tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32532175065747352872024-02-20T11:00:00.537-08:00EL BLOG ILUSORIO DE RUDYRudy Fernández: Hypothetical & UnofficiousBart Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08157500394147661880noreply@blogger.comBlogger291125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3253217506574735287.post-88665679180304629492011-06-24T19:42:00.000-07:002011-06-25T07:29:34.518-07:00Easily Does It<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsIBKNq-Vw7FaE9yOAD4Or80Jy-Qs6F5Bgy_oP22HT35O7RBdjCsutaLFzAArgloo4Q_wVgO6N2qBC6D_JLktjMnCpWhcpIbfRRASAi0OhbLt2wxDtO8ZkjiXmPbn5BknTSLA5wCIC_xo/s1600/5432846755_4d308b3ce4_z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsIBKNq-Vw7FaE9yOAD4Or80Jy-Qs6F5Bgy_oP22HT35O7RBdjCsutaLFzAArgloo4Q_wVgO6N2qBC6D_JLktjMnCpWhcpIbfRRASAi0OhbLt2wxDtO8ZkjiXmPbn5BknTSLA5wCIC_xo/s320/5432846755_4d308b3ce4_z.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">Beneath the warmth of Mallorca’s summer orb, it would be easy to languish in idle-otry. Yet I diligently persist in improvements to my skill settings!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>Por ejemplo</i>, I was recently involved in a “pick-me-up” basketball match. The opposing squads were comprised of German tourists, local fishermen, some street urchins, and even our local priest, Father Delarojas.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">As we arranged ourselves for the bounding in of the ball, a pickpocket from the other team asked, “<i>¡Dios mio!</i> You have a priest in your midst?”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5P7Zh5fGNDAaXiY1n6C0Bn_fng0XfAPBTbwfY8sGsSFXjxM2UQc3AYiHqSQo5Dl7mfUyni-11VvrMWbG5P014oZM70iMum7mb2W7wN3jwZyHdFRJTB7lnJY615bn1ss_INIifRJ1YDzc/s1600/Rudy+wristband.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5P7Zh5fGNDAaXiY1n6C0Bn_fng0XfAPBTbwfY8sGsSFXjxM2UQc3AYiHqSQo5Dl7mfUyni-11VvrMWbG5P014oZM70iMum7mb2W7wN3jwZyHdFRJTB7lnJY615bn1ss_INIifRJ1YDzc/s200/Rudy+wristband.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>“When you play basketball as we do, it helps to have God on your side,” I joked.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Words of augury! We lost the match 21-19, and the final point scored when the good Father tangled the ball in his vestments, leading to an unholy turnover.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Though it was a friendly game (I took part in my flip-floppers, after all), it still hurt like an Andrew Bynum elbow to the fuselage. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“This is a tragedy!” I cried, thrusting my fists heavenwards, then casting an accusatory glare at the holy man.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Father Delarojas did his best, Rudy,” demurred one of my opponents.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8l4cLGp_vA4jJf1hpIbXR1Yhs-SWb-aDhTtxDK9INl6RgjFqzPUAVzC-Ry-6r6BPdNpj1mX95f7sNDRWEIxAxNuoJGTC378NArabql8g9V-hZ3qbhrkzZrmuBU-ko2TCyPtTgK0mtWek/s1600/9454816-standard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8l4cLGp_vA4jJf1hpIbXR1Yhs-SWb-aDhTtxDK9INl6RgjFqzPUAVzC-Ry-6r6BPdNpj1mX95f7sNDRWEIxAxNuoJGTC378NArabql8g9V-hZ3qbhrkzZrmuBU-ko2TCyPtTgK0mtWek/s200/9454816-standard.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">“And yet we lost,” I lamented. Is it my fate to lose ALL matches, from pavilion’s playoffs to the playground’s pettiness? <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But such self-pity is only cause for shame! Thus, I chastised myself and swore (gently!) to do what it takes to become worthy of joining a basketball champion.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And now, I find that I am a member of the Dallas Mavericks.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglQofCl83yOiGeSstmY-XtgPnQwC9S7Z6nBn-7guKGGVbZ426r6lg7fYVHGJRAc-MnoHlxIEq_fsZgeTKcD-rtsRngj2vflQFtoXRfaV0PcywNWplAO0cz6ebcT7L_25Ptuw0btvvqRVI/s1600/NBA-2011-Champions-Dallas-Mavs-Widescreen-Wallpaper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglQofCl83yOiGeSstmY-XtgPnQwC9S7Z6nBn-7guKGGVbZ426r6lg7fYVHGJRAc-MnoHlxIEq_fsZgeTKcD-rtsRngj2vflQFtoXRfaV0PcywNWplAO0cz6ebcT7L_25Ptuw0btvvqRVI/s400/NBA-2011-Champions-Dallas-Mavs-Widescreen-Wallpaper.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
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That was easy!<o:p></o:p><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Top foto from </span></span><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rudy5/5432846755/in/photostream"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">here</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">, </span></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">bottom from the </span></span><a href="http://www.oregonlive.com/blazers/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Oregonian</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">.</span></span></i></div>Bart Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08157500394147661880noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3253217506574735287.post-16323685425120543792011-04-11T13:02:00.000-07:002011-04-12T08:36:01.628-07:00"¿Qué Coño?" is Spanish for "What the Fernandez?"<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">At this </span><a href="http://www.sbnation.com/nba/2011/4/11/2104458/nba-wtf-play-award"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">siting</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> is a survey of the people for the "</span><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>¿Qué coño?</i>" (or in English, the less graceful "WTF?") Play of the Year</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My entrance to this match was enabled by the following outrage against the gods of the </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">parquet</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<object height="390" width="640"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/IBUD2Ol2drE?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&hd=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/IBUD2Ol2drE?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&hd=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="390"></embed></object><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">What I find most odd is that I do not recall the pavilion playing this organ-grinding music. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But no matter— </span><a href="http://www.sbnation.com/nba/2011/4/11/2104458/nba-wtf-play-award"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Cast, toss, or otherwise sling a vote today</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">. And remember, a vote for me is a vote for </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">yo mismo</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">!