it just brushed the net without passing through the rim. That was always good for a 30 second argument in the days before "nothing but net" was a playground catch-phrase...) And I also know that professional basketball players, as a group, are the most highly paid athletes in the world, which means that it's a little hypocritical for a bigmouth like me to appear shocked, shocked, when someone who hurls the horsehide (or for that matter, flings the pigskin) finally manages to get paid.

But here's my question? How many people were watching this game yesterday because they wanted to see baseball, and how many were watching simply to see what $103 million looked like on the mound? And how many of those people were rooting for him to succeed, and how many were hoping he would fail? It's just a little too much "sport as spectacle" for my taste. Like watching NASCAR hoping to see the big crash. Or hanging around the Roman Collesium in the heat of the afternoon waiting for a chance to see the Lions devour the Christians.

Come on America -- give me a break! Baseball is supposed to be a game played afternoons in a "ballpark" where you can sit in the sun and eat a hot dog and some peanuts (and maybe drink a beer) while you hide out from the boss and play hooky from work. Or listened to on the radio while sitting on a shady porch drinking lemonade after digging in the garden. And the ball players are supposed to be rough and tumble low-life bums who play "for love of the game," consort with gamblers and bootleggers, and die in abject poverty at the end of their careers as object lessons to the privileged children of East Coast aristocrats whose sons are tempted by the lure of the diamond rather than the promises of Ivy League respectability.

Still, I understand he was pretty impressive. 10 K's. And an arsenal of pitches to rival Sachael Paige. Now, if we can just acquire Ichiro from the Mariners to hit lead-off, roam right field, and steal a few bases for us. Look at Yankees! Here we come!

The Worm (Re)Turns

2007-04-04T23:34:00.000-07:00

So, just for giggles and a change of pace, I reached way back in my closet tonight, and pulled out #91 -- Dennis Rodman's Chicago Bulls thowback jersey, which I probably bought for under $12 at Ross or Marshalls or one of those places, and don't think I've ever actually worn before in the decade or so that I've owned it. But it was fun to step on the court and try to "channel" the Worm -- crash the boards, play hard-nosed "D," score all my points on offensive rebounds and second-chance buckets.

And you know, it was actually kinda great. I must have scored 13 points tonight: one good three (just to keep things honest), a couple of offensive put-backs, a driving lay-up, another lay-up off a curl, and a slashing finger-roll off a long offensive rebound which surprised EVERYONE (including me). And those are just the ones I remember. Also missed a couple of other looks at threes, a short little jump hook from the left baseline, and three or four five-foot "J's" (which was actually kinda embarassing -- clearly I need to practice those more).

But the real story for me tonight was assists. I made some absolutely AMAZING passes tonight -- giving my guys wide-open looks six-inches from the basket while their defenders were looking the other direction in absolute confusion. Good assist to turnover ratio too -- there were a few times when I couldn't quite find the handle and threw the ball away, but for the most part I had pinpoint control: seeing the whole floor, looking off the defender and then hitting my teammates right in the hands -- threading the needle with just enough pace to beat the defense and just enough touch that the receiver could catch the ball in rhythm and put it in the hole...and it felt fantastic! Simply Fantastic!

Of course, I also had the privilege of hand-picking the guys I played with tonight, and picking guys who also share the ball, move well without it, and aren't afraid to help out on "D." And that felt fantastic too. Even if I was a little more assertive about that than usual. But it all comes from today's fortune cookie: "Better Ignorance on Fire than Knowledge on Ice." Which is to say, Misguided Enthusiasm trumps Wise Passivity every f***ing time. Something we could all use to wise up to.

Ho Hum...

2007-04-03T06:16:00.000-07:00

So, just how many ways can a Gator chew up and spit out a Buckeye? Out of respect, I did keep an eye on the second half on my "screen within a screen" while I watched "The Black Donnelly's" on a competing network. But Greg Oden's ability FINALLY to stay out of foul trouble only helped to make the game marginally more interesting. And I guess we should all be impressed that Florida has won back to back titles, and are the only school in NCAA history to hold both the football and the Men's basketball championships at the same time. But from where I sit, it's just the state that put Dubya in the White House for the first time teaching a lesson to the state that elected him to a second term. I would have much rather seen a Ducks/Tar Heels matchup, as would have my running mate from our regular Monday/Wednesday over-35 pick-up game, who also had Oregon and North Carolina playing for the Championship in his bracket, and (like me) until the Sunday before last was leading everyone else in his pool of more than 500 participants. Of course, he had Carolina Blue over the Green & Gold in HIS bracket...but now we'll never know who had it right. I still say Oregon gave Florida its toughest challenge of the tournament, and that without an exceptionally fine performance by #12 Humphrey (and an uncharacteristically poor one by #12 Porter), that game would have gone the other way. As for Carolina's meltdown in OT against Georgetown...well, I'll NEVER understand that one....

One nice thing about the 9:30 EDT tip-off is that we were still able to squeeze in a full run ourselves last night. Shot poorly again (as it seems I have for months), but I did FINALLY knock down an open three when it counted, and also made the game winning assist in the final game of the night. Exactly 15 players came out too, which meant that we all got plenty of PT, and that the teams stayed pretty much the same so we all developed a little better chemistry over the course of the evening. Mostly I just tried to rebound and play good defense, share the ball, and shoot when I was open. And it felt good. Even if it didn't always look that good....

Last night as we were shooting around waiting for ten guys to show up so we could start, somebody asked me how long I've been playinhg this game. And the truth is, I don't really know. I honestly can't remember the first time I picked up a basketball, but I do know that I was playing almost every recess by the fourth grade, and have been playing pretty regularly ever since. How old is a fourth grader anyway? Eight? Nine? So, four decades and change... no wonder my knees hurt all the time. And I guess that also explains why I own two dozen basketballs, and more pairs of basketball shorts than I can count. Most of which, I'm ashamed to say, don't really fit any more either....

Maybe I shoulda just stayed home....

2007-03-29T06:44:00.000-07:00

Just heard on the radio that the Celtics beat the Magic last night in double overtime. Meanwhile, here on MY home court, I put up three shots last night -- all of them airballs -- waddled around the floor like a lame duck, hit an opponent (who admittedly had his head turned, which is why I attempted it in the first place) in the side of the face with a no-look pass, and with the exception of a few strong rebounds and some occasional help defense, basically played like crap, crap, crap the whole night long. The culminating humiliation? After getting blown out 11-2 in one game, my teammates swapped me for the guy I'd been guarding when we ran it back, and my NEW team got blown out 12-0! Plus, I tore an eyelet out of right sneaker trying to tighten the laces, which means that I'm about to splurge on fresh kicks again. Not that I think a new pair of shoes would have helped. Maybe a new set of legs....

Spring Has Sprung

2007-03-27T06:27:00.000-07:00

This is always an interesting time of year for pick-up ballers. The High School season is over, and most High School athletes are either already participating in a spring sport (like baseball, or track & field) or gravitating into the gym for a little off-season work-out. There's one more weekend of College B-Ball yet to be played, and the NBA is entering into the backstretch toward the most interesting part of its season.

Meanwhile, us old guys who have been playing all winter are finally starting to hit our stride...at least those of us who aren't nursing injuries. It's taken us six months to play ourselves into shape, but in a few more months it will all be over for another year, as daylight savings time and better weather begins to tempt many of us outdoors in the evenings and on weekends.

