Wednesday, November 22, 2017
Monday, September 18, 2017
NBA ALL-TIME TOP FIVE AT EVERY POSITION
- Earvin "Magic" Johnson
- Oscar Robertson
- Bob Cousy
- John Stockton
- Jason Kidd
- Michael Jordan
- Kobe Bryant
- Jerry West
- Clyde Drexler
- Reggie Miller
- LeBron James
- Larry Bird
- Kevin Durant
- Julius Erving
- Scottie Pippen
- Tim Duncan
- Karl Malone
- Charles Barkley
- Dirk Nowitzki
- Kevin Garnett
- Kareem Abdul-Jabbar
- Bill Russell
- Wilt Chamberlain
- Shaquille O'Neal
- Hakeem Olajuwon
Tuesday, September 5, 2017
However, a lifetime of watching football has taught us that the score, important as it may be to deciding the final outcome, does not always reveal to us exactly how a game transpired. Such is the case with Sunday night's affair between the Bruins and Aggies. Playing in front of a home crowd, the Bruins found themselves in a hole, of the 34-point deficit variety, late in the 3rd quarter. They would rally to win, scoring the game's next five touchdowns for the score that flashed across your screen, as you dozed soundly, already put to bed by the score of 44-10 late in the 3rd quarter.
There have been games in which teams despite winning the turnover or possession battle (you know those little nuances of the game which generally ensure success) still ended up losing to the team that turned the ball over more than they or did more productive things with their time of possession than the team that actually possessed the ball longer. Although infrequent, it seems to happen all the time. This is why I am never blown away when I see a comeback in football. Football seems to mirror life in a multitude of ways almost too numerous to enumerate here.
One particular way in which it does seem to parallel the real world is with regards to late starts and procrastination. People delay and procrastinate all the time. Some, it would seem, thrive on it. It's not a formula one would suggest as the way to success, but it does let you allow the notion that when the task at hand is put off, whether directly or indirectly, there may or may not be the chance that the job can still get done. Dependent now upon how compliant the ancillary components of whatever it is that is trying to be achieved is willing. There still is a chance, and a chance is all you need.
Now back to the Bruins-Aggies game of Sunday night vintage. This particular contest featured another way that a close score, or any score for that matter, could be interpreted. The comeback. A team gets down by a considerable margin to another team only to mount a comeback of extreme proportions often resulting in an epic win soon to become an "instant classic". The term "unanswered points" usually gets bandied about during the broadcast of said event. Enlightening the viewer or tuner of how quickly the tide can turn into an avalanche.
Earlier this year, fans of the NFL were treated to another "epic" comeback, this time on the greatest of stages, the Super Bowl. You would have to be living under a rock to have no idea about what transpired in that particular contest. Down in similar fashion, with regards to time and score, the New England Patriots overcame a 25-point deficit at the hands of the Atlanta Falcons, ultimately emerging victorious and hoisting yet another Lombardi trophy.
So, it happens. Teams race out to big leads based upon what seems like their opponent's taking to heart the notion of "Murphy's Law". Anything that can and will go wrong does, resulting in huge deficits. However sometimes the football gods are in the business of leveling the playing field and "Murphy's Law", momentum, the tide, or whatever you want to call it decides to change dancing partners. It is then that the outcome which was played out in Super Bowl LI, and most recently this past Sunday night in California, becomes a reality. No one questions how scoring happens when one team gets down and another goes up, but yet questions abound when the team that was down gets up and the team that was up gets down as far as the score is concerned. Life has taught us at times that "things were all good just a week ago." Things change and life changes with it. Same as in sports, same as in football. Professional or collegiate. No one ever says: "Things were all good just a half ago. Just a quarter ago. Heck, just five minutes ago." But they should.
"This is why you play the game...", or something close to that is what the great broadcaster Chris Berman trained us on when any two opponents collide on any given Sunday, or any given Saturday for that matter. With apologies to Mr. Berman, "...and this is why you play the game until it's over..." should be the other part of that great saying. Expecting a certain outcome before a game commences is one thing. After all, expectation is the mother of disappointment. Is it not? Expecting a certain outcome once a football game starts and begins to develop? Well now, that's just sheer torture. The type of torture that both Bruins and Aggies fans were feeling on Sunday night.
