So, there’s this cheese I really like that I can only get at one place in town.
Gouda with truffles. Damn expensive, but so tasty I treat myself more often than I should.
Went to get some the other week, and the store was out, said they’d have another shipment in a month or so. Settled for something else the fromage expert behind the counter suggested . . .
. . . which was OK, but not what I really craved.
You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometime you find you get what you need.
So, though college hoops is my jam, more than I can ever remember I’ve been locked into the NBA playoffs. Which attention was fostered by the breakout play of Donovan Mitchell and Terry Rozier, both of whom are going to be really rich sooner than later, which hopefully will inure to U of L basketball’s benefit.
So I’m hoping for a Cavs W or deux to prolong the season.
Immersing myself, at least for the time being in the pro game, even with the 2 1/2+ step drives to the hoop. Battles underneath the board that would qualify as warfare under the Geneva Accords. Defensive checking on the perimeter that are defined as 2d Degree Assault under the Kentucky Revised Statutes.
But it’s not like these play for pay guys don’t know how to play, the occasional J.R. Smith brain fart notwithstanding. Watching Steph Curry bust his hump to get open, and trigger that quick release to launch those laser-precise bombs. Watching long tall Kevin Durant net J after J. Which is not to give short shrift to the other Splash Bro, relatively indestructable Klay Thompson. Or Shaun Livingston, the $8 mill/ season super sub, who hasn’t missed a shot yet in the Finals.
And then there is King LeBron, who is indeed royalty, the current heir to the throne. Blessed that he plays in an era when he can locomotive to the hoop like a runaway train with Eric Roberts aboard. Or drain those absurd turnaround treys, and off balance fallaways going the wrong way off the wrong foot. Or thread a thirty foot no look pass to a breaking teammate, who may or may not convert.
I’m not going to get in the argument of whether James is the GOAT or not. What I know is he’s among the handful legitimately in the discussion. I do know that he stands with Tiger Woods as the youth phenom of my lifetime who has met and exceeded all Everest altitude expectations.
I’m not going to get into the officiating. To use an overworked phrase, it is what it is. If they want to allow players to bludgeon each other when cutting across the lane, or change a judgement call after replay, so be it.
It’s the only game we got . . . until that The Tournament thing later this summer.
I’m for the Warriors, despite the way they often play with detached arrogance. But, I’d love for the Cavs to make it a series for selfish reasons.
I simply want mo’ than fo’.
* * * * *
Is Nickelberry our new favorite flavor?
Absolutely, even if we haven’t a clue how it tastes.
Chris Mack and his guys have been workin’ to make it work.
I’ve opinionized that it would take several seasons at least before the Cards could make any significant dent on the recruiting trail. And here the new regime has gone and gotten a commitment from a Top 60 shooting guard. Kewl.
Don’t that fresh air smell sweet?
* * * * *
Forgetting all the other stuff attendant to last autumn’s not so Yummy! armageddon, I simply observe this. (My oft stated prejudices and perspective in full force.)
In the wake of the purge, Tom Jurich has handled himself with decency and aplomb. I’m not going to get into the settlement, just say I like how he’s dealt with the situation.
While Rick Pitino has handled himself as the self serving, narcissistic guy I’ve always thought him to be. Hope all Cardinal fans were able to enjoy Derby weekend, despite the absence of You Know Whom.
* * * * *
89 Days to kickoff.
(Thanks to Glorious Editor for counting it down for me on an earlier post. Saved me from pulling out a calendar and abacus.)
Be sure to have your life vests fully operational for the opener. The Cards will be lining up against that tsunami known as Roll Tide.
-- Seedy K