It's been years -- maybe even decades -- since I've played serious ball on an outdoor court. (Of course, there are some who would say that it's been decades since I've played serious ball ANYWHERE). But the concrete is just too hard on my fifty-year-old knees -- not to mention the potential embarassment of "shirts & skins." I just wear way too much spandex and neoprene to play comfortably under the hot summer sun, and that's the long and the short of it. So I'm trying to savour these last few months of gym rat, and trying NOT to let my new-found Spring friskiness tempt me into trying to make imaginative moves that my aging body can't execute.

Last night I was mostly a passer, a defender, and especially a rebounder. I actually get a great deal of pleasure out of those aspects of the game -- showing out over the top of a screen to cut off a drive out of a pick & roll, or making that extra pass which leads to a wide-open shot for one of my team mates. I tend to see the floor pretty well, which helps me both to anticipate what my opponents want to do, and also to find my team mates when they're open. But the rebounding gives me particular pleasure: boxing out, getting up high with both hands, and especially those Worm-like second-hop self-tips, where nobody can really get control at first, but I'm able to get enough of a hand on the ball to tip it to myself. And then making the quick outlet pass to start the break and create an easy basket.

Of course, after making a few plays like that, the call of one's long lost athleticism becomes dangerously seductive. For example, I drove to the basket off the bounce three times last night, but naturally couldn't get anywhere close to finishing at the rim. Instead, I missed a long, tear-drop finger-roll on the right baseline, its mirror-image twin on the left, and then finally an eight-foot jumper from the right short corner (which really should have gone down...I'm still not sure HOW I missed it). I did score a game-winning three to open the night (after first calming my team down and helping to bring us back from five down to win by two), and also a game-winning jump shot from the left elbow to end the night on a winning note.

That shot I will remember for a long time, simply because of how I got the look in the first place. My team mate "Curly" had once again put his head down and dribbled into a triple-team just inside the three-point line on the right wing, made his predictable reverse pivot into the face of the trap, then offered up the pointless observation "Someone's Open!" So I called back (in a somewhat sardonic tone of voice, I'm afraid) "I'm open..." -- corralled the wild pass, knocked down the easy Jay, and headed home feeling a little frisky myself after two hours of a pretty good run.

Too much 12 (and not enough 12)

2007-03-25T19:33:00.000-07:00

OK, ordinarily I'm thrilled when a 6'2" white guy lights it up from beyond the arc, drops in 23, and single-handedly changes the entire rhythm and outcome of a game. But when Lee Humphrey does it to MY Ducks...not so much. Meanwhile, Oregon freshman Tajuan Porter, the 5' 6" Mighty Mouse who heated it up for 33 on Friday night, looked like he spent the last 48 hours packed in ice. And thus it came to pass that the defending National Champions will be advancing to Atlanta, while the team which won the first ever NCAA tournament back in 1939 (and haven't won it since) are headed back home to Eugene.

But you have to admire the Gators. Joakim Noah turned down millions of dollars and the opportunity to be playing this year in the NBA in order to stay in school, keep last year's squad intact, and try for back-to-back championships. And today he certainly played like he wanted to get his money's worth. Fourteen points and fourteen rebounds, not to mention the intensity of his defense. Noah was an animal under the boards on both ends of the floor; I thought the Oregon guards would give the Gators everything they could handle, but nobody on the Ducks front line seemed to be able to handle Joakim today. Hard to believe that he almost single-handedly fouled out three guys, and didn't pick up his own second personal foul until there was less than a minute left in the game. But I was watching pretty carefully -- and it was all hustle and hop. So even though I hate his haircut, I have to give him credit. #13 played a helluva game too.

And then there was #11. Taurean Green scored a very quiet 21, much of it from the line. Meanwhile, I thought the Ducks missed an opportunity to look a little more often for local Oregon boy Maarty Leunen on the pick-and-pop midway through the second half; #10 has a nice stroke from beyond the arc, and that might have brought Noah out a little farther from the basket, and also broken up the aggressive double-teams on Aaron Brooks as he dribbled over Leunen's screen. Thought Malik Hairston also played a fantastic game, before fouling out just under four minutes from the finish.

Meanwhile, when I went to bed last night my bracket was looking pretty healthy. Both the Bruins and the Buckeyes were thru to the Final Four, and while I fully expected it to be a battle between the Ducks and the Gators, I also had every reason to think that North Carolina wouldn't have TOO much trouble handling Georgetown...which they seemed to be doing easily until more than midway through the second half, when suddenly the Hoyas went on a very impressive run to force the game into OT, and then humiliated the Tar Heels by holding them scoreless throughout almost the entire extra period (or at least until it didn't matter anymore). So now, instead of looking forward to a big showdown next weekend between ALL FOUR of the teams I originally picked to be there back when the tournament started two weeks ago, my bracket is basically done: 43-20. Which doesn't necessarily mean that I won't still be watching next Monday night. But probably not until after I get home from my own game first....

Madness Update III

2007-03-23T21:09:00.000-07:00

Tournament record is now 41-15, which I guess is just testimony to the wisdom of making conservative picks. All four number one seeds are still alive, which makes it easy to look smart. Very annoying once again not to be able to watch my Ducks, although the North Carolina/USC game was truly astounding...don't know whether I'm in awe of the Tar Heels comeback, or disguested by the choking Trojans, but it was awfully nice to at least be able to fantasize for a half about three teams from the Pac-10 competing in the Final Four (even though a Carolina loss would have gutted that whole half of my bracket) Anyway, tomorrow I've got UCLA beating Kansas and Ohio State over Memphis, while Sunday I have both the Tar Heels and the Ducks advancing. Just my luck: I'll probably be stuck in church during the Ducks game anyway...but for the moment at least, my bracket is a very healthy shade of green....

The Man Wants a Beer

2007-03-19T21:36:00.000-07:00

So, before I settle in to my couch with a Black & Tan to watch "The Black Donnellys," I need to tell this story about tonight's run. Kind of a tough shooting night for me, despite (or perhaps because of) an hour's worth of shoot-around at my health club earlier in the afternoon. Fumbled touches, short shots, no rhythm, and eventually tired legs as I found myself playing three and four games in a row because there were only a dozen of us in the gym. So finally after two hours of this, without having scored a basket all night, I called for the ball as it came up the court, dribbled to the top of the key, rose up and drained a perfect three to win the last game of the evening and send us all home. And as I walked toward the bench, the ball still bouncing on the floor beneath the net, one of my teammates called out "the man wants a beer." And all I could answer was "yes I do...."

Madness Update II

2007-03-18T17:17:00.000-07:00

So here's the bad news. While the Harvard Women are getting their asses kicked over on ESPN, my Oregon Ducks are giving upstart Winthrop the spanking they deserve on CBS...but do I get to see a minute of it? OK, to be fair, maybe a few minutes -- a little of the getting acquainted at the very beginning of the game before the Florida/Purdue tip-off, and then a few minutes more between commercial breaks during garbage time. Why can't my Ducks get no respect from CBS? Is it just the uniforms? Or didn't Nike buy enough advertising this year?