</span><br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(And </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">gracias</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> for the levity, <a href="http://www.blazersedge.com/2011/4/11/2104660/rudys-nominated-for-nba-wtf-play-of-the-year">Dave</a>.)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div>Bart Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08157500394147661880noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3253217506574735287.post-90804063099410089432011-04-02T09:17:00.000-07:002011-04-02T09:17:53.826-07:00Fly Like a Spanish Eagle!<object height="368" width="600"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/NbFhOvTYmNU?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&hd=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/NbFhOvTYmNU?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&hd=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="600" height="368"></embed></object><br />
As I swoop through the ether, behold who shrinks from my unspeakable velocity . . . my own mate, Marcus Camby!Bart Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08157500394147661880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3253217506574735287.post-92151664869201992052011-03-26T10:11:00.000-07:002011-03-27T12:04:33.145-07:00How I Made Nic Batum a Man!<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhomkZPhSFyof7JohPhk-sziRqk8doYbhmnqiMHt_ka_QyZBMVtaABu4ena-4ECSgwFDO78WtX3y89ht7V6tcdQKNnwP9_f_2h44ejlel1HyU6a-Oy5Ei7v2Xb0zNOr0ocs-puKNeF3f8Q/s1600/rudy+patty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhomkZPhSFyof7JohPhk-sziRqk8doYbhmnqiMHt_ka_QyZBMVtaABu4ena-4ECSgwFDO78WtX3y89ht7V6tcdQKNnwP9_f_2h44ejlel1HyU6a-Oy5Ei7v2Xb0zNOr0ocs-puKNeF3f8Q/s320/rudy+patty.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1824618727"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">De </span></span></span></a><a href="http://photos.oregonlive.com/oregonian/2011/03/trail_blazers_vs_spurs_march_2_35.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">aquí</span></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">.</span></span></span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Amid the great excitements of last glorious match against the Spurs of San Antonio, a near-miracle happened.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Before viewing evidence of this below, let me first state this: </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I deserve —and seize— all credits for Nic Batum’s coolnesses under pressurization!<br />
<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><object height="450" width="560"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/doPGmQY7CCg?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&hd=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/doPGmQY7CCg?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&hd=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="450"></embed></object></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><br />
</i><br />
<i>And now, the explainings</i>: Acting on my invitation, Batum visited my home isle of Mallorca this past summer.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">After a pleasant day spent on beaches and fishing crafts, I sensed that Batum was slightly unimpressed with the sights. Upon my inquiry, Batum responded, “<i>Mallorca is great! But I weesh for something more . . . wild and colorful</i>.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Nodding, I later made arrangements for the two of us to dine at a tavern where Mallorca’s scarred and sea-toughened fishermen gather. While tapas were being served at our rough oaken table, I winked at the waiter. He silently laid a gigantic, razor-sharp dagger beside Nic’s plate and departed. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The Frenchman’s eyes widened. “<i>What does this mean?</i>” he asked, testing the blade of the dagger gingerly.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“<i>Observe</i>,” I replied. “<i>These fishermen have been drinking, as is their wont. But now they quarrel over the matter of who is the finer author: Miguel de Cervantes or Alexandre Dumas. I can only pray they will not attempt to settle their dispute here</i>.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“<i>But of course, it is Dumas</i>—” Batum began.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“<i>Silence!</i>” I hissed, pointing. “<i>And look!</i>”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Seeing my cue, a swarthy seaman leapt to his feet. Wielding a medieval-looking mace, he cried, “<i>Whoever says that <b>Don Quixote</b> written by Cervantes is not superior in every respect to the tripe written by Alexandre Dumas —e.g., <b>The Three Musketeers</b>— is a liar and a thief!</i>”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNuBxtA8J-qotwhrRLMEz0pft3htn2UfxmUDyn0n_6bM2u1kQhs6t0Q9Px3awbyTah8k6ae8P1aJz1JVKrC1yeRS32G4M98impIhkDlYQfX_CI0L6NQSGxUSIRnqJEG1GeNlUfyRHse0c/s1600/Batum+in+sling.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNuBxtA8J-qotwhrRLMEz0pft3htn2UfxmUDyn0n_6bM2u1kQhs6t0Q9Px3awbyTah8k6ae8P1aJz1JVKrC1yeRS32G4M98impIhkDlYQfX_CI0L6NQSGxUSIRnqJEG1GeNlUfyRHse0c/s200/Batum+in+sling.jpg" width="169" /></a>You should have cast eyes upon Batum’s face! Seizing the moment, I thrust the dagger into his hand and whispered, “<i>Prepare to defend yourself!</i>” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And with that, I slunk from the astounded Batum and exited the tavern before my restrained laughter suffocated me!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And THAT, <i>mi amigos</i>, is how the prodigiously lanky Nic Batum was properly shriven and became a man. (Those who are still chary of my contributions, please view this taping at the 1:50 point!)<br />
