Friday, October 2, 2009
Pay me ... not them.
Wait and see kiddles ... that's really all I have to say about the upcoming Raptors season, wait and see. Spending a week at home on staycation I have realized, via following amateur Raps bloggers profusely (and some not so amateur ... much love to RapsHQ, Smith, Smith and Grange though), that none of us know what in the shit we are talking about and that we'll really have to wait and see. On paper that is a hot team ... but the speculation is fucking silly! As my man Venereal Disease, er, Vishus Delishus said in his last post ... sacre bleu! I am totally into naughty monkey love! ... oh, and that we'll just have to see how it all plays out.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
YBC and the Weird Genesis of Learned Sport in a Non-Sporting Family (part 1)
My immediate family never really followed sports growing up. We'd watch the Olympics, my mom loved the Blue Jays, and my Dad could pop dingers at will in our family softball tournaments (which took place every 3-5 years). We were more an All Creatures Great and Small \ Victory Garden type of family. How I became such a passionate basketball fan, both on the court and off, is somewhat of a mystery.
Personally, I don't remember having a strong desire to play sports in my earliest years of rec league action. I played soccer for much of my early childhood but it never really caught on (ie I sucked really badly and never could improve enough to develop an early love for it). I then started playing baseball. Summer sports were all sewn up, but thinking back that is not where my athletic passion was born.
Most kids growing up in the 80s in Canada played hockey. Not coming from a typically Canadian family we had no allegiance to the sport. When it came time to pick a winter sport, basketball got the call. I'm guessing the decision had it's genesis with a neighbor of ours. His son was a classmate of mine and a heck of a good basketball player. He was also the coach of a local rec team in the YBC, or Youth Basketball Clinic, and had tried out for the Detroit Pistons (I believe) in his earlier years. I suppose after talking to my mom he invited me to play on his team ... chock full of ringers.
I was HORRIBLE in my first year of play (roughly grade 4), but I loved it. I remember the highlight of the season was the pizza party at the end in which the entire league and their parents packed a local school auditorium and watched the latest NBA videos on the big screen. I can still recall the goose bumps I'd get watching Isiah, Bird, Magic, Dominique and Jordan doing their thing while eating pizza with my friends and teammates. The memory has stuck and is still one of my favourites to look back upon.
Anyway, that's enough for this instalment. I'll check back later with another post in this series.
Personally, I don't remember having a strong desire to play sports in my earliest years of rec league action. I played soccer for much of my early childhood but it never really caught on (ie I sucked really badly and never could improve enough to develop an early love for it). I then started playing baseball. Summer sports were all sewn up, but thinking back that is not where my athletic passion was born.
Most kids growing up in the 80s in Canada played hockey. Not coming from a typically Canadian family we had no allegiance to the sport. When it came time to pick a winter sport, basketball got the call. I'm guessing the decision had it's genesis with a neighbor of ours. His son was a classmate of mine and a heck of a good basketball player. He was also the coach of a local rec team in the YBC, or Youth Basketball Clinic, and had tried out for the Detroit Pistons (I believe) in his earlier years. I suppose after talking to my mom he invited me to play on his team ... chock full of ringers.
I was HORRIBLE in my first year of play (roughly grade 4), but I loved it. I remember the highlight of the season was the pizza party at the end in which the entire league and their parents packed a local school auditorium and watched the latest NBA videos on the big screen. I can still recall the goose bumps I'd get watching Isiah, Bird, Magic, Dominique and Jordan doing their thing while eating pizza with my friends and teammates. The memory has stuck and is still one of my favourites to look back upon.
Anyway, that's enough for this instalment. I'll check back later with another post in this series.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Wassup Blogosphere?!
What can I say? My dreams have been fulfilled, I finally have a blog on the world wide web and it's about basketball. And life. I hope to turn around a few lives and really make a difference while I'm here, all accomplished through my writing about basketball. Prepare to get your respective heads blown, every last one of you.
I'd like to thank my man NC for hooking me up with an invite to the blog. NC, thank you for taking 2.34 seconds out of your busy schedule to click your mouse a couple of times. You're a real stand-up guy. You will regret this decision, I hereby make my solemn promise to you and yours.
So, basketball. I like it, you like it. It's why we're all here. Why should you care about what I have to say about it? Because I'm badass, and you'll find out why soon enough.
I'm currently a pretty hardcore Raps fan, but first and foremost I'm a basketball fan. I like it so much that I subject my 5'5" frame to a fairly regular schedule of ball, and if you're a smaller player you know how sadistic that can be sometimes. I get blocked a lot. Stuffed, whatever. You name it. But I keep coming back for more, and if that's not true passion you can all eat it. I have a few jerseys from more recent eras (mid 90s recent) and I currently have my eye on a Chauncy Billups Nuggets jersey.