Only nine of my teams made it through to the Sweet Sixteen, but they include all of my Final Four picks, and seven of my Elite Eight...so I'm still feeling pretty good about my bracket. And the truth be told, I would much rather see Kansas and USC advance than Kentucky and Texas. See what I get for picking with my head rather than my heart? My former wife is a Jayhawk, and I have earned degrees from three different Pac-10 schools -- so I picked against them just to keep my sentimentality under control, and now I'm wishing I'd had more sense. Meanwhile, Cinderella UNLV (if you can call a seventh seed a "Cinderella") has a lovely father/son human interest story...but I'm still looking forward to watching Oregon run them out of the gym. And if I'd known that graduate students retained their NCAA eligibility, maybe I would have walked on at Harvard myself 25 years ago!

But what's really killing me are the Bud Light commercials. The "Rock-Paper-Scissors" spot is so offensive I will never purchase an Anheiser-Busch product again so long as I live (and may even have to give up rooting for the Cardinals), while the one about the hitchhiking chainsaw killer really isn't that much better. Who thinks of these things? And who thinks they're funny? Drunks...that's who. Drunks. And probably underage Drunks at that. Just a little something to think about next time you're thinking about consuming an adult beverage. Sam Adams or Amstel Light if you must. But life is too short to drink bad beer, so treat yourself to a REAL microbrew, and leave the p**s water in the toilet where it belongs.

Madness Update I

2007-03-17T14:05:00.000-07:00

25-7 for the first round of the tournament; not as good as I would have liked, but my bracket still looks pretty healthy over the long haul, since all of my sweet sixteen teams are still in the dance...so far. Missed BOTH BC over the Red Raiders and the Hoosiers over Gonzaga, proving I suppose that it is always a mistake to go with Bobby Knight instead of the Indiana basketball tradition. Also missed three out of four 8-9 match-ups (mostly because I just went with my gut instead of doing ten minutes worth of homework), but I did have Winthrop over Notre Dame (which really was a no-brainer, if you stopped for just a second to think about it). Thought Duke would at least make it into the second round (who didn't?), and that Long Beach State would run circles around Tennessee: who would ever have dreamed that the MALE Vols could give up 86 points, and still come up with 121 themselves to blow the Forty-Niners out of the gym? And the worst thing was I didn't see a minute of the game, because I was stuck in a church meeting that night instead!

Also missed seeing the Ducks victory last night, more because of CBS than anything I did wrong. OK, so maybe it was important to some people to see the news about the snowstorm that they could have watched with their own two eyes if they'd simply looked out the window. But it reminds me of the bad old days when the Columbia Broadcasting System used to broadcast the early rounds of the NBA play-offs after midnight on a tape delay, rather than interrupting their "prime time" line-up. Sound's like it was a pretty exciting game too, although apparently things weren't nearly as close as the final score made it sound. And now I find myself rooting for Xavier over Ohio State (even though I have it exactly the other way in my bracket), simply because of the human interest aspect. That's just the sort of thing my former wife would have done. Which is why she loves tournament time too....

Postgame Postscript: Well, that couldn't have been much better from my perspective if I'd scripted it: a fantastic effort by the Musketeers, a last-second shot to put the game into overtime, and finally a Buckeye victory to keep my bracket intact. Sorry Xavier -- you guys played great and really deserved to move on. And yes, I also felt that Oden's fifth foul at the end was a little harder than it needed to be. But if I were a referee, I would have had a hard time calling "intentional" at that point in the game too; better to let the players settle things on the floor. Which they did....

Pure Madness

2007-03-14T22:03:00.000-07:00

22 players tonight -- close to a season high, I think, and no doubt inspired (at least in part) by the upcoming beginning of the NCAA tournament, and MUCH warmer weather. Fortunately the games were quick, so no one had to sit for TOO long. I only made three shots all night -- including the first basket of the evening, on an easy cut down the lane and a pass from the wing. Nearly fumbled the ball too, but then snagged it out of the air on the second try and layed it in just like it was a Junior Varsity Lay-Up Drill.

Then came a series of VERY ugly bricks...cinderblocks, really, that I don't even want to remember, before I finally knocked down an easy jumper from the left elbow to start the second game. Then more bricks, and more bricks (including even a few missed lay-ups) until finally, late in the final game, I created a shot for myself by dribbling to my left off a screen, and knocked down an open trey to tie the score and put us within a basket of winning...which came in our next possession. I'm very proud of that shot -- frankly, it took a lot of balls even to take it after the way I'd been shooting all night long, but we desperately needed the lift provided by those points at that point in the game, so I stepped up and knocked it down. Bang!

Anyway, it feels like I've been in this shooting slump for a long, long time. Not sure what to do to break out of it either, since it seems like the more I practice, the worse it gets. Poor, short-armed release, no follow through, not even focused on the target, really...it's just a nightmare. But then every once in awhile, when I'm NOT thinking about it, I shoot the ball perfectly as if I've been doing it that way all my life. Which, for the most part, I have. Until now. Very frustrating.

Anyway, I keep trying to make up for it by playing good defense, rebounding, passing the ball, and trying to do all the little things that make such a big difference. But still, it sucks. And I suck too. And that REALLY sucks....

What's YOUR Fantasy?

2007-03-14T05:18:00.000-07:00

If I could be anywhere else in the world for the next couple of weeks, it would be out in sunny California, with tickets to the NCAA tournament games this weekend in Sacramento, and next weekend in San Jose. There's going to be some awefully fun college basketball played out west this March, and I'm afraid I'm just going to have to sit home and watch it on TV.

Somebody at the gym asked me Monday night who I thought was going to win the Big Dance this year, and without a moment's hesitation I said "Oregon." Of course, I was dressed head to toe in Green and Gold at the time, so my opinion was hardly a revelation. For the past few years I've been filling out my brackets based, not on the teams I think will win, but according to the teams I want to see play. It's as good a technique for filling out a bracket as any other I know, and it's not as if I've got any money riding on the tournament.

The two 1st Round games I'm looking forward to most: Indiana vs Gonzaga and Boston College vs Texas Tech. Kentucky and Villanova, Duke and VCU, USC and Arkansas, Louisville and Stanford, Texas A & M vs Penn, and Tennesee vs Long Beach State all appear worth watching as well, and I'm REALLY looking foward to seeing Oregon trash Miami Ohio, and the WSU Cougars ripping Oral Roberts to pieces there in the ARCO arena.

My Sweet Sixteen picks: Florida, Maryland, Oregon, Wisconsin, Kentucky, Virginia Tech, Pittsburgh, UCLA, North Carolina, Texas, Vanderbilt, Georgetown, Ohio State, Long Beach State, Louisville and Memphis.

My Final Four: Oregon, UCLA, North Carolina, and Ohio State.

And we all know who I want to see win the National Championship. Hey, if it quacks like a duck....

If it quacks like a duck...

2007-03-08T14:38:00.000-08:00

Just finished watching the Oregon Ducks demolish the Arizona Wildcats in the Pac-10 tournament. Since one of my good friends (who also happened to have been my assistant coach when I was coaching at the Boys & Girls Club on Nantucket Island) is a Wildcat, I try to be empathetic...even as I delight in the victory of the boys from the University of Nike. But this is really just another testimony to the effectiveness of good defense and quick guards -- which can put even the most talent teams back on their heels.