<object height="450" width="560"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/R2xEAJDKa5g?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&hd=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/R2xEAJDKa5g?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&hd=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="450"></embed></object><br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><i>Gracias, animart1!</i></span></div></div>Bart Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08157500394147661880noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3253217506574735287.post-38077266666742052592011-03-21T16:20:00.001-07:002011-03-21T16:20:06.892-07:00Spanish Basketball is mildly exciting.<object height="349" width="560"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/zijh7EAAH6g?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&hd=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/zijh7EAAH6g?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&hd=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="349"></embed></object>Bart Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08157500394147661880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3253217506574735287.post-87363038420138695642011-03-18T09:06:00.001-07:002011-03-18T09:06:03.517-07:00Beware of My Lasers!<object height="349" width="560"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/73fDAzcLGYU?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&hd=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/73fDAzcLGYU?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&hd=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="349"></embed></object>Bart Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08157500394147661880noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3253217506574735287.post-44853985526238612902011-03-16T16:30:00.000-07:002011-03-21T15:18:18.522-07:00Hell = A Spaniard with a Basketball<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYaZE1_bXFxx3f6yNqL-9ijsSRyj-WriM6826dtryzGd8jbEZ_zEA4Sh8QeXyhFZN7MCVYcPU2xqydJQZqjPt5U3FcapfjA0TdjzBhbKXLZdzUtVvdWmItK_Wy5n2Pc3UOvB3BMzWABcg/s1600/rudy+rage0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYaZE1_bXFxx3f6yNqL-9ijsSRyj-WriM6826dtryzGd8jbEZ_zEA4Sh8QeXyhFZN7MCVYcPU2xqydJQZqjPt5U3FcapfjA0TdjzBhbKXLZdzUtVvdWmItK_Wy5n2Pc3UOvB3BMzWABcg/s200/rudy+rage0.jpg" width="145" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="MsoNormal"><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_132577921">De aquí</a></i><a href="http://www.oregonlive.com/blazers/index.ssf/2011/03/trial_blazers_vs_mavericks_mar.html">.</a></div></td></tr>
</tbody></table>In the cut-and-thrust of a match, basketball players conduct themselves in varied fashions. Some mutter oaths, complaints, and blasphemies; others mumble prayers, kiss medallions, or make the sign of the cross.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But some wax loquacious!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>Por ejemplo</i>, the always truculent Tyson Chandler. In last night’s match, the Dallas Maverick proved himself a faulty theoretician and a trippingly fast speaker.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">You see, time was nearly elapsed at the ending of <i>el primer período!</i> </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZlwrjaMUDxRCyHqHI68DQsYlC0M9hw6lLTA_hyEgFqMNrYgwIqaOS2lhcNVs9lgtG2Os3y4PtSQXzNMR2apfi7QFiGuWqj2RpyF2F6Mjixy8JoXwmnRZ9DSxxG3ykfcRVAPj2GT7mUiM/s1600/Trail+Blazers+vs-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZlwrjaMUDxRCyHqHI68DQsYlC0M9hw6lLTA_hyEgFqMNrYgwIqaOS2lhcNVs9lgtG2Os3y4PtSQXzNMR2apfi7QFiGuWqj2RpyF2F6Mjixy8JoXwmnRZ9DSxxG3ykfcRVAPj2GT7mUiM/s320/Trail+Blazers+vs-1.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="MsoNormal"><i><a href="http://www.oregonlive.com/blazers/index.ssf/2011/03/trial_blazers_vs_mavericks_mar.html">De aquí.</a></i></div></td></tr>
</tbody></table>I hoisted the basketball with care even as Chandler cried, out, “<i>You’ll miss! For a ball must move either in the place where it is or in the place where it is not. Now, a ball cannot be in motion in the place where it is stationary, and cannot be in motion in the place where it is not. Therefore, you have not shot the ball at all!</i>”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“<i>Perhaps</i>,” I responded, even as I coaxed the ball toward the hoop with elegant bodily linguistics. “<i>But watch! Even as the basketball soars away, it will magically land in your diabolical visage. I say this knowing full well that the spheroid cannot be in a place in which it is not, and yet</i>—”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>¡PUM!</i> The basket was made, the goal was counted, and the masses surged in their ecstasies!</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr2aO31LExQIfk3CCB94QxaFiOYuAkNuxpYDakaBu1k1SoM4hKC_VddGDdScKxhg9ckl4pGcuWJNc_zat-4gFcvoDNwfV3qNGa9bgd5x9sE-OWX1bs97hmORGgFUmiBkS71nyP6eU6qEc/s1600/Trail+Blazers+vs.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr2aO31LExQIfk3CCB94QxaFiOYuAkNuxpYDakaBu1k1SoM4hKC_VddGDdScKxhg9ckl4pGcuWJNc_zat-4gFcvoDNwfV3qNGa9bgd5x9sE-OWX1bs97hmORGgFUmiBkS71nyP6eU6qEc/s400/Trail+Blazers+vs.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="MsoNormal"><i><a href="http://www.oregonlive.com/blazers/index.ssf/2011/03/trial_blazers_vs_mavericks_mar.html">De aquí.</a></i></div></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">“<i>—and yet it is now most assuredly in your face!</i>” I shouted at Chandler’s departing form. Ah, how his shoulders slumped, <i>mi amigos</i>!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And as he departed, Chandler cried out, “<i>All it takes to create Hell on the court is a Spaniard and a basketball</i>.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgux8KC1WvmlwFI9JrApVND8V5pGFyrA6FMT06zEqAySWa66PSkR9sZvkGsXHG57n_tbXkNcicWZbdzb5q6T89FHN6jWMw1idcR7Z66nfESZZjKeYZvlJjFbj9WaEOJ8o3CLsrLzTzhrJw/s1600/PJ-AZ858_SP_GOG_G_20110314163808.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgux8KC1WvmlwFI9JrApVND8V5pGFyrA6FMT06zEqAySWa66PSkR9sZvkGsXHG57n_tbXkNcicWZbdzb5q6T89FHN6jWMw1idcR7Z66nfESZZjKeYZvlJjFbj9WaEOJ8o3CLsrLzTzhrJw/s200/PJ-AZ858_SP_GOG_G_20110314163808.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">Even now, I do not know if my opponent viewed my philosophical point with clear eyes. If not, he might choose to don three-goggles. As the <i><a href="http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704893604576200631584014292.html?KEYWORDS=fernandez">Wall Street Journal</a></i>, I am their procreator! (After Nate McMillan <a href="http://www.columbian.com/weblogs/blazerbanter/2011/mar/18/blinded-goggles/">said</a>, "<i>they must be bifocals, because guys are blowing past us</i>" perhaps I should not be so proud!)</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">In any event, I cannot prescribe <i>tres puntos gafas </i>for Tyson Chandler. Peering down myopically, his eyes fogged with pride and fear, the three-point goggles are beyond his range.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">Fotos</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"> from the </span><i><a href="http://www.oregonlive.com/blazers/index.ssf/2011/03/trial_blazers_vs_mavericks_mar.