both blogs played hard
good evening, opening-tip eve! how ya feelin’? last night i dreamed that i was working out a trade proposal to bring MF DOOM to my basketball team. some sort of drafting miscue left him off my squad! hard to believe but he was there in the early-middle rounds, and i had my eye on him! but somehow the lines got crossed and i missed out. after that, it was time to work on a trade. so i put my assistants to work writing out the contractual legal-ese. “we gotta have the math right”, i thought. meanwhile i hopped on the horn and spread buttery gospel to my colleague’s ears. i had to have my way. we worked hard to keep the core of my team intact, while still bringing DOOM into the fold. the deal didn’t get completed in time, but early indications led reporters to believe that it was only a matter of time (and probably a fistful of dollars). when i awoke much too early, my first four words were, directed particularly at no one, “basketball… basketball, basketball. basketball.” seriously.
you see, basketball and the nba is a unique figment of reality that can always, instantly fill me with purity. i don’t typically try explaining this to people, like a misunderstood teenager. yet i am perpetually fascinated by this game. i constantly check for minuscule updates. i’m easily transfixed on any game. basketball is a version of eloquence to me. if you can’t (at least try to) speak it, we might end up having trouble communicating. i can’t feign interest in whatever you’re trying to change the subject to. so i’ll just allow you to lead the conversation from the jump.
i despise seeing careless play. i need fluidity and chaos! i need beautiful passes! it’s a matter of regulating my sanity. i want to watch a team swing the ball to the weak side. is that too much to ask? i want to watch a hapless defender panic. i want to see a box out that doesn’t retrieve a rebound for that player, but falls safely into the hands of a teammate. that’s my brand of simple pleasures. i like to point out the moment when a play is busted. i find joy in detecting the body language of a player at the moment they lose confidence in their ability. most people follow the sage who has picked out his hopeless prey, and i count myself among them. it is not sheer dominance that intrigues me though. if someone dominates the ball, i trade my clean and excitable happiness for anger and dread. i don’t watch zach randolph, i watch everyone that stops moving when the ball goes to him. their arms go down, feet get flat, they give up. i can’t set a back-screen at the high post, or cut to the rim anticipating an offensive rebound, but i can’t quit! and i always need more.
tomorrow is a mini-monumental day in my marginally-marvelous life. it’s not the day that i get nba league pass. i can’t even afford a tv. i can scarcely pay my rent right now. but i’m poised and confident. prepared for what this way comes. and if you stay very still….. you can feel a new hunt. the premiere of a new season. 82 pheasants trembling in the bush before us. i’m ready to rustle the leaves and fire away. and i know where my allegiance is held.
hey clyde, ubiquitous!
