Tuesday, November 30, 2010
FALLING INTO WINTER
And sometimes a gray grind, November slips into winter and there’s nothing in mind really, tiny hollow keyboard clicks and tires rolling past outside, the ambient reminder of a cold wet front that’s taken hold. Last night was one of those games that happens in transitory doldrums, tired legs, too many minutes, Andrew still weeks away he says and Phil’s peevish ruminations and the Killer B’s with toxins on a slow charge and Kobe of course, railing against it all in a furious fourth quarter while teammates tried to answer but couldn’t. Two losses in a row once more, a week removed from the other two but not not nearly enough to take away from legitimate train wrecks like the decision bumping shoulders with his coach because he’s not being allowed to just have fun. Sounds like someone needs a timeout corner.
There’s always the lulls, no team plays the perfect game, the beat writers don’t appear to be sharpening their blades yet and I haven’t noticed any torch-wielding blog villagers screaming for implausible trades . The closest thing to an acquisition buzz was some temporary talk about bringing Jake Voskuhl in for vet minimum prorated and maybe 10 mpg. It got squashed like a gnat on a Mercedes though, Jerry Buss doesn’t feel like another dollar-for-dollar daily penalty and it’s hard to blame him, he’s carrying by far the biggest vig in the league. Still, the alternative right now is one Derrick Caracter, a hardworking kid who’d be getting experience in the D-League if it weren’t for the fact that 2/3 of our 7-footers are rehabbing carved-up knees. If you’re going to buy a little rookie insurance it’s not a bad time to actually use it. Then again, I’d have thrown Sasha out there last night and told him to fire at will. We lost anyway, might as well gamble on a Slovenian blitzkrieg with possible eyebrow grooming at the charity stripe.
Tomorrow brings Memphis and Pau should be ready to take on baby brother but it’s followed back-to-back with Houston and there’s bound to be more weary before the welcome respite of one more game over the next five days. While recognizing reasons for seasonal lulls, it’s also good not to view them as excuses. The Spurs are collectively as old as Methuselah and I don’t see them slacking off - they’ve got the league’s best record right now and I fear them more than anybody coming out of the east. Yawning segue into notes from around the league: Westbrook turns down the Slam Dunk contest (smart man), the ‘Toine announces his grand comeback with the Idaho Stampede (aim high, dude), Paul Westphal booted DeMarcus Cousins out of practice today which is as good a way as any to blame somebody else for your own ineptitude (no link necessary) and high-flying linebacker Blake Griffin continues to throw it down. The temperature’s dropping as fast as my eyelids and there's still spellcheck, links and I should probably find a photo of something or other. Stop typing, please.