Facial Hair
This is me, in California's central valley, trying to look cool. I certainly felt cool. But I was in the middle of nowhere and hadn't done anything particularly cool that day.
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Such is a ho-hum 100-90 win over the Timberwolves. Against a team that had nothing in the tank, had just lost Corey Brewer for the season (not even Rotoworld bothered to post about that until the afternoon after the injury), and which might be the worst team in the league this side of the OKC Distant Rumblings, the victory is less impressive than relieving. I'm relieved we finally got a relatively easy win, our first since shutting down Miami at home the second game of the season.
First things first. The Official GF of Rufus on Fire and I were upgraded to midcourt, three rows behind the scorer's table, because last night was our season ticket section's pregame party, where we met our account executive. Much thanks to Cedric for hooking us up and putting us on the floor level, where we could see the sweat and hear the coaches' conversations with officials.
The team played as harmoniously as I've seen them play this year. Emeka had a huge game, going for 24/10, blocking 5 shots, and generally discouraging the T-Wolves' big men. Richardson did Richardson things, with two alley-oops and three bombs from beyond the arc. He did struggle with defending Mike Miller, who put up a 19/10 night, but with Al Jefferson bringing nothing to the table against Emeka, Miller was the lone bright spot for the visitors. Lest anyone gloss it over, Raymond Felton was tremendous, with 14 points, 14 assists, and he had more blocks (2) than turnovers (1). Gerald had his usual 15/9 plus one devastating two handed takeoff slam. Even Sean May looked like he was rounding into an NBA flow. (Get it? Rounding? Ha ha?) Like I said. Harmonious.
I'll have more about sitting courtside tomorrow, but here are a few random observations from the evening.
-- Rashad McCants is either out of his mind, a savvy method actor on the plane of Clinton Portis, or completely bored by the NBA life. Every time he entered the game, he clapped the hand powder and tossed it in the air, LeBron style. Furthermore, he occasionally pushed his headband up on his forehead like the King does. So, so weird.
-- Larry Brown actually referred to Jason Richardson as "J-Rich". I find this unspeakably amusing. Also amusing? Brown referred to to Nazr Mohammed as "Naz". Or is it "Nas"?
-- Mike Miller sang along to the Rihanna song that plays just before tip off. Who knew?
-- Kevin Love just does his thing. It will never be viscerally impressive to watch the guy, but he held his own, no problem, getting 10/8 in only 22 minutes. When the Timberwolves start trusting him to shoot like they do Ryan Gomes, I can imagine him approaching Carlos Boozer's production.
-- The Official GF caught the t-shirt Adam Morrison threw into the crowd. I think she's developing a crush on a most unlikely object of affection.
This is me, in California's central valley, trying to look cool. I certainly felt cool. But I was in the middle of nowhere and hadn't done anything particularly cool that day.
===
Such is a ho-hum 100-90 win over the Timberwolves. Against a team that had nothing in the tank, had just lost Corey Brewer for the season (not even Rotoworld bothered to post about that until the afternoon after the injury), and which might be the worst team in the league this side of the OKC Distant Rumblings, the victory is less impressive than relieving. I'm relieved we finally got a relatively easy win, our first since shutting down Miami at home the second game of the season.
First things first. The Official GF of Rufus on Fire and I were upgraded to midcourt, three rows behind the scorer's table, because last night was our season ticket section's pregame party, where we met our account executive. Much thanks to Cedric for hooking us up and putting us on the floor level, where we could see the sweat and hear the coaches' conversations with officials.
The team played as harmoniously as I've seen them play this year. Emeka had a huge game, going for 24/10, blocking 5 shots, and generally discouraging the T-Wolves' big men. Richardson did Richardson things, with two alley-oops and three bombs from beyond the arc. He did struggle with defending Mike Miller, who put up a 19/10 night, but with Al Jefferson bringing nothing to the table against Emeka, Miller was the lone bright spot for the visitors. Lest anyone gloss it over, Raymond Felton was tremendous, with 14 points, 14 assists, and he had more blocks (2) than turnovers (1). Gerald had his usual 15/9 plus one devastating two handed takeoff slam. Even Sean May looked like he was rounding into an NBA flow. (Get it? Rounding? Ha ha?) Like I said. Harmonious.
I'll have more about sitting courtside tomorrow, but here are a few random observations from the evening.
-- Rashad McCants is either out of his mind, a savvy method actor on the plane of Clinton Portis, or completely bored by the NBA life. Every time he entered the game, he clapped the hand powder and tossed it in the air, LeBron style. Furthermore, he occasionally pushed his headband up on his forehead like the King does. So, so weird.
-- Larry Brown actually referred to Jason Richardson as "J-Rich". I find this unspeakably amusing. Also amusing? Brown referred to to Nazr Mohammed as "Naz". Or is it "Nas"?
-- Mike Miller sang along to the Rihanna song that plays just before tip off. Who knew?
-- Kevin Love just does his thing. It will never be viscerally impressive to watch the guy, but he held his own, no problem, getting 10/8 in only 22 minutes. When the Timberwolves start trusting him to shoot like they do Ryan Gomes, I can imagine him approaching Carlos Boozer's production.
-- The Official GF caught the t-shirt Adam Morrison threw into the crowd. I think she's developing a crush on a most unlikely object of affection.