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><b>Oregonian</b></span></a></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">bottom fotografía from the </span><i><a href="http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704893604576200631584014292.html?mod=WSJ_hpp_MIDDLE_Video_Third"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><b>WSJ</b></span></a></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">.</span></div>Bart Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08157500394147661880noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3253217506574735287.post-72466081134383982012011-02-27T10:50:00.000-08:002011-03-07T15:23:16.559-08:00¡Champú en la ropa interior!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Dth_YgyfcmjHSCn8L4RRSfzmAoutNdjE6Qi7unRaAD6MgpPQyOP_8vni7V22xOYBCOOvHTAeYuHiQ9RS74aAIJ855BGLe1v4L7MMot5pwFtwSWPjRPiMoH_6Edwgq48QX8ydTNyfcZ4/s1600/rudy+scarf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Dth_YgyfcmjHSCn8L4RRSfzmAoutNdjE6Qi7unRaAD6MgpPQyOP_8vni7V22xOYBCOOvHTAeYuHiQ9RS74aAIJ855BGLe1v4L7MMot5pwFtwSWPjRPiMoH_6Edwgq48QX8ydTNyfcZ4/s200/rudy+scarf.jpg" width="158" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">In all immodesty, I must share that my lanky frame has always been blessed with a measure of coordinations. <i>Por ejemplo</i>, there is the occasion of my first attempt playing at golf.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">On my home island of Mallorca, golf is thought of as a womanly sport (and rightly so!) by the scarred and weatherbeaten fishermen. So it was not until my adult years that I swung a club not intended to batter a fish’s brain matter. I remember being led onto a course by a comely golf instructor tightly clad in the synthetic fibers. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">She instructed, “<i>You see that green area about 400 yards from here? Try hitting the ball onto it</i>.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I did so. After trudging to the green area, I inquired, “<i>Now what?</i>”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Here eyebrows lifted. “<i>Now you hit the ball into that hole</i>.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>¡Santo vaca!</i> I laughed in surprise, gesturing back to where I had struck the ball. <i>“Why didn’t you tell me that back there?”</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglbyzSuSUyXPzB9Lke5bGCLi2oXOgjdF5LbigckiKl07C8hfMSV1Hyrd3g-OnEBGdyvAYRcIChTpCvLoQGXDmR-9k7zu7c3OwovwQZOged5JPQ2UYz03OeCiAYccpozz_yl6-gmsMMAPY/s1600/AP+Photo%253ARick+Bowmer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglbyzSuSUyXPzB9Lke5bGCLi2oXOgjdF5LbigckiKl07C8hfMSV1Hyrd3g-OnEBGdyvAYRcIChTpCvLoQGXDmR-9k7zu7c3OwovwQZOged5JPQ2UYz03OeCiAYccpozz_yl6-gmsMMAPY/s200/AP+Photo%253ARick+Bowmer.jpg" width="149" /></a>Perhaps she had assumed that because I am a Spaniard, time-efficiency is of disinterest to me. So I hope the <i>mujer de golf </i>viewed my time-efficient heroics in our recent match against the most reviled Denver Nuggets. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">As you can see in the <i>película</i>, the sands of time were slipping away when I catapulted the ball of destiny skywards. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>¡Pum— tres puntero!</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And after Brandon Roy hoisted his own heroic deed, we entered overtiming, and emerged victorious-ing!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><object height="349" width="560"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/MuxnKOUTXFQ?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&hd=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/MuxnKOUTXFQ?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&hd=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="349"></embed></object></div><div class="MsoNormal">These moments of conquest are almost enough to wash away a recent, bitter memory of mine. No, not the departure of Joel Pryzbilla, although that gritty giant is already missed. Nor the arrival of the silent ebon colossus known as Gerald Wallace. No <i>mi amigo</i>, I refer to the incident following our winnings against the New Orleans Hornets. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">In a fit of excitement following the match, Patty Mills committed an act most felonious. While I showered the grimes of competetition from my torso, the antipodean dwarf <a href="http://www.wweek.com/portland/article-16985-waiting_for_brandon.html">filled my underwear with shampoo</a>. Shampoo!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Most worse, the substance was some vile Australian cleanser that rendered my undergarment useless. (But even as I drove homewards without it, I smiled at Patty’s defense of the move: “<i>No worries, mate… I was just trying to put some roo in your ’do!</i>”)<br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Top <i>foto</i> from <a href="http://yardbarker.com/">Yardbarker.com</a>,</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Brandon Roy by <a href="http://www.blazersedge.com/photos/media-row-report-blazers-107-nuggets-106">Rick Bowmer for AP</a>.</span></div></div>Bart Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08157500394147661880noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3253217506574735287.post-79326874196216914012011-02-02T17:43:00.000-08:002011-02-03T14:21:15.334-08:00Lascivious Seating Arrangements<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDPe-7s1z-HrMC1HUkJdO0tKC6VClRyq0LsoYnC1y6Vd6BfYARSM888xAhw1Dz1wHh1soanzsEnQ6TybrH2SwOJ47bUqxfOzvKWIa6vcu2JzX6bXhWX7Mh8dRf4pVCg4QJ80HunUbFSXk/s1600/rudy+goes+for+the+steal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDPe-7s1z-HrMC1HUkJdO0tKC6VClRyq0LsoYnC1y6Vd6BfYARSM888xAhw1Dz1wHh1soanzsEnQ6TybrH2SwOJ47bUqxfOzvKWIa6vcu2JzX6bXhWX7Mh8dRf4pVCg4QJ80HunUbFSXk/s200/rudy+goes+for+the+steal.jpg" width="190" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">As a child lounging on Mallorca's sun-kissed sands, I received a fine education. <i>Por ejemplo</i>, I oft overheard grizzled fishermen tell the tale of Bernadino de Mendoza’s ambassadorial appointment to England.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It was the late 1500s, and Mendoza was shocked to attend an English church where women and men sat <i>together</i> in the pews. After the Spaniard vented his outrage to an English nobleman, the Englishman retorted:<br />
<br />
