EL BLOG ILUSORIO DE RUDY: I Plant My Feet in the Bloody Sand

20.3.09

I Plant My Feet in the Bloody Sand

My mates and I had a toughened loss at Cleveland last night. Yet despite lacking starters Nic Batum (ankle) and LaMarcus Aldridge (Jeff-Foster-induced-bruise to the brain), my mates took LeBron James and his Cavaliers into overtimes last night.

Then we lost. When others are injured, I recognize the need for improved play from those in the game. And were I not 1 for 6 from the shootings, victory would now be in our grasp. ¡Mis disculpas!

To keep balance and remind me of home, I read about España in the news. For an instance, I follow the movements of Spanish defense minister Carme Chacón Piqueras (left) with great interest. (She is in Afghanistan at the moment.) Also, I see a debate rages at home over toreros and bullfighting. Champion bullfighter Francisco Rivera Ordóñez was just awarded a Fine Arts medal from the Spanish Culture Ministry. Out of this erupted controversy! A former winner, José Tomás, returned his previously awarded medal in disgust.

This Fine Arts medal can be likened to the NBA’s Most Valued Player award, if any deep meaning resonated with the average American regarding it. Now imagine Michael Jordan returning his MVP trophies in protest over it being given to a talented but uninspired practitioner, e.g., Carmelo Anthony.

That is what happened; an esteemed matador and former winner, José Tomás, returned his previously awarded medal in disgust!

In Spain, a bullfighter is an artist, an icon, a socialite, and an athlete. Panache is everything! And while Mr. Rivera is a blueblood who is married to the renowned María Eugenia Brianda Timotea Cecilia Martínez de Irujo y Fitz-James Stuart, his bullfighting is boring. (This is in contrast to Carmelo Anthony's churlish brio.)

How this debate will resolve, I do not know. But I do know that to escape my own shooting slumpage, I must muster courage, plant my feet in the bloody sand, and stare the enraged bull (or Buck) who defends me in the eyes.

Then I must shoot! (With accuracy would be nice.)

(Rudy photo derived from the estimable BustaBucket.)

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"El Blog Ilusorio": In the Orbs of Others!

Rudy's Hypothetical Rules of Basketball

1. In ten years, nobody will remember the details of score, assists, or rebounds. They will only remember who won them a chalupa.

2. Any shot worth shooting is worth shooting twice.

3. When not shooting on offense, you should be communicating, passing, and running. Also, yell “Foul!” repeatedly. Why? How can officials summon help if you yell “Good D!” or “Our opponents are superior!”?

4. If legitimately called for a foul, say, “A good call!” (Do this no more than once a game.)

5. When in possession of the ball, have a plan. Further, have a back-up plan, because the first plan won't work (unless you are Brandon Roy).

6. Use cover or concealment as much as possible. (Both Oden and Pryzbilla provide these in abundance.)

7. On defense, ignore words and direct your eyesight to the ball. (Opposing Cleveland, LeBron James told me he would pull up for a jumper. I advanced upon him. Then James drove baseline with great speed. Both of my ankles gave way!)

8. The faster you begin an opponent’s blow-out, the more shots everyone will get.

9. Be polite and professional to everyone you play against. Then destroy them, for they wish to defeat you.

10. Practice shooting in a dimly-lit practice area with someone shouting unflattering threats at you. (I found this useful in Europe, where partial power outages were not uncommon.)

11. You may feel sad about snapping another team’s back with a clinch alley-oop or a clutching 3-pointer. But sadness is preferred to losing. And the winning will then bring happiness. (In the case of defeating the Lakers, the happiness will be most pronounced.)

12. Purple is not my color. (It may not be anyone’s color.)