Off-balance, I lofted a shot. But even while doing so, I winced, for my shot attempting was covered in what Violet Palmer called “weak sauce” (see “Iberian Charms”). And my weak sauce was then blocked with great vituperation by Andersen.
My objections to the play are two-folded:
1.) The blocked ball bounced directly off my visage with great forcefulness, yet no foul was called on the play!
2.) Andersen then preened and pretended to comb his hair afterwards. This pretense was offensive; the fellow’s overuse of hair product insures no need for a comb.
Upon my return to the bench, Greg Oden gave a reassuring smile and stated Andersen “is open to incontinency.” Indeed! (Sergio was less supportive, claiming that he could see the image to the right stenciled on my face.)
As for me, I feel that if the Nuggets insist on boorishness, so be it. But even as I nurse my whiplash, I have no wish to feast on grapes of sourness, nor other unripe fruits. (And a tardy thanks to LaMarcus Aldridge for his defense of my face's honor on our following possession!)