Warriors Can't Do What I Can!?

One of the primary reasons I love watching NBA basketball is they can do things that I realize are almost impossible: fade-away threes, no-look passes, alley-oop dunks. I have played a lot of basketball and I am still delighted when I make a layup or hit a short jumper.

The fact that the Warriors could barely make half their free throws--when I can do that--made the loss particularly frustrating. The misses also remind me that Baron Davis will never be a great player until he can consistently make his free throws.

Why don't any of the lousy free throw shooters in the NBA try shooting
Rick Barry style? Why is a very tall, very strong, good looking athlete worried about being labeled a sissy, or some other silly pejorative, for trying to improve their game?

However, I chose to play Wednesday-night basketball rather than watch the game. I also did not freak and demand radio silence when Blake turned on his radio. Watching on DVR was less important than not messing with everyone else's interest in knowing what was going on--the needs of the game prevail. I didn't play well, and slightly twisted my ankle, but felt healthy and spent after running for almost 1 1/2 hours.

The Basketball Gods Smile!

WARRIORS BEAT MAVERICKS--103-99; UP 3 TO 2 IN BEST OF SEVEN SERIES!

This is Robert and I at the conclusion of the Warriors huge game 4 victory over the highly-favored Dallas Mavericks. Robert and I have been attending games under various ticket plans and seen a lot of gloriously bad teams get their butts kicked.

We have enjoyed the spectacle of the best athletes in the world and reveled in our suffering of investing emotion in a team that has the worst luck in the league. We are not alone.

The crowd at this game was literally deafening. The Warriors' come-from-behind victory was incredible theater--drama, surprise, humor and the little guys beat the big guys!

This is a picture of Mark Cuban, the billionaire owner of the Mavericks. He is an arrogant SOB who concludes arguments with lines like "Yes, but how much are you worth?"

A lot less than you, Cuban, but I was ecstatic on Sunday night and you were depressed.