Sunday, August 6, 2017
The worst kind of writer that you can be is the type of writer that I have been: one who does not write. So then, how could I call myself a writer?
In elementary school a teacher once shared with the class the notion that "what you are to be, you are now becoming." I did not totally grasp the severity of the situation at that time, but as with most things in life you begin to understand the deeper meaning of words and events through time and experience, and this particular scenario is no different. What I am to be I have now become, a writer who has not written.
Well not a writer who has not written entirely, but rather a writer which has not wrote enough. Not nearly enough. And for this I apologize. Not to you who reads this, and certainly not to I who writes this, but to the stories, the articles, and the essays themselves. For not applying the due diligence to research. For not displaying the ability to focus. But most of all, for not taking the time to just write.
So once again I sincerely apologize. Not that you were waiting. My stories were.
I will not make them wait any longer.
[*Editor's Note: "There will be appearing from the date of this entry archived pieces which were intended for release and consumption earlier."]
Tuesday, February 14, 2017
The 1990s saw the Chicago Bulls win six championships during the decade. The Bulls won back-to-back-to-back titles twice, as those reigns were broken up by some mere mortal's quest to be decent at baseball, ultimately winning their six championships over the span of eight years. The notion that the Bulls would have won eight in a row, while adding Hakeem Olujawon, to the list of Hall of Famers such as Charles Barkley, Karl Malone and John Stockton, Patrick Ewing, Gary Payton to succumb at the hands of the aforementioned mortal, stands as plausible. Imagine if the 90s did provide eight consecutive titles crafted by Michael Jordan and Phil Jackson. It would be akin to the Boston Celtics era of dominance in the 1960s provided by the efforts of the incomparable Bill Russell and Red Auerbach. These two dynasties during the height of their powers gave NBA fans at the time the same result over and over, whether they wanted it or not. Whether good or bad for the league, it is what it was. The same way in which it continues to be it is what it is today.
To say that the state of the NBA as it pertains to winning a championship or two is monopoly-driven endeavor, would be to acknowledge the history of how championships are one and spread out amongst not the entire league on a whole, but to a special select few franchises. Namely those that have been able to field teams which combine great teamwork and coaching with superstar talent and the killer-instincts that accompany said talent. The teams who fall under this distinction are those whom we name readily when it comes time to talk about just who has hoisted a championship banner in their respective arena's rafters. The aforementioned Celtics of the 60s fit the bill. The Los Angeles Lakers and (once again) Celtics teams of the 80s do as well. The previously referred to Bulls of the 90s are revered to the point of worship. The Lakers of the first three years of the new millennium take a backseat to no one. And the San Antonio Spurs and Miami Heat teams of recent memory give of fresh reminders of just how this thing works. In short, everyone gets invited to the party, but not everyone gets to dance.
As this season reaches the All-Star break, the fact that this campaign is more than halfway complete is a notion that is not lost amongst both players and fans alike, although both entities may process the thought in entirely different manners. For the player, to know where his team currently stands, and to understand what lies ahead within reason and within expectation; the opportunity to substantiate or create anew the narrative that this season is becoming, his is the perspective of faith and hope. The fans do the same as well, although their approach is one of hope and prayer. For some a hope that we get the championship round we all expect, and for others a prayer that this is not the beginning of a back-to-back-to-back-to back (well you get the idea) and forth between the Cavaliers and Warriors that completely excludes their own teams. You know, the ones that never get invited to dance that last dance.
The season is a prelude. Although it differs greatly from a book already printed for publishing, words, letters, and characters deeply embedded and unchangeable, an NBA season is quite similar in its structure and presentation. The difference between the two is subtle, yet sublime. The difference? The ink has already dried on the pages of the literary work of art. The ink is still drying on the pages of the annals of NBA history. Already written. Awaiting the drying breaths of air to be drawn and blown from the lips of players on teams that were already written.