So while this blog will focus on the Raps, it'll be in perspective with the rest of the NBA. I follow the league as tenaciously as our local squad, so this isn't written by someone who only watches the Raps with their head in the sand regarding the bigger picture. With that in mind, I have to say that overall I feel pretty positively about this team. Conversely, I feel pretty damn negatively about the doom and gloom that seems to have already arrived in our great city.
Bosh's pending free agency. Turkoglu's hurt and played like crap at the Eurobasket. Possible inability to gel as a group. Still can't play defense. Tough schedule early on. Inexperienced coach. The rest of the conference got a lot better.
Guess what? It's September 22nd and the season is still 6 weeks away. All of these comments are pointless. We won't know any answers until they hit the court.
Know what? I'll bet that Turkoglu suffers a catastrophic injury and the rest of the team doesn't get along and we wind up with a 32 win season. Worse than last year by one game. Ouch.
Know what else? I'll wager that the Raps are going to have an excellent year, both Bosh and Turk make the all-star team, we get past the 1st round of the playoffs, and hell, maybe we'll even challenge for the conference title.
Who knows? I sure don't, so I'm going to sit back and try and catch some classic games on TV until the season actually starts. It's called chilling the fuck out, and I think some of you need to try it.
Now I am off to get NC to lend me his Celtics and Knicks DVDs. He owes me for writing this blog after all.
I'd like to thank my man NC for hooking me up with an invite to the blog. NC, thank you for taking 2.34 seconds out of your busy schedule to click your mouse a couple of times. You're a real stand-up guy. You will regret this decision, I hereby make my solemn promise to you and yours.
So, basketball. I like it, you like it. It's why we're all here. Why should you care about what I have to say about it? Because I'm badass, and you'll find out why soon enough.
I'm currently a pretty hardcore Raps fan, but first and foremost I'm a basketball fan. I like it so much that I subject my 5'5" frame to a fairly regular schedule of ball, and if you're a smaller player you know how sadistic that can be sometimes. I get blocked a lot. Stuffed, whatever. You name it. But I keep coming back for more, and if that's not true passion you can all eat it. I have a few jerseys from more recent eras (mid 90s recent) and I currently have my eye on a Chauncy Billups Nuggets jersey.
So while this blog will focus on the Raps, it'll be in perspective with the rest of the NBA. I follow the league as tenaciously as our local squad, so this isn't written by someone who only watches the Raps with their head in the sand regarding the bigger picture. With that in mind, I have to say that overall I feel pretty positively about this team. Conversely, I feel pretty damn negatively about the doom and gloom that seems to have already arrived in our great city.
Bosh's pending free agency. Turkoglu's hurt and played like crap at the Eurobasket. Possible inability to gel as a group. Still can't play defense. Tough schedule early on. Inexperienced coach. The rest of the conference got a lot better.
Guess what? It's September 22nd and the season is still 6 weeks away. All of these comments are pointless. We won't know any answers until they hit the court.
Know what? I'll bet that Turkoglu suffers a catastrophic injury and the rest of the team doesn't get along and we wind up with a 32 win season. Worse than last year by one game. Ouch.
Know what else? I'll wager that the Raps are going to have an excellent year, both Bosh and Turk make the all-star team, we get past the 1st round of the playoffs, and hell, maybe we'll even challenge for the conference title.
Who knows? I sure don't, so I'm going to sit back and try and catch some classic games on TV until the season actually starts. It's called chilling the fuck out, and I think some of you need to try it.
Now I am off to get NC to lend me his Celtics and Knicks DVDs. He owes me for writing this blog after all.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Some Love for Doug
Doug Smith is my favorite off-season NBA blogger. He's superb really and truly. Usually by the time the fourth quarter of the Raptors NBA season rolls around I am as utterly fed up by his melancholic, often condescending rants as he must be with the fans totally baseless, fear mongering/comment column panic attacks.
Speaking of the Toronto faithful I posed a question to him on his blog the other day regarding our voracity amongst North American sports fans and what makes us seemingly share an angst ridden kinship with fans from other large East Coast cities. His response was succinct, yet pristine in it's accuracy.
Here's how it played out.
Stunning really. As poignant as pelican in a sea of peas.
Speaking of the Toronto faithful I posed a question to him on his blog the other day regarding our voracity amongst North American sports fans and what makes us seemingly share an angst ridden kinship with fans from other large East Coast cities. His response was succinct, yet pristine in it's accuracy.
Here's how it played out.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Great Moves for 31 Year Old Rec League or Playground Bball Players with Bad Legs
Me:
Streetball Moniker = Hot Deals. Gym Moniker = The Golden Scepter, The Vanilla Thrilla, Neon Tetra the Kissing Gourami, F-14 Tomcat ... and many others. 31 years old. 6'1". 20 + years of basketball. Once a glorious sky walker ... now ... no legs.