“<i>Such an seating arrangement would only be unthinkable in Spain. For there, men cannot rid themselves of lascivious thoughts even in the holiest of places!</i>”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Ah, how the fishermen chortled! </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwnIvMOuPyRSmAkz2zxCcKJoCTlVsi9KnDJxdAhghiVxVSsAdNDhZslSrn_6ZIRMioQcZBq_MIRBeXSqHcNG5cS8thTDA7ouZAYhkICKR7-VIfPR0NRtI7WODMr2GSIeAWCNQDumJyKb0/s1600/blog_22246_1237548602.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwnIvMOuPyRSmAkz2zxCcKJoCTlVsi9KnDJxdAhghiVxVSsAdNDhZslSrn_6ZIRMioQcZBq_MIRBeXSqHcNG5cS8thTDA7ouZAYhkICKR7-VIfPR0NRtI7WODMr2GSIeAWCNQDumJyKb0/s200/blog_22246_1237548602.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">For my part, I sometimes wonder how we players must carefully attend to a diagramming while choreographed undulations of the most intriguing sorts play out on the parquet. Is it unseemly to do the sidelong glancing? Perhaps.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>Naturalamente</i>, my mates and I are prohibited from interluding with these whirling sylphs. So why do they bat their lashes and call my name? Why, one non-ingenuous ingenue even chucked me under my bestubbled chin! </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAHPW-KTFP0AoNjrgNOxPZGkDoOCT3rPya4VoVjpY6bTMop1VqH2CenT-9N2oODPaGTPUTlQDKJGtJPoZ-c6gQY_a6KfQyLNj0gfgdXaWyTRosE-w-pDiVDXnFDRNNwd4QTgrNGfW8RS4/s1600/Eos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAHPW-KTFP0AoNjrgNOxPZGkDoOCT3rPya4VoVjpY6bTMop1VqH2CenT-9N2oODPaGTPUTlQDKJGtJPoZ-c6gQY_a6KfQyLNj0gfgdXaWyTRosE-w-pDiVDXnFDRNNwd4QTgrNGfW8RS4/s200/Eos.jpg" width="113" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">But chuck me not, Sirens of the hardwood. For there are countless tales warning of the danger of our heart’s desires. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Has no Blazer Dancer heard of Tithonus? He was a Trojan prince who the goddess Eos fell in love with. Besotted by the handsome youth, Eos begged Zeus to give Tithonus eternal life.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Her wish granted, Eos realized the error— she had failed to ask for eternal YOUTH as well! And so over the years, Tithonus transformed into an increasingly decrepit hobgoblin until the gods finally took pity on him.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><b>Adición</b></i>: I asked two Blazer Dancers if they knew of Tithonus. They stared in wonderment, until one of them spoke: “<i>Isn’t that something? He still can’t speak English!</i>”</div>Bart Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08157500394147661880noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3253217506574735287.post-86215449441326347522011-01-23T12:27:00.001-08:002011-01-23T12:27:33.014-08:00In which Michael Holton gives me "adversity"!<object height="317" width="520"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/v0-wgLufuwE?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/v0-wgLufuwE?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="520" height="317"></embed></object>Bart Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08157500394147661880noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3253217506574735287.post-83787802128191570102011-01-21T14:25:00.000-08:002011-01-21T16:25:01.554-08:00Stroking My War-Beard, I Throw Another Clipper into the Blaze!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWRszW959hGJG_H2uLUzIwHyCw_64VJHNi9F3dD9myYQMbSlTwcQ_f8_bH93EUIcWDTFCgGt3Jm3A-2BhHHfso-HaB9XZaOXLyCBFrYjN9I8PlIY_gycFjWhMe_sKG8hXBmSAyjnIKpds/s1600/rudy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWRszW959hGJG_H2uLUzIwHyCw_64VJHNi9F3dD9myYQMbSlTwcQ_f8_bH93EUIcWDTFCgGt3Jm3A-2BhHHfso-HaB9XZaOXLyCBFrYjN9I8PlIY_gycFjWhMe_sKG8hXBmSAyjnIKpds/s320/rudy.jpg" width="170" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">As the horn of victory was blown, I surveyed the scene. Fetid smoke rose from the Los Angeles Clippers’ bench, and airborne cinders of destruction danced in the spotlights.<br />
<br />
Oh, how the mighty beard of Baron Davis dripped with its owners bitter tears! Nearby, Eric Gordon’s globular head, a near-perfect reflection of a basketball’s outline, suffered partial deflation. And the ginger citadel known as Blake Griffin was caked with remorse ... <i>and</i> some of those brightly-colored streamers that descend from the pavilion’s rafters after a foe is vanquished!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Thus did I behold my handiworkings and fiercely smile a fearsome smile. Patty Mills approached deferentially, bowing and whispering, “<i>The carnage is complete. There is no further insult you can lay upon them. See how even now they drag bodies from the parquet? And among those who live and breathe, none dare meet your gaze</i>.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“<i>SILENCIO!</i>” I bellowed as the pint-sized native of Oceania cowered. “<i>‘There is no further insult’ possible? Dios mio, have you never heard of replays of the instant?</i>”<br />
<br />
“<i>No worries, mate!</i>” Patty brightly responded.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><object height="328" width="540"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/IeMF_gZqutE?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/IeMF_gZqutE?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="540" height="328"></embed></object></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">Foto from the </span></i><a href="http://photos.oregonlive.com/4450/gallery/trail_blazers_vs_clippers_jan_20_2011/index-2.html"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">Oregonian</span></i></a><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">.</span></i></div>Bart Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08157500394147661880noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3253217506574735287.post-29785910139124928912011-01-15T15:02:00.000-08:002011-01-16T10:11:46.829-08:00Loosen the Hamstrings of Your GullibilityThe following image may strain your credulousness, so please stretch it out before reading further.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Finished? Then I say to you that this <i>foto</i> is transmitted unto you by a most respectable correspondent; that is, a correspondent who is far from credulous himself, and who has no interest in deceiving others, to wit:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>Myself!</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">That said, behold the the fate of a backboarding that foolishly stood in my path during a match for team <i>España</i>!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdGS47i0v_1jx-o64gzzwsiFTiJLbb7pZt_Ll6wOHCgKxAWlRCOKqecahlFXK27G3hrlikACI4aRlkTEzefeA1Ny5iqNB-iAqbxlsyLim3boqLU6u0-XeiG7GQd6olD0aIIpEW_CZ80mM/s1600/image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdGS47i0v_1jx-o64gzzwsiFTiJLbb7pZt_Ll6wOHCgKxAWlRCOKqecahlFXK27G3hrlikACI4aRlkTEzefeA1Ny5iqNB-iAqbxlsyLim3boqLU6u0-XeiG7GQd6olD0aIIpEW_CZ80mM/s640/image.jpg" width="420" /></a></div>It is my most fervent desire to replicate this accomplishment in tonight’s match against the Nets of New Jersey. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1VWuIyyuIkpzejbN6mkcLKKklMvtIsx1tWurdfeg2F3aC6WhyJwR0keOaQlKmIwIw2-ooywQQFuiGgZbJDmteDUonLqhhLj5fwe9gP7SwjuBE1wylBzTXXNUniw0QcMeP8_vFSWIs_2A/s1600/machine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1VWuIyyuIkpzejbN6mkcLKKklMvtIsx1tWurdfeg2F3aC6WhyJwR0keOaQlKmIwIw2-ooywQQFuiGgZbJDmteDUonLqhhLj5fwe9gP7SwjuBE1wylBzTXXNUniw0QcMeP8_vFSWIs_2A/s320/machine.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>And if <i>THIS</i> individual is residing beneath the shards of falling plexiglass . . . ah, life would be sweet, <span style="color: black;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">¿</span></i></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">no?</span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><br />