I certainly learned that lesson again myself last night. Now today I'm limping around on a bruised knee to go with my bruised ego, after a VERY tough night getting torched by quicker opponants who ran circles around my fat ass and made me feel like a very old man indeed. Put that together with yet another tough shooting night, and some VERY ugly turnovers, and...well, I'm not even going to go there. Even when dragged there kicking and screaming by what's left of my short, blonde hair.

Anyway, tomorrow is another day. And then there's another day after that, and another day after that....

March Madness!

The Streak Ends at Four

2007-03-07T23:51:00.000-08:00

OK, so the Celtics showed a little life here lately, but it would have been an awful lot to expect them to beat the Rockets, even without Yao Ming. But with Yao back in the line-up, and Tracy McGrady lighting it up...111-80 seems almost merciful. What is that margin anyway? 31? I'm not really used to counting that high....

But not to worry. With the Sonics coming to town next, the Celtics have a perfect opportunity to get back on the winning track by beating up on the guys from my home town. So be it. And blessed be....

Two in a Row

2007-03-01T06:28:00.000-08:00

And omigosh! -- the Celtics are on a two-game winning streak, having beaten the equally-disappointing Knicks last night in the Garden. That's Boston, not Madison Square. Again, a spectacle I happily ignored. But you know what I really WOULD stay home to watch? Doc Rivers and Isiah Thomas back on the floor again themselves in laced-up sneakers going one-on-one...

Meanwhile, another good run last night in the over-35 pick-up game. Shooting is slowly improving, and I'm starting to feel like I'm getting back into the flow on both ends of the floor. Still can't run as well as I would like, which sometimes leaves me in an ackward place. But in general a very nice time for a change -- good rebounds, good assists, several steals, a nice combination of threes, lay-ups, and shorter jumpers...all by simply letting the game come to me, rather than trying to force anything. I'm still shooting the ball off the side of my index finger about half the time, which is very annoying -- especially since when I think about it too much, the rest of my shot goes to hell too. So I guess that's just going to require a lot more extra shooting at the gym, until the bad habit finally goes away.

OK, enough. As if I don't have better things to do with my time...

Sharp Cuts, Crisp Passes, Solid Screens

2007-02-27T05:44:00.000-08:00

Perhaps animated by the spirit of DJ, the Celtics FINALLY broke through on the road in Texas last night, and came back from 13 down to beat a short-handed Rockets team by a handful. Not that I was watching; I was finally back on the court again myself, tying to play myself back into "game shape" after a two-week lay-off due as much to weather, travel, and lingering winter puniness as any other reason. This was actually my second night back (since I also played last Wednesday), and it really showed on both ends of the floor -- had a tough time moving defensively to stay with my opponent, and my shooting...well, the less said about that the better. I did finally get into enough of a rhythm that I was able to make a few easy jump shots and a couple of lay-ups to finish fast breaks. But even just running the floor was an ordeal, my reactions were all a step slow, and every shot I put up seemed to roll off the side of my index finger rather than cleanly leaving my hand.

But all those personal shortcomings aside, the nice thing about this time of year is that, for the most part, we are ALL starting to play together a lot better. We're setting better screens, and playing good help defense, the cuts are sharper, the passes crisper, and the whole game just seems to flow a lot more smoothly than it did even just a few months ago. Baseball Spring Training has already begun in Florida and Arizona; the All-Star game and the NBA trading deadline have both passed; the High School and College seasons are all but over now, and it's Tournament time: the beginning of March Madness. Good teams are SUPPOSED to be peaking right now, and it's really a joy to watch. Especially at the High School level, where so much of a team's success is generated by their ability to learn and master certain aspects of the game more quickly than their opponents over the course of a season, the maturing of these young ballplayers is a joy to witness. It's like a metamorphosis: these young players come out of their cocoons and suddenly they can fly. They even move differently on the floor, more gracefully, more confidently, like basketball players. You can easily recongnize a well-coached team this time of year: they've mastered the fundamentals of passing, dribbling, shooting, rebounding, and defending; they've learned their offensive and defensive sets, figured out where they belong on the court in any given situation, and what their responsibilities are; they're running the floor, pressing after made shots, easily breaking their opponent's presses and transforming them into easy baskets, communicating effectively with one another and playing together like a single unit, like a TEAM. With all the emphasis on winning and losing in sport, it's easy to overlook the more fundamental teacher/student, master/disciple relationship which transforms losers into winners. Victory is simply one measure of excellence. But it is not necessarily excellence in its own right.

OK, that's enough of a sermon for today. Just one last word of benediction. Forget about the scoreboard, or the win/loss record. If you REALLY want to measure the excellence of a basketball team, watch them practice and try to notice the little things: how sharply they cut, how crisply they pass, how solidly they set their screens. Because these are the things that ultimately distinguish the real winners from the hopeless losers....

A great player and a wonderful person...

2007-02-23T09:37:00.000-08:00

I guess the only thing that really upsets me more than hearing that some middle-aged man has dropped dead in his driveway while shoveling snow is hearing that a middle-aged, former professional basketball player has dropped dead of a heart attack for no apparent reason at all. One of the little fibs I like to tell myself is that I play basketball so that I WON'T drop dead of a heart attack while shoveling snow, so this sort of news sure puts a damper on that kind of wishful thinking big time. It's just not right. Especially when it's somebody like Dennis Johnson, who came into the league when I was still in college and helped lead the Seattle Supersonics (my hometown team) to their one and only NBA Championship.

I know here in Boston DJ is much better remembered for his Championships with the Celtics, his five All-Star appearances, and especially his slashing left-handed lay-up to beat the Pistons in the final seconds of Game 5 of the 1987 Conference Finals, after Larry Bird's amazing steal of the inbounds pass. But I remember a tenacious defender who sat on the bench in High School, and then played Jr College ball before finally attending Pepperdine and then being drafted into the NBA. And although he's now part of that Beantown Pantheon which includes Larry Bird, Kevin McCale, Robert Parish and Danny Ainge, I'll always see him first in a Sonics uniform, alongside Gus Williams and "Downtown" Freddie Brown, Jack Sikma, Lonnie Shelton, Paul Silas and coach Lenny Wilkens -- MVP of that victory against the Bullets, when Washington Coach Dick Motta first coined that now famous phrase "the opera ain't over 'til the Fat Lady sings" after seeing the publicity for Wagner's Ring Series which was also being performed in Seattle at the time. DJ made the Fat Lady squeal with delight. Along with a few hundred thousand die-hard Sonics fans like myself.

Still, it was Larry Bird who said it best. "Dennis was a great player, one of the best teammates I ever had, and a wonderful person." It's hard to say it any clearer than that. We should all do so well by our friends.

A sigh of relief

2007-02-15T08:20:00.000-08:00

OK, we can all stop holding our breath -- just before the All Star break, the Celtics break through and put an end to their eighteen-game losing streak. Of course, I couldn't bear to watch -- I was busy watching the Blue Devils dismantle Boston College on the other channel, after this winter's first real snowstorm cancelled my usual Wednesday evening pick-up game. And I'm not really sure I've got much more to add. The Celtics could use a long weekend off. Let's just hope the second half of the season goes a little better for them than the first....