My Moves:
The Elbow to the Ribs - Employed on defense. This is likely the most important move in my repertoire. For whatever reason I have been asked to play a lot of post in the various leagues I rock across TO. In the past I have been a small forward or 2, usually responsible for guarding the opposing teams highest scorer by using my feet to stay between them and the basket. I guess time has caught up with me now and my main duty is to hold down the paint against guys that are multiple inches taller than me. First rule, keep them out of the paint. This is where the Elbow to the Ribs comes in. The very first play of the game, nestle the pointy appendage softly between your opponents lowest two ribs. Once you have placement press hard. It's important not too hit with the elbow as that is crappy violent way to get your point across. Place and push.
The Forearm Check - Employed on defense. When your opponent is darting from one side of the key to the next to find position, make sure you let them know that you don't want them in your house by giving them firm forearm checks as they run by you. The object is to move them inch by inch out of the key before they get the ball to facilitate a help defense scenario when they do, and to make them generally pissed off and possibly think you are mildly bi-curious. Turn the big galoots into jump shooters.
The Lean - Employed on Defense. 6'10" muscle bound opponent. Likes the ball down low or 10 m away from you with room to barrel down the runway. No way to stop him once he gets in these situations. Don't let him. Follow him like a shadow the entire time with one arm wrapped up in his and your entire body weight leaning on his shoulder. A 45 degree angle to his hip can likely hold him in place too, but you might find yourself on the ground if he/she (should have mentioned this earlier ... certainly it's he/she) gets wise.
The Ball Fake - Employed on offense. We all know what this is, the point I'd like to make is that why only use it once or twice a game. It's full devastating capacity can't be overstated. Use it anywhere from 3-25 times in a single possession. Your opponent will be so dazed with the show you'll finally be able to coast right by them when their neck seizes up or they get too bored to care. If I'm stuck down in the paint with the big galoot I mentioned earlier i like to combine the fake with another couple of moves to make this fierce little combo ... The Ball Fake to Coin Pickup Head Plow - A few ball fakes (with some long pivots of course), get yourself facing the basket, bend at the waist like you're going to pick up a coin, and then use your head to plow the person out of the way. Till the soil as it were. Go up for the easy two.
That ends this installment. More to come later. Perhaps I'll get my man Dinner Roll to big up the art of the Long Nail Bad Breath perimeter stylings that have made him famous on the courts of Roxton.
Streetball Moniker = Hot Deals. Gym Moniker = The Golden Scepter, The Vanilla Thrilla, Neon Tetra the Kissing Gourami, F-14 Tomcat ... and many others. 31 years old. 6'1". 20 + years of basketball. Once a glorious sky walker ... now ... no legs.
My Moves:
The Elbow to the Ribs - Employed on defense. This is likely the most important move in my repertoire. For whatever reason I have been asked to play a lot of post in the various leagues I rock across TO. In the past I have been a small forward or 2, usually responsible for guarding the opposing teams highest scorer by using my feet to stay between them and the basket. I guess time has caught up with me now and my main duty is to hold down the paint against guys that are multiple inches taller than me. First rule, keep them out of the paint. This is where the Elbow to the Ribs comes in. The very first play of the game, nestle the pointy appendage softly between your opponents lowest two ribs. Once you have placement press hard. It's important not too hit with the elbow as that is crappy violent way to get your point across. Place and push.
The Forearm Check - Employed on defense. When your opponent is darting from one side of the key to the next to find position, make sure you let them know that you don't want them in your house by giving them firm forearm checks as they run by you. The object is to move them inch by inch out of the key before they get the ball to facilitate a help defense scenario when they do, and to make them generally pissed off and possibly think you are mildly bi-curious. Turn the big galoots into jump shooters.
The Lean - Employed on Defense. 6'10" muscle bound opponent. Likes the ball down low or 10 m away from you with room to barrel down the runway. No way to stop him once he gets in these situations. Don't let him. Follow him like a shadow the entire time with one arm wrapped up in his and your entire body weight leaning on his shoulder. A 45 degree angle to his hip can likely hold him in place too, but you might find yourself on the ground if he/she (should have mentioned this earlier ... certainly it's he/she) gets wise.
The Ball Fake - Employed on offense. We all know what this is, the point I'd like to make is that why only use it once or twice a game. It's full devastating capacity can't be overstated. Use it anywhere from 3-25 times in a single possession. Your opponent will be so dazed with the show you'll finally be able to coast right by them when their neck seizes up or they get too bored to care. If I'm stuck down in the paint with the big galoot I mentioned earlier i like to combine the fake with another couple of moves to make this fierce little combo ... The Ball Fake to Coin Pickup Head Plow - A few ball fakes (with some long pivots of course), get yourself facing the basket, bend at the waist like you're going to pick up a coin, and then use your head to plow the person out of the way. Till the soil as it were. Go up for the easy two.
That ends this installment. More to come later. Perhaps I'll get my man Dinner Roll to big up the art of the Long Nail Bad Breath perimeter stylings that have made him famous on the courts of Roxton.
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"What do you think it is about Toronto, New York and Philly fans that make us so "unique"?
Blogger's note: Historical mediocrity, basic insecurity, too much time on their hands"