</i><br />
<i><br />
</i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">Foto </span><a href="http://uolesporte.blogosfera.uol.com.br/videos/babby-destroi-a-tabela-em-vitoria-do-fla-na-liga-das-americas-2/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">via</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">.</span></i></div>Bart Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08157500394147661880noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3253217506574735287.post-67109859902147422152011-01-05T21:28:00.000-08:002011-01-06T06:31:22.193-08:00Plural Nouns and Houston Fans<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigy-d6FfD-7mGSSxZ5Gb7vr8GZCsh5_heKss1ELXjTKmDnW73fx0NIFiMP9cez1XFxzrALvCSSu7Uu711lq4NJA4fuGQKRKZqj-VkZl8zmgz3OzG1G5le1FeRKHPhTPq5XgkPseAmqSIw/s1600/aldridge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigy-d6FfD-7mGSSxZ5Gb7vr8GZCsh5_heKss1ELXjTKmDnW73fx0NIFiMP9cez1XFxzrALvCSSu7Uu711lq4NJA4fuGQKRKZqj-VkZl8zmgz3OzG1G5le1FeRKHPhTPq5XgkPseAmqSIw/s400/aldridge.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">Upon my arrival in Portland two years past, LaMarcus Aldridge took me on a motor-coach tour of the region. Already homesick, the cockles of my Mallorcan heart were warmed upon spying a host of water vessels anchored on the Willamette River.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“<i>Look, LaMarcus</i>,” I cried. “<i>A school of ships!</i>”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">LaMarcus smiled indulgently, and informed me that a grouping of ships was called a “<i>fleet</i>.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Sensing he was pulling wool over my orbs, I asked, “<i>Then what is a fleet of </i>sheep<i> called?</i>”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“<i>A flock</i>,” he replied. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“<i>And a flock of attractive women?</i>”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">LaMarcus paused. “<i>A bevy!</i>” he exclaimed. He continued on, relating that a bevy of wolves is a pack, but that a pack of cards is not a bevy. Further, he said that a pack of thieves (or sports agents) is called a gang, and a gang of angels is called a host, while a host of porpoises is termed a shoal. A host of cows is a herd, and a herd of children is called a troop, and a troop of partridges is termed a covey, and a covey of stars is called a galaxy, and a galaxy of ruffians is called a horde, and a horde of rubbish is called a heap, and a heap of bulls is called a drove, and a drove of drunks is called a mob, and a mob of whales is called a school (“<i>Back to school?</i>” I wondered), and a school of worship is called a congregation, and a congregation of engineers is called a corps, and a corps of robbers is called a band, and a band of locusts is called a crowd, and a crowd of NBA players is called an <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">elite</i>.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Ah, finally a word I recognize!” I cried in relief. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7PbRSzrS40Q-7d-ZHDdjANmfnGaADihTXjGONKrR1XOt0-q4drtnQ2lxo-cZ1yNLsxsLxxhnZnPBLnzF9dKy_8a3qGA2P1HSx6xTiJccM0ICKTfpzWOrMNodwV1FJOog3FH0qSl_lfXo/s1600/Rockets+fans+suck.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7PbRSzrS40Q-7d-ZHDdjANmfnGaADihTXjGONKrR1XOt0-q4drtnQ2lxo-cZ1yNLsxsLxxhnZnPBLnzF9dKy_8a3qGA2P1HSx6xTiJccM0ICKTfpzWOrMNodwV1FJOog3FH0qSl_lfXo/s320/Rockets+fans+suck.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">But I could not resist one more question. “<i>And what is a grouping of fans from Houston be called?</i>”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“<i>IDIOTS!</i>” LaMarcus responded, driving onwards.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A tip of the beret to</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 25px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">Charles William Bardeen.</span></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Top </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">foto</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> from</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"></span></span></span><a href="http://www.iamatrailblazersfan.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I Am a Trail Blazer Fan</span></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">.</span></span></span></div></div>Bart Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08157500394147661880noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3253217506574735287.post-89455487374821960522011-01-03T16:47:00.000-08:002011-01-03T16:48:03.247-08:00On the Propriety of Manhandling<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTdF1J5DbCls676zgr9Nf9PXGBhl0mQG4RVeZcryUbYyJGS51G9oRSet09zpPK1V38sjHdGi4sxNao1u0kgVWr42DhILPCQY3Zd7ChtEePfQL_Ve1Ng_zd3K7Pj1_p461FnCtAghRNfLA/s1600/Rudy+swats+LeBron.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTdF1J5DbCls676zgr9Nf9PXGBhl0mQG4RVeZcryUbYyJGS51G9oRSet09zpPK1V38sjHdGi4sxNao1u0kgVWr42DhILPCQY3Zd7ChtEePfQL_Ve1Ng_zd3K7Pj1_p461FnCtAghRNfLA/s200/Rudy+swats+LeBron.jpg" width="138" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">Fans of American-style basketballings are under the influence of the most violent, most insane, most delusive, and most transient of passions. As a Spaniard, I respect this! </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I have heard these enthusiasts swear that they will remain in that excited, abnormal, and exhausting condition continuously until death do them part. And again, this I applaud.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZExx0cMy0fq_RhUcMgyitrhx9E7npxbYhw4KvfSgIbxPT1iCsc4Rh9RQkbgIhLuDjUjnuxUdY5cS7TjeWGQqqLukCp3lSR_C0W5HrR8HzB-p5YDnGys3MVmWOh4_jlOkaoe6kdAdlQxU/s1600/rudy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZExx0cMy0fq_RhUcMgyitrhx9E7npxbYhw4KvfSgIbxPT1iCsc4Rh9RQkbgIhLuDjUjnuxUdY5cS7TjeWGQqqLukCp3lSR_C0W5HrR8HzB-p5YDnGys3MVmWOh4_jlOkaoe6kdAdlQxU/s200/rudy.