A dagger in a broken heart

2007-02-12T04:26:00.000-08:00

Ashamed to say I dozed off to sleep after a long weekend of church sometime in the final five minutes of the fourth quarter, so I actually missed the last-second shot by former Celtic Ricky Davis which sent his old teammates down to their eighteenth straight defeat. And I honestly don't know whether I'm disappointed or grateful. At least with the Truth back on the floor the Green have a chance to regain a little of their tarnished pride. I just thank God that Red wasn't here to see this either....

Magic in Garbage Time

2007-02-09T16:33:00.000-08:00

Got home from the gym today, and flipped on the TV while I was changing my clothes...and what should I see on ESPN Classic but a replay of the 1992 NBA All-Star Game. This is perhaps my most favorite basketball game of all time, simply because it featured a ton (maybe more) of Dream Teamers, and was played just a few months after Magic Johnson was forced to retire from the Lakers because of his HIV infection. But he still led the West to a 40 point blowout, earned MVP honors, and...and this is the part that always makes my heart pump...sucessfully defended one-on-one against first Isiah Thomas and then Michael Jordon in the last two minutes of garbage time, while knocking down three straight treys himself at the other end. And I can still remember how I felt at the time, all the emotion of that moment at the end of the game -- a game that meant nothing and yet meant everything, a game that was already both won and lost, Magic's last game in the NBA against these guys he'd played against so often...it just meant so much, it brough tears to my eyes. And now, fifteen years later, I watch this same game with all the nostalgia of an old man remembering his own misspent youth, and...well, I feel grateful. And greatly filled with both a joy and a sadness I can hardly describe....

Super Bowl ex ell eye

2007-02-05T06:22:00.000-08:00

OK, the big game is finally over, defined in my mind by two big plays: Deven Hester's 92 yard return of the opening kick-off for a touchdown, which put the Bears up 7-0 only 14 seconds into the game, and Kelvin Hayden's fourth quarter 56 yard run-back of an intercepted pass, which put the Colts out of reach and ended Chigago's come-back hopes. And in between? Well, it just goes to show that when you insist on playing in the pouring rain, people are going to drop the ball. The Colts showed a lot of character battling back after spotting the Bears a seven point lead, and really pretty much dominated the game from coin toss to gun, but a lot of the first half in particular reminded me of a greased pig contest. Anyway, that's enough about football. Congratulations Peyton Manning. Enjoy your trip to Disney World.

I've heard that the price of thirty-seconds worth of commercial airtime during yesterday's Super Bowl was $2.5 million, and that over $100 million is estimated to have been bet on the game. How much beer does Budweiser have to sell in order to justify all those ads? And is this really what we want to lift up as a worldwide celebration of traditional American Values: a public spectacle of Competition, Consumption, and Gambling? I think the homophobic Snickers ad was probably the most annoying, although I have to admit I wasn't really paying all that much attention. And the Budweiser "Rock, Paper, Scissors" spot. That's a helluva lesson to teach our children about the importance and value of fair play.

Meanwhile, once again I had the pleasure of listening to a spokesman from the current administration describe our "surge" in Iraq as a "long, fourth quarter drive" on which the ultimate outcome of the game depends. But I'm not too optimistic. This is a team that fumbles routinely and refuses to punt. So you can just imagine where the smart money is....

Humble in Victory, Proud in Defeat

2007-02-03T11:00:00.000-08:00

And so it came to pass, in the winter of 2007, that Celtic pride reached a new low, while setting a new franchise record for consecutive losses. And from where I sit, the end appears nowhere in sight. This current losing streak is not quite so dramatic as Danny Ainge's 0-13 start with the Phoenix Suns a decade ago (which spawned the following joke: "Knock, Knock" "Who's there?" "Owen." "Owen who?" "Owen Thirteen....") But like a lot of fair-weather West Coast ex-pats, I've pretty much stopped even watching, since the Celtics can't even seem to figure out new ways to lose... preferring to falter in the old-fashioned way night after night after night. It's pretty pathetic, actually. And I find little comfort in the fact that the team will be better in the future, while for the time being at least it's easy to get tickets.

Meanwhile, saw two other games this past week, both of which left me feeling very inspired. The first was the Oregon/UCLA rematch in Pauley Pavilion Thursday night. Earlier this year the Ducks beat the Bruins in Mac Court by a bucket, in what was one of the most exciting college games I've seen all year. Thursday night, with John Wooden in the house, I had few doubts that sixth-ranked UCLA would be sufficiently motivated to insure a different outcome on their own home court, but even so it was gratifying to see the ninth-ranked Ducks hang with them, battling back and battling back but just never quite getting over the hump. The California kids were just a little quicker to the ball all night long, which caused the kids from Eugene to rush their shots just enough to turn normally routine baskets into near misses. Move quickly, but never hurry Coach Wooden used to say. But the Ducks had to hurry to keep up with the Bruins, and in the end they lost by a dozen.

The second game was between our local private High School and their traditional North Shore rival, a team now coached by our team's former coach. The opponents got up early 4-2, then the home team put on their press, reeled off seven straight points and never looked back. I try to watch these kids every chance I get, even though I don't have a kid on the team myself; and it's been lots of fun watching them develop and mature, both as individual players and as a team. Their execution Friday night was almost perfect, and they ended up beating a very good rival by a very wide margin. I'd almost forgotten how good a victory like that can feel. But then again, I haven't experienced that many of them.

One of the drawbacks of playing a lot of pick-up ball is that after awhile victory or defeat don't really seem to matter all that much. Sure, there may be a little playing time at stake in those games where the winners keep the court and the losers wait for "next," and pride of course is always a factor, but I've played in Junior Varsity practices that had more intensity than most of over-35 pick-up games I play in now, and I guess on some level at least I prefer it that way. Aerobics for Middle-Aged Men one of my buddies calls our game, and I guess that's an OK thing. Too much intensity and competitiveness is actually frowned upon; nobody wants to get hurt out there, and the bickering that generally seems to accompany too competitive an attitude just detracts from everyone's playing time... not to mention the enjoyment of the game.

But I also have to confess, I sometimes miss it. It sometimes pisses me off when guys don't D-up, when they basket-hang and don't share the ball, can't be bothered to fight over the top of screens, or don't step through after making a pass. Of course, it also sometimes bugs me when guys crash the offensive boards too aggressively, or make the hard foul in order to prevent an easy lay-up. And of course, I have also been guilty of both sets of infractions myself many times. So I guess I'm just a hoop hypocrite. But this slogan, "humble in victory, proud in defeat" really says a lot to me. It's good to win, but it's also good to be a good winner: to respect the skill and competitiveness of your opponent, and to recognize that "all glory is fleeting." And it's good as well to be able to hold your head high in defeat, knowing that you left it all out there on the floor, and have nothing to be ashamed of. Because at the end of the day, it really isn't about whether you win or lose. It's how you play the game....

Style Points

2007-01-30T04:39:00.000-08:00

OK, notwithstanding my own old school, fundamental basketball affectations, I enjoy creative "flashy" play as much as the next guy. It's become an important part of the game: the behind-the-back no-look pass, the backdoor alley-oop, the strong, in-your-face finish with a high-flying dunk. Sure, sometimes these things go embarrassingly wrong, which always brings the "Fundamentalists" to their feet in smug, self-righteous "I told you so" indignation. But when they go right, they are magnificent things of beauty to behold -- an eloquent testimony to the athleticism of the people who play this game at the highest level, and whose "skills" embody not just good technique, but the authentic work of real artists.

