Wednesday, January 19, 2005
Brick
Happy Humpday, Kids.
Last night I witnessed one of the more miserable shooting efforts of I've ever seen in basketball. The team put up a nice 22% FG percentage for the game. But I don't blame the players for poor shooting; you're not going to have your three top scorers all have that bad of nights in the same night. I blame the system. The shots these guys were forced to settle for were quite difficult. A team made an 11 point comeback while playing a zone against them. Again, they staged a come back while playing a zone defense. You just don't see that. That's the system. Granted, the shots weren't droppin at all, lid was on tight, but that's going to happen when a third of the team's second half shot are three-pointers, and most of the them a few feet beyond the arc. Anyway, it blew ass.
This is the last week of Winterim Paint Crew. I'm happy about that, even borderline ready to go back to school. Shit. It will be easier to sit down and write blog posts then when I'm not following work all day with a nice, long nap.
Tomorrow a bunch of us are heading to check out a Kareokee contest. One of our co-workers does a dead on version of "Your Love" by The Outfield. He throws a speech impediment or two into his impression which only makes it hysterical.
Clemens wants 22 million. I give it to him.
Until This Afternoon.
Last night I witnessed one of the more miserable shooting efforts of I've ever seen in basketball. The team put up a nice 22% FG percentage for the game. But I don't blame the players for poor shooting; you're not going to have your three top scorers all have that bad of nights in the same night. I blame the system. The shots these guys were forced to settle for were quite difficult. A team made an 11 point comeback while playing a zone against them. Again, they staged a come back while playing a zone defense. You just don't see that. That's the system. Granted, the shots weren't droppin at all, lid was on tight, but that's going to happen when a third of the team's second half shot are three-pointers, and most of the them a few feet beyond the arc. Anyway, it blew ass.
This is the last week of Winterim Paint Crew. I'm happy about that, even borderline ready to go back to school. Shit. It will be easier to sit down and write blog posts then when I'm not following work all day with a nice, long nap.
Tomorrow a bunch of us are heading to check out a Kareokee contest. One of our co-workers does a dead on version of "Your Love" by The Outfield. He throws a speech impediment or two into his impression which only makes it hysterical.
Clemens wants 22 million. I give it to him.
Until This Afternoon.