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Foto</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"> from the </span></span><i><a href="http://photos.oregonlive.com/oregonian/2011/01/spblazersrockets_be_5849_2011-.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Oregonian</span></span></a></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">But I prefer NOT to hear these words while my exotic regions are in their clutches!</div>Bart Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08157500394147661880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3253217506574735287.post-74704083081227346062010-12-31T15:52:00.000-08:002010-12-31T15:52:04.745-08:00A note to mi amigo, Patty Mills<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl4KBm5B2TOSYYao4k9-8x4XOIiFwHW4XluV9T2thDOjVyGA1ZZza4cvdjVgw7mjgP9qVG5lo6CQJr7uP-jJ9Ecn3b7cuZw5V4JWaiSY7WWyqyXdhDZ66Npjv0DMX7ZTWwBMX8Q4aoR-k/s1600/patty+mills.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl4KBm5B2TOSYYao4k9-8x4XOIiFwHW4XluV9T2thDOjVyGA1ZZza4cvdjVgw7mjgP9qVG5lo6CQJr7uP-jJ9Ecn3b7cuZw5V4JWaiSY7WWyqyXdhDZ66Npjv0DMX7ZTWwBMX8Q4aoR-k/s1600/patty+mills.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">From </span><a href="http://photos.oregonlive.com/oregonian/2010/12/trail_blazers_vs_jazz_32.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">El Oregonian</span></a></span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">That's not how you do it.</span>Bart Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08157500394147661880noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3253217506574735287.post-1515286107728149672010-12-29T16:22:00.000-08:002010-12-29T16:23:17.997-08:00J.R. Smith is all that exists (to J.R. Smith!)<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmsJ2f7Y-U4_4FiJhxgnyeKE1wA_2XLYZsZwPkBQaVtgI4nB01DFZfkc138Nl1Wnqjy4UZZuwGtuZmcwqyPiEsgsVvuUuBt188o6sJEhs6qrGip6rFKB_0iKfsmh-luFhKVWlcHXX1Io0/s1600/9156108-large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="189" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmsJ2f7Y-U4_4FiJhxgnyeKE1wA_2XLYZsZwPkBQaVtgI4nB01DFZfkc138Nl1Wnqjy4UZZuwGtuZmcwqyPiEsgsVvuUuBt188o6sJEhs6qrGip6rFKB_0iKfsmh-luFhKVWlcHXX1Io0/s200/9156108-large.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"I see . . . me!"</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>During the blow-outing that the Denver Nuggets meted out to us last evening, J.R. Smith made a most unwelcome gesture to our bench.<br />
<br />
Yes, after his successful launching at the distant basket, he donned the <a href="http://blogderudyfernandez.blogspot.com/2010/12/looking-glasses-and-three-goggles.html">three-goggles</a>.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://blog.oregonlive.com/nba/2010/12/blazers_nuggets_jr_smith_co-opts_3_goggles_gesture_all_in_the_fun_of_the_game.html">Blasphemy</a>? Perhaps. But my cogitation is that J.R. is misunderstood. You see, he is an armchair philosopher, though the armchair in question is threadbare. As J.R. is clearly centered around his own self, I once asked him if he was a solipsist during warm-ups.<br />
<br />
J.R. nodded uncertainly to my query. To make the Nugget more at ease, I identified myself as a solipsist as well.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">“<i>I’ve been a solipsist all my life</i>,” J.R. responded. “<i>I’m surprised there aren’t more of us.</i>”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>Foto</i> from the <i><a href="http://blog.oregonlive.com/nba/2010/12/blazers_nuggets_jr_smith_co-opts_3_goggles_gesture_all_in_the_fun_of_the_game.html">Oregonian</a></i>.</span></span></div>Bart Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08157500394147661880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3253217506574735287.post-7424198199262981552010-12-22T13:47:00.000-08:002010-12-22T13:47:20.993-08:00Looking Glasses and Three-Goggles<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjYECibZ2EtAV5V2l52kx10IAyoCnpcLXjZyxUIryKviKU6T-FyHMpN7bjp1rNGapGFguFdLoJwUeQuBDvk4LAhp9FEkoUuuMyAlIrIanIhjdl9v_t_FsHKqUu8GYQXC8t3RMyzESXofs/s1600/joel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjYECibZ2EtAV5V2l52kx10IAyoCnpcLXjZyxUIryKviKU6T-FyHMpN7bjp1rNGapGFguFdLoJwUeQuBDvk4LAhp9FEkoUuuMyAlIrIanIhjdl9v_t_FsHKqUu8GYQXC8t3RMyzESXofs/s200/joel.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">In my childhood home in Mallorca, my bedchamber was wallpapered with mirrors. I would stand between the looking glasses and shoot the basketballs of Nerf. Doing so, I could see an infinite number of Rudys shooting as one!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This led to issues of profundity. Which Rudy through the looking glass was the real one? Was I me? Or was I the me who was once-reflected? Or thrice-reflected? </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRtBSY-a8rD7cNRsvDDV_5sWzxDNBLghUrjOg8vQGBdC5fqTuOiQaZQC3cd60UlT4rUbVueehVM3q5TGQxoA5zmPvkJnQhr9WkPRSebG-RvLAGEycl0i_Gy1FaSLnNCJIz_ersKGFHkNM/s1600/Rudy+wears+three+goggles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRtBSY-a8rD7cNRsvDDV_5sWzxDNBLghUrjOg8vQGBdC5fqTuOiQaZQC3cd60UlT4rUbVueehVM3q5TGQxoA5zmPvkJnQhr9WkPRSebG-RvLAGEycl0i_Gy1FaSLnNCJIz_ersKGFHkNM/s320/Rudy+wears+three+goggles.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>This was my first confrontation with the deep nature of existence.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It was also my last. I have better uses of my time! And with these much-ballyhooed “<i>three goggles</i>”, I see reality for what it is! </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">To be sure, not all of my mates agree. While Patty Mills is also an enthusiastic wearer of three-goggles, he still enjoys discussions on the layers of reality. In fact, he phoned me today to engage in just such a debate. But I made a pre-emptive thrust of the sword.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“<i>Patty, are you at home?</i>” I asked.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“<i>Yes, I am, mate. Why?</i>” said the antipodean point guard.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“<i>Because I am also at home. And that means that this argument cannot be resolved. We are arguing from two different premises!</i>”<br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><i>Top photo from </i></span></span><a href="http://www.truthaboutit.net/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><i>TruthAboutIt.net</i></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><i>,</i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><i>Rudy by </i></span></span><a href="http://twitpic.com/photos/britty_d"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><i>Brittany Davidson</i></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><i>.