I'm certainly not the first person to compare basketball to jazz. The dynamic interplay of innovative improvisation within a familiar structure is a large part of what makes both what they are, and the better one understands the latter, the more appreciative you are of the first. Mastery of technique simply creates greater opportunities for creativity itself, as with any art form. Basketball players leap into the air with the grace and power of a Baryshnikov, only they carry a ball with them and improvise their movements spontaneously in the moment. And when you have five artists playing together, sharing the ball as they move as one mind in complex patterns to surprise both their opponents and their appreciative observers...well, all I can say is who needs "The Nutcracker?"

On the home front here, a very satisfying run last night. Suddenly occurred to me that just because we've moved our starting time up to 7:30 didn't mean I had to scramble to get ready by starting to dress as if we were still playing at 8:00, and then rushing out of the house. So I actually dressed early and arrived at the gym about a quarter past seven, where I found several other players already there warming up. Had a chance to stretch more thoroughly, and even to shoot around a little...and it really made all the difference in the world. Still had a fairly rough night shooting from the field, but I knocked down important shots when I needed to, and at least my misses weren't humiliatingly off-the-mark. Was a little more lackadaisical on defense than usual, I think in part because I got on a team with a couple of guys not generally known for playing tenacious "D" and just didn't feel like trying to do it all myself. But it was kind of nice to watch them both step up, and we won some games that we really had no business winning simply because we were able to get the most out of the players we had, including the two guys who would much rather basket-hang or launch a deep three than show over the top of a screen when defending a pick-and-roll.

Best play of the evening...or at least the best that I was involved in. Stole the ball from a defensive rebounder when he put it on the floor to try to start the break, threw a quick pass into the lane to a teammate who'd seen the steal and was flashing to the basket, which was deflected by another defender who managed to get his hand into the passing lane at the last moment, beat THAT player in the scramble to the loose ball, and without ever really getting both hands on the pumpkin, made a quick, one-handed pass back to my original teammate, who was at that point standing all alone under the basket, for an easy lay-up. Just like we'd drawn it up that way.

I know I'm never going to be able to finish a fast break with a high-flying jam, but you know, it doesn't really matter, I can still be creative, I can still improvise and innovate, I can still play at the highest level of MY ability, and bring out the best in those around me. It's all good. Actually, it's better than good. It's fan-tastic....

The Minister of Defense

2007-01-25T06:06:00.000-08:00

One of my friends told me last night that I have a new nickname, "The Minister of Defense," which actually delighted me to no end, on what turned out to be yet another rather pathetic night on the offensive end. Knocked down a gorgeous three early on (which pulled us even for the first time, and put us in a position to eventually win the game), but then shot nothing but bricks and airballs for the next 45 minutes, until I finally had an opportunity to finish a 2 on 1 break with a lay-up, and then ended the night by hitting a little 10-foot baseline jumper (which I thought I'd missed when it left my hand) to win the last game of the evening. But I also missed two other break-away lay-up opportunities (both off steals I'd made in the open court -- one an EASY left-hander when I just couldn't pick-up my dribble, and the other an even easier finger-roll at the rim which I'm not sure HOW I missed), and also fumbled a pass that would have been a third lay-up (yup -- shot the ball before I caught it), and even had a shot blocked when I tried to out-jump a shorter player down on the left block, and discovered that nowadays I don't jump quite as high as I remember.

But the defensive end was much more satisfying. The two steals I mentioned earlier, plus I was able to force a couple of other turnovers by beating oponents to their spots and causing them to travel; made several deflections and intercepted a few passes, closed some strong traps, that sort of thing. And it's killing me to be in such poor "game-shape," knowing how much better I could be playing if I would just take the time and make the effort to do the strength and conditioning work. But I need to be honest too. I can't really afford to put basketball at the center of my life right now. I'm a grown-up. I have a whole OTHER life that basketball has to stand in line behind.

It's also kinda hard for me NOT to grow frustrated with my teammates when they DON'T play good "D" and habitually throw-up ill-advised shots, refuse to share the ball, make stupid turnovers, over-dribble, and generally play poor fundamental hoop. And here's the irony, of course. When I can't run the floor as effortlessly as I might wish, it's not really fair for me to criticize others for not getting back on defense. When I routinely look to thread the ball through tight passing lanes in order to make a dramatic assist, it's hard to criticize others for attempting to do the same. I certainly make more than my fair share of TOs, even though (subjectively at least) I also feel like I see the floor and execute those passes a lot better than many of the other guys I play with -- guys who just don't seem to have quite as much "court sense" as I do. But when all is said and done, I find myself standing out on the perimeter with my arms in the air far too often to complain that my teammates don't move without the ball....

In any event, I worked up a sweat, didn't get hurt, had a good time and probably burned at least a FEW extra calories. So, no complaints and no regrets. Life is good, and I guess at my age, that's all that really matters.

Strength & Conditioning

2007-01-17T15:02:00.000-08:00

So, these never really were exactly the strongest part of my athletic career. Never really cared much for the weight room, and cared even less for the various means various coaches devised to improve my stamina. Windsprints. Stairs. Hills. Suicides... You get the picture. And of course, as a kid, I never really noticed I was tired even when I was. Performance was all about "skills." And if I had the skills, why should I have to run or pump iron?

Of course, nowadays I'm much more sensitive to the relationship between conditioning and performance. And since my former is shit, my latter is following suit. Back this week in earnest for the first time since before the holidays. Monday night I knocked down my first shot from the field, and then it was a nightmare for the next hour or so...air balls, missed lay-ups, way too many stupid turnovers. Played OK "D" for awhile, and even blocked a shot while defending on the ball one-on-one, but my legs felt like lead and my shots landed like bricks.

Started to get a bit of a second wind with about a half-hour left to play, after making a FANTASTIC, play-of-the-night left-handed pass off the dribble and across the lane in traffic while leading a break, but unfortunately my teammate bobbled it slightly and by the time he found the handle his momentum had carried him behind the backboard. So, lots of oohs and aahs but no points and thus no assist -- but still, it gave me just the lift I needed to play with just that much more energy, and suddenly shots started falling for me -- including the last, game-winning "J" of the evening while my buddy Curly waited down in the lane on his heels, afraid to come out and defend me because he knew I'd go right by him.

Tonight was almost the exact opposite story. Got to the gym early enough to stretch and warm up thorougly, then got in with a group of guys who just had good chemistry and who played together well: good ball movement, good shot selection, good help defense. Won three in a row, and just felt great...knocked down my open looks, made some great assists, rebounded, defended, ran the floor. But as the night wore on and my legs started to go, suddenly I couldn't really keep up with the pace of the game any more, all my shots were short-armed off the front rim (or worse)...and then, at the end, missed a wide-open look at a three that would have won the last game, only to have my guy knock down the winner on the other end when I couldn't stay with him and fight through a screen.

But you know, win or lose, glory or goat, I still feel GREAT! No injuries, a nice healthy run, plenty of good plays and nothing too humiliating. So what could possibly cause me to complain?

