The Evil Donkeys Fight Back
Well, before last night, I was going to post this today:
"Daddy, the Suns are going to win tonight."
"How?"
"By hitting lots of home runs."
"How else?"
"Um, by winning?"
"Yes, but how?"
"A good tiger is going to come out of the sky to help them."
"OK."
"And a maned wolf."
"OK."
"A good one."
Where's your good tiger now, Elijah? Where's your maned wolf now? Don't worry, son, I don't blame you. Kwame Brown won't score 19 in one game again until February, and I doubt Steve Nash will score 10 or less again for the duration of the playoffs.
Oh, by the way, I was at the game last night. At the last second, my brother-in-law's cousin's husband got tickets from a guy he works with sometimes. The tickets were pretty mediocre 200-level jobs, but I was just grateful to be in the building. I also got to eat in the Stadium Club, where I brushed against Donald Trump. He was wearing a suit and I was wearing my Amare Stoudamire jersey and a vintage blue leather jacket.
The Donald checked me out.
"Where'd you get that jacket, man?" he said.
"My wife got it for me on ebay," I said.
"That's a good woman," he said.
The preceding exchange didn't actually happen. But it's better than talking about the game, or about my 30-minute walk home from the Highland Park train station. I've really got to live in a neighborhood where I don't expect to hear "Open up, police!" shouted randomly on the street at 11 PM.
As an endnote, my friend Jeff works next to the hotel where The Suns are staying. Yesterday, he sent me a fine digital photo of he and Mike D'Antoni at a smoothie joint. Today, he says, he saw the Suns getting on a bus, and D'Antoni apologized to him personally for last night's performance. "Sunday!" the coach said.
Go Suns! Do it for Jeff!
Comments
I'm laughing about "where is your good tiger now?" I remember yelling "Where is your God now, Kurt Warner?" while watching the 2000 Super Bowl, 39 weeks pregnant.
And oh, how I wish that encounter with Trump really happened.
Posted by: Mrs. Davis | April 27, 2007 6:18 PM
My mom is from England, stay with me, and last year we watched the World Cup as we always do. We tend to root for the underdogs. However, there is no loyaty except to UK. Who we root for varies from game to game.
And normally I'm not into watching sports but I became this raving monster when it came to football. I would jump up off the couch at particuarly good plays and for the bad I went all Old Testament. Wailing and nashing of teeth... I can't wait for the next Cup in 3 years.
Posted by: Ashley | April 27, 2007 9:25 PM
Tony Soprano's about to go down and you're dreaming about The Donald? Where are your priorities man?!
Posted by: J.D. Finch | April 27, 2007 10:02 PM
I am not DREAMING about the Donald, Mr. Finch. I saw him at a basketball game.
Posted by: Neal Pollack | April 27, 2007 10:57 PM
Sure and he reportedly got booed when his frightening visage appeared on the Jumbotron. Another example of technology blowing horror up to intolerable proportions. (And we still don't have wrist radios or flying cars, dammit!)
Posted by: John Finch | April 28, 2007 12:15 AM
Clarification: Neal did actually SEE Mr. Trump, but he did not have the fashion exchange.
Posted by: Regina | April 28, 2007 2:43 PM
I knew that. Did you think I didn't know that? I knew that.
Mr. Pollack is a writer of diamond-like clarity.
I was only a-funnin' him.
Posted by: J.D. Finch | April 30, 2007 11:00 PM