</i></span></span></div></div>Bart Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08157500394147661880noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3253217506574735287.post-80968213961185149892010-11-10T15:43:00.000-08:002010-11-10T15:47:35.733-08:00¡Cogito, Ergo Sum Fantastico!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiapr3e_XRTpfpP5SPjBh77kfINk6pfvQOH3ZjSa2Kg00yOdmLYIfTsoqQAinHffaEvx8FEV2d5i-w4JtzXm5w5bOZQnp7NGHYqjJ9ggFENO31qO-pWCfRH91p2nCi9YtCOxdNZFIMz-v0/s1600/3337757100_2302d829e8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiapr3e_XRTpfpP5SPjBh77kfINk6pfvQOH3ZjSa2Kg00yOdmLYIfTsoqQAinHffaEvx8FEV2d5i-w4JtzXm5w5bOZQnp7NGHYqjJ9ggFENO31qO-pWCfRH91p2nCi9YtCOxdNZFIMz-v0/s200/3337757100_2302d829e8.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">How many years does it take to become a man? At 22, Alexander the Great had crushed the Illyrians, razed Thebes, and kicked Darius and his immense Persian Empire in the nether regions. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">At 23 tender years, René Descartes shocked the world of philosophy with his revolutionary thoughts. And when Napoleon possessed only 24 <i>annums</i>, he overthrew the enemies of the French Republic! </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrPbbVGvJoVHMn5sKKO8MGDHRJXcgKdGOztpXZduB7dOuuYsqMfzLLHrs-5N_4DSkHq5KEV6JGIqrhC3ikj3aY6qe_QW4SdxwcsCpCM1oo4j6b4TMUr91Th029tVf9pM2Jq2jiXUVc5II/s1600/roy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrPbbVGvJoVHMn5sKKO8MGDHRJXcgKdGOztpXZduB7dOuuYsqMfzLLHrs-5N_4DSkHq5KEV6JGIqrhC3ikj3aY6qe_QW4SdxwcsCpCM1oo4j6b4TMUr91Th029tVf9pM2Jq2jiXUVc5II/s200/roy.jpg" width="140" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">But Brandon Roy is now a venerable 26. And he claims to have <a href="http://www.oregonlive.com/blazers/index.ssf/2010/11/blazers_insider_brandon_roys_k.html">voyaged over the hill</a>! </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So it is written, so it shall be. Roy is an <i>hombre viejo</i>, gray of beard and creaky of limb. And this opens the minutes of playing time for me? Then with the vast capacities of youthfulness that being a year younger than Roy endow me with, I will show fans fine play...and even finer <i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_156209706">chalupa</a></i><a href="http://blogderudyfernandez.blogspot.com/2009/02/pressure-of-chalupa.html"> shots</a>!</div><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/z7IME4gnwcs?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/z7IME4gnwcs?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br />
<div style="text-align: right;">Top foto by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/babasteve/3337757100/">Steve Evans</a>.</div>Bart Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08157500394147661880noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3253217506574735287.post-80668289415150142962010-10-31T16:38:00.000-07:002010-12-22T16:53:47.274-08:00Culturally Shocked<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPHqZzZUGkcAl2aOAhsHhXKQWUbJssAPnRwzgLMw8KTVXx3THPiLk1sbVxLNEfF5r_KqyF3fNX8Qg45-VdCZ_Xwm9ZMOWQgvxKrziuNxLFGofPHZ9ybE2P76ElDoOYuyZM_f-XIAJcrSc/s1600/Ribbit_medium.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPHqZzZUGkcAl2aOAhsHhXKQWUbJssAPnRwzgLMw8KTVXx3THPiLk1sbVxLNEfF5r_KqyF3fNX8Qg45-VdCZ_Xwm9ZMOWQgvxKrziuNxLFGofPHZ9ybE2P76ElDoOYuyZM_f-XIAJcrSc/s320/Ribbit_medium.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paul Pierce from <a href="http://twitter.com/#!/paulpierce34/status/29319089003">here</a>.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>As an amateur herpetologist, I possess two queries:<br />
<br />
<b>1.)</b> Can anyone describe the antecedents of "Halloween"?<br />
<b>2.) </b>What exactly is its relationship to amphibians?Bart Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08157500394147661880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3253217506574735287.post-84607435847359544742010-10-29T11:17:00.000-07:002010-10-29T13:07:04.520-07:00A Colloquial Conundrum<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOH6XpUAbHBtX6U481uOEDwyDEi4vBHp2PkHmxuvvPntqsXeFVpdrRGaa5Xl9pDbxdP0PtWRBd4lOCL4kvgyzl3C9d7F21CWftoMCc2XaEIIDNeC3J3jAmdpMC-hkqxYF7Ho8altbz0DM/s1600/rudyf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOH6XpUAbHBtX6U481uOEDwyDEi4vBHp2PkHmxuvvPntqsXeFVpdrRGaa5Xl9pDbxdP0PtWRBd4lOCL4kvgyzl3C9d7F21CWftoMCc2XaEIIDNeC3J3jAmdpMC-hkqxYF7Ho8altbz0DM/s200/rudyf.jpg" width="116" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><a href="http://www.oregonlive.com/blazers/">The Oregonian</a></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Our Coach McMillan frequently instructs me to “milk the clock.” Yet try as I might, I see no <i>glándulas mamarias</i> upon the timekeeping device!<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">(Yet if I could find them, what strange <i>leche</i> would they produce?)</div>Bart Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08157500394147661880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3253217506574735287.post-87783088395385217042010-10-26T15:09:00.000-07:002010-10-26T15:16:05.198-07:00El Momento de la Verdad<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPThvxsZHff3ZgtbrbmBIe33DilNFPxbsMJCg8G8m5U7Jsdxlr55V0CTObdVw01Q6pViG0Cjxd8Z0H894e42y0AnDgyEaZd5eFoh2L0VONOcTXqcWBPImGCqvY0LBN-4KlJS6f94uN_YU/s1600/goran.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPThvxsZHff3ZgtbrbmBIe33DilNFPxbsMJCg8G8m5U7Jsdxlr55V0CTObdVw01Q6pViG0Cjxd8Z0H894e42y0AnDgyEaZd5eFoh2L0VONOcTXqcWBPImGCqvY0LBN-4KlJS6f94uN_YU/s400/goran.jpg" width="153" /></a></div>In mere moments, my mates and I begin our season with a tip-off against the Phoenix Suns and their noted assassin, Goran Dragic.<br />
<br />
The Slovenian's dread (yet oddly luminous) presence helps me put my memories of my ill-considered summer comments behind me. If I remember how much easier it is to remember what I would rather forget than remember, than remember what I would rather remember than forget, then I can’t forget how much easier it is to forget what I would rather remember than forget, than forget what I would rather forget than remember.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I hope that is clear. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9KPnf9zSkzYG4igkvMMXUMwsqJParGcOrjD51TxJQMcSk-6w_Hem048XJbxErNGU-Wse-308DjyDTislgA9wIR4SnRskhNO_b_AleEZuqQfILnA-cyPHreHCyW_vr7mwRc4I1A6Hu4Tc/s1600/Rudy+sticks+tongue+out.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9KPnf9zSkzYG4igkvMMXUMwsqJParGcOrjD51TxJQMcSk-6w_Hem048XJbxErNGU-Wse-308DjyDTislgA9wIR4SnRskhNO_b_AleEZuqQfILnA-cyPHreHCyW_vr7mwRc4I1A6