I just wish I could somehow find within me the desire and the discipline to strengthen and condition more than what's left of my hair....

"Feed the dog...

2006-12-31T14:35:00.000-08:00

spit in the fire, lock up your daughters, turn on the radio, sit down and shut up, 'cause it's GAME TIME people!" Just another great line of dialog from NBC's "Friday Night Lights," which the network in its infinite wisdom has decided to move to Wednesday nights at 8 pm, just so it will conflict with my regular basketball time. Oh well, I may finally have to break down and buy a TiVo. Or at least hook up my VCR....

I'm not sure why I've been enjoying this program so much. I've never really cared that much for the "jock culture" epitomized by High School football, despite having played three years worth myself when I was in High School. Well, maybe I should say I played a year's worth of ball in three years, just to be precise. This opinion wasn't really improved by the four years I spent in Midland Texas, where they take "schoolboy" football to a whole other level. The book on which the movie on which the TV series is based was written about the Odessa Permian Panthers (who were the down-the-tracks rivals of our town's football team, the Midland Lee Rebels), and was published shortly after I arrived there. Lee/Permian games were a BIG DEAL in West Texas, routinely drawing tens of thousands of spectators and tens of thousands more radio listeners. One year, when the two teams met during the World Series, the local TV station chose to show the baseball game on a tape delay so that they could broadcast the High School Football game live. No, really.

The TV series has done an excellent job of capturing that atmosphere, although if anything it sugar coats it some. All the cliches are there -- the Blue Chip prospect whose future dreams are dashed by a career-ending spinal cord injury. The sophomore back-up plunged into a situation over his head, and struggling but succeeding. The cheerleader girlfriend, the bad-boy best friend, the young black tailback juicing in hopes of a college scholarship and a chance to pull his family out of poverty. But the young actors are making their roles three-dimensional, while the writing itself is strong and the dialog fantastic. It's just a fun show to watch -- and the football sequences themselves are a joy. And then there are the boosters, the pressures on both the kids and the coaches (whose livelihoods rest in the hands of teenagers), and of course the tragic tales heard again and again in these small towns in West Texas, of men whose lives hit their highest point before their 18th birthday. It's hard to go on to working in the oilpatch when once you were worshipped like a god. And so the cycle repeats, as old men recapture the frustrated dreams of their own youth through the promising young lives of their offspring.

Anyway, I suspect the show will continue to evolve and improve, although it will be interesting to see whether it can sustain itself (like the West Wing) from season to season season after season. But I hope it finds a larger audience on Wednesdays, because the show really deserves it. Clear Eyes, Full Hearts, Can't Lose

Snow Job?

2006-12-23T05:11:00.000-08:00

And it's kind of reassuring to realize that I wasn't the only one to notice that amost immediately in the aftermath of the announcement of the Alan Iverson trade to the Denver Nuggets, the Mile High City was buried under two feet of snow. What does this mean? I haven't the slightest idea; go ask a shaman, or maybe a meteorologist. Meanwhile last night in the Garden, the Answerless Sixers defeated a Truthless Celtics squad in what must have been one of the most uninspiring displays of basketball this holiday season.

Back at my health club (where the Celtics also practice), I ran into a guy who used to play regularly in our Monday/Wednesday over-35 pick-up game, but hasn't been seen for awhile. Turns out he has issues with the same guys I do, and has decided that "at our age" who needs the aggrevation? It's a shame though, because this is a strong player with sound fundamentals, good court sense, a nice soft touch from about 15 feet in, and who can score around the basket with either hand. Plus he lets his game doing his talking for him, rather than constantly running his mouth. A great teammate and a tough opponent, and an inspiration to those of us who need an occasional reminder that just because we've gotten older doesn't mean we have to let ourselves get fat and lazy too.

In any event, I've got children older than Alan Iverson, which makes it a little uncomfortable to listen to sportscasters speculate about whether or not he's "past his prime." And I also have the inspiration of guys my own age who still got game, and who work out regularly to keep it sharp.

Lit up like a...

2006-12-21T13:15:00.000-08:00

metaphors fail me. Tough, tough, TOUGH time defending last night -- seems like even when I was there to challenge the shot they were going down anyway, which ignores all the times I was simply back-cut, crossed-over, beaten down-court and late to the party. Didn't seem to matter who I was trying to guard either -- they all used me like a...metaphors fail me...on their way to individual scoring records.

And yet somehow, we still managed to win and keep winning. Better ball movement I guess, plus some hot shooters (of whom I was not one -- I basically only scored once last night, another one-handed shot that bounce on the rim four times before finally falling through). And I did contribute to the passing, which I guess is something.

I know that part of the problem was the week-long lay-off, plus the few extra pounds I've put on for the holidays on top of the extra pounds I carry around normally, plus the fact that I was wearing my orthotics for the first time all year (which was great for my back but also left me feeling a little uncertain of my footing). And now it will be another week before I play again (after probably gaining another few pounds). But what the heck. It's just a game. And last night was just another run....

and the Answer is...

2006-12-20T05:51:00.000-08:00

...a Nugget. Alan Iverson, Carmelo Anthony, and George Karl...this could be interesting. Either way. Two talented thirty point scorers, each wanting the ball, and a brilliant but volatile coach not known himself for playing well with others. Of course, there is the Olympic experience...and the natural desire to make nice in the first days of a new relationship. But it's not so much the 60 points as it is the shot attempts they both will need in order to put up those kinds of numbers on a regular basis. If they can learn to make each other better this is going to be fantastic. But if they just end up competing to be 'the Man," this deal might just turn out to be a Mile-High Nightmare.

In any event, the Little Guy now has the team to himself for a month, while "Melo Yellow" serves out that 15 game suspension for his sucker punch against the Knicks. The Sixers get veteran point guard Andre Miller, cap relief and future draft choices. The guy I feel most sorry for is rookie Ivan McFarlin, thrown in by Philadelphia to make the numbers work. Denver didn't even ask him to take a physical, which means he will probably be waived and released. Maybe he's good enough to catch on with another team, or maybe he's headed for the developmental league or overseas. But his NBA career may well be over before it even got started. All because a superstar thinks it's OK to blow off practice.

AI, Synthetic Balls, and a Rumble in the Garden

2006-12-18T20:30:00.000-08:00

So here's the 17.1 million dollar question: where will The Answer be playing in 2007? Clearly not in the city of Brotherly Love, where they've already cleaned out his locker and removed his nameplate from the door. Both the Nuggets and the Knicks were said to be in the hunt, but who knows how this latest bit of Zeke-inspired "Bad Boys" deja vu is going to influence those possibilities. Eight suspensions and over a million dollars in fines -- all apparently because one coach felt the other was trying to run up the score, and encouraged his own players to get tough and stand up for themselves. Pride and that street-smart playground need for "respect" apparently still trump all, including both the threat of six-figure fines or a career-ending injury which would make those seven-figure paychecks simply a nostalgic memory.

The new ball/old ball "controversy" has been fascinating. Nearly bought one myself out of curiosity back in October, but they were a hundred bucks apeice and since I knew then they wouldn't take, I've been waiting around until they get marked down as obsolete inventory. Of course, for all I know they are probably now collectors items on e-Bay.

