It was over before we knew it – literally in this case, as few had predicted that both The Panthers and The Tigers would succumb to their lower-ranked opponents. So this Warriors season, which a few days ago seemed so potent, is now over.
While it’s always hollow when your team drops out, this one didn’t hurt so bad. I was trying to figure out why. Because it doesn’t really make sense – why would you feel less saddened by the exit of a team which had come home so strongly, and which spells the end of the Warriors career of some guys you had loved – among them Brent Tate, Steve Price and Wade McKinnon.
The answer’s contained in the fact that the latter two weren’t at Skilled Park to witness our final roll of the dice. McKinnon was down the coast preparing to turn out for his Wests Tigers, while Price never took the field in the pointless final year of his contract, one which hamstrung a club which he claimed to love so dearly with a figurehead on big money who was a distraction at best for their young core.
Tate was a great servant of the club, and I never felt like he was anything less than 100% committed to it. But the trio were our marquee players during the period 2008-2010, likely eating well over a million dollars worth of salary each year. Of the combined 228 games they might have played for the club during that period, they turned out for a combined 111. That’s a shade under half the games we contracted them to play. If you want to know the source of the team’s struggles during that period, that’s a pretty good place to start. Continue reading
New Dunedin mayoral candidate (seriously/excitingly) Aaron Hawkins and Duncan talk live on radio 1 about Warriors rosey playoff hopes, Bill Harrigan’s monumental blunder (and general weirdness) , the ICC cricketer of the year awards (and why Brendan McCullum’s presence makes a farce of them) and the indie-sports coalition discussed by Bethlehem Shoals on Deadspin.com recently.
http://player.soundcloud.com/player.swf?url=http%3A%2F%2Fsoundcloud.com%2Fdeadball%2Fballs-025&secret_url=false BALLS! 025 by Deadball
Heading into last weekend, it seemed the NBA Playoff Marathon was lurching toward the tedium of two chest-thumping juggernauts slugging it out for more prized jewellery; the competitions most decorated club pitted against their most decorated coach. Paul Pierce didn’t even other watching the end of Game Three against Orlando. The lopsided run of the Conference Semi-Finals had proven contagious. Then, A’mare Stoudemire (42 Pts / 11 Rbds) and his be-mulleted Canadian companion – with 17 points and 15 assists – may have gone and made it interesting again. Stoudemire & Nash make a great pair. Mild-mannered, understandably politicised, community minded, fine ball players, and at their best they come close to that other reliable old no-frills pairing of Stockton & Malone (athletically and aesthetically). But as much as my heart is in Phoenix right now, and as much as I love watching Stoudemire stomping on the Lakers, the irresistable lure of nostalgia makes me pine for Arizona’s finest ever power forward personality The Round Mound Of Rebound.
Barkley Shut Up & Jam is often overlooked in the pantheon of great basketball video games. Perhaps rightly so. But what cannot go unnoticed is that, legitimacy aside, it has spawned easily the finest sports game sequel ever produced. Towering over its progenitor, it is the exception that proves the rule. Ladies and gentlemen, familiarise yourself with Tales of Games Presents Barkley Shut Up & Jam: Gaiden, Chapter 1 of the Barkley Hoopz Saga. Check out the majesty of the trailor here.
In short: Sir Charles brings the apocalypse in the form of a Chaos Dunk. Carnage reigns, and basketball is outlawed in the Great Basketball Purge of 2041 – or B-Ballnacht. Flash forward to 2053, another Chaos Dunk goes down, and Barkley – as the obvious culprit – is on the run. Larry Bird is a priest. Vince Carter is a cyborg. Given the ratio of the avatars involved, Mugsy Bogues is conspicuous by his absence. And Air Jordan is the establishment’s enforcer.
As the storm clouds gather around the country, there is narry an excuse to be found for not living out your Neo New York fantasies right now. For more reverent Barkley revelry, check out the review by my good friend Mr David Large, as part of the ongoing 20 Cent Old School Game Review series, originally broadcast on Radio One 91FM in Dunedin, and this one in particular stored half way down this post on Professional Aesthete.
The men above have a combined age of 73, comfortably past pensionable in any nation on this earth, and well past the time when most sportsmen have become figureheads or locker room guys or whatever. Instead this Suns team is two nil up over the NBA’s answer to the Canterbury Crusaders (© Justin Warren), rendering all cheap jokes irrelevant. This Suns team, two years post-D’Antoni and at least three since they should have ceased to be relevant, are suddenly the most logical challenger to the Lakers repeating in the West.
I downloaded the game from bt.davka, only after being driven mental by my non-functional league pass subscription. Once again, do not buy that product. Stay on the illegal buzz. But anyway, something about the way the Suns play the game makes me think they might have the goods to stop the three bad old bears of the Lakers wreaking their havoc. Continue reading
Anyone notice that Milwaukee quietly took the lead in the series against the Hawks?
Any notice that the Milwaukee Bucks have quietly tied the series against the Hawks?