I'm a little embarrassed to say this, but my house is now overrun with basketballs -- 25 at latest count, only one of which (the oldest) is actual leather. Of course, I'm still a big fan of the old ABA red, white and blue "beachball" (which one of the guys I play with calls "that Globetrotter ball"), although most recently I've been playing with a black & brown variation manufactured in Thailand by Nike and called "the Tactician" because of its special, high-grip synthetic indoor/outdoor cover which allows even someone like me to palm the rock. As a shooter I love to be able to see the rotation of the ball as it arcs towards the hole, and if I can see it in rainbow color so much the better. But most true ballers seem to be a little put off by so much flash. They want pumpkins they can sweat on.

The Celtics would love to have Iverson, but they don't really want to give up anyone to get him. Miami is already loaded, but I'm guessing that both Gary Payton and Jason Williams would quickly be history if AI moved to South Beach. A deal to the Bobcats was reportedly vetoed by Iverson himself, while the Timberwolves would love to make a deal that would bring AI and KG together in Minnesota, but don't really have anything in the way of players or draft choices to offer the Sixers in return. Which brings us back to Gotham or the Mile High City. And the Answer sitting home for Christmas, waiting for the phone to ring.

thirteen

2006-12-14T14:24:00.000-08:00

Came home from last night's run so disgusted with myself that I was ready to throw my shoes in the trash, burn all my basketball clothes, and NEVER EVER pick up the pumpkin again. Two buckets last night --TWO -- along with some VERY ugly misses, more heinous turnovers than I can count or care to describe, shit defense...the works. The four points came on a little left-handed jump hook in the center of the lane, which literally bounced on the rim three times before finally falling through, and an easy open jumper from the right elbow -- not unlike the handful of others I missed from the exact same spot both before and after. As for the rest: bricks, air balls short, or off the front rim, wide left off the side of my hand, flat off the back rim...if there's a way to miss a shot, I used it. But at least I didn't have anything blocked. At least they were all in theory good, open looks.

My knees remind me almost daily that I'm rapidly approaching (if not already past) the age where it is time to pick up golf clubs and begin working to screw up my back. I know I would be much better off simply walking the dog or riding my bike, swimming, hiking, cross-country skiing. But I keep looking around at the guys older than me who are still out there running the floor, and I think that maybe I have a few more runs in me still as well. But God my knees ached this morning. And my pride. And if that weren't enough, I also jammed the pinky on my left hand, which has now become a lovely shade of black and blue. That'll teach me to be the thirteenth guy to show up at the game, on the thirteenth of the month....

How Does a 30 point blow-out become a 3 point nail-biter?

2006-12-12T05:24:00.000-08:00

Don't ask me. I could hardly bear to watch. But I do know that if the Knicks had played defense in the first quarter with the same intensity that they did in the fourth, and shot free throws as well as a High School Girl's team, this game wouldn't even have been close.

Still, it's a little sad to see these two once-proud franchises fallen on such hard times. The Stephon/Sebastian match-up is always fun to watch though...a little "family feud" action goin' on there I think...and the Doc Rivers/Isiah Thomas match-up is kinda fun too...although not nearly so much fun as when they were wearing shorts instead of ties. Is the real problem with both these teams simply that these two once-great point guards can't seem to communicate effectively with these two wannabe great point guards what they want to have happen on the floor? And whose fault is that?

Hell, there's probably more than enough blame to go around here I'm sure. But I will say this: I think it's very difficult to make the adjustment from being the guy who always wants the ball in nis hands at crunch time to being a guy who will NEVER touch the ball in crunch time, and has to get it done through other guys. Which is a roundabout way of once again contrasting the differences between "doing" and "teaching" -- and the difficulty of doing the latter when the former is all you've ever really wanted to do.

Quick Hands, Slow Feet

2006-12-11T13:16:00.000-08:00

And actually, the truth be told, it's all about anticipation.

Another measly 9 point night, on four for God-Knows shooting. Two pretty, two ugly. The pretty buckets: a nice three in rhythm from the top of the key, and an uncontested lay-up when I jumped a passing lane, tipped the ball downcourt and ran it down for an easy score. Actually looked like a real basketball player on those two plays, which made me very happy.

The ugly? Well, a little eight-foot jumper from the left baseline which left my hand flat, grazed off the front rim, and then popped straight up and fell through the hoop when I YELLED at it to GET IN! And then another uncontested lay-up cherry-picking at the offensive end, because I was just too darn winded to get back on D.

And again, a few strong rebounds, more than my usual share of turn-overs, but one very beautiful assist which threaded the needle and hit my teammate right in the hands at a spot on the baseline where he could simply lay it up in stride.

It does get frustrating sometimes not to be able to do the things on the floor I used to be able to do without thinking. I understand that I am old, fat, slow, lazy, out of shape and all the rest...but I generally just try to play within myself and have a good time anyway. And even if I were to loose weight, and hit the weight room regularly, I'm still not getting any younger, and I'll never be in the same kind of shape I was in my twenties or even my thirties. But sometimes experience and anticipation helps me compensate a little. If I know what my opponent is going to do before he does, that gives me a big advantage. And if I can make my teammates better by doing the subtle little things that are often left undone, that gives me an advantage too. Or at least that's what I tell myself.

As I was taking off my shoes and getting ready to go home at the end of last night's run, another player noticed one of those dry erase clipboards in the bottom of my gymbag, which I used to diagram plays when I was coaching at the Nantucket Boys & Girls Club. It was kinda funny, cause I'd pretty much forgotten it was even in there -- I was basically just using it to stiffen the bottom of the bag. Still, he seemed oddly impressed -- as if having that board in the bottom of my bag might somehow give me an unfair advantage. I wish. Actually, it's the board I see inside my head that really makes a difference.

Go Figure

2006-12-06T19:45:00.000-08:00

Scored only seven points tonight, but oh what scores! First time I touched the ball, I ran a little pick & pop out behind the three-point line on the right wing, and drained the "Trey" like I've been doing it all my life. Which I guess, in some ways, I have. Then a little later on I had an opportunity to drive the left baseline, and made a little shovel pass to a teammate in the lane, who fumbled the ball, tapped it back over to me as I came out the other side, spun to my left, and hit a little one-handed two-foot floater to win the game. And then finally, bringing the ball up in transition, I saw an opening, made a slight head-fake and drove the lane for a wide-open finger-roll at the rim: the kind of shot I haven't seen on a regular basis in DECADES!

But apart from that, Nada! Missed EVERYTHING else I put up from the field -- some of it quite badly. Even when the ball felt like it was leaving my hand well I was wide left, or short, or...well, after awhile I stopped even getting the touches, much less open looks. But I did play pretty decent defense, rebounded effectively, screened for my teammates, and made some gorgeous assists. And let's face it (as our game "commissioner" puts it), this is all really just aerobics for middle-aged men anyway.

Yet even at my age, there is still a brief window in every run between the time it takes for me to feel properly warmed-up and the time that fatigue sets in and leaves my legs feeling like rubber, when I am still able to turn it on, make that quick first step, pick up my dribble, elevate, and go hard to the hole. It may only last for 30 seconds. But in that ageless instant of peak athletic performance...Pure Bliss!

And if I'm starting to sound like a Cialis ad, so be it.

Fuck the aerobics.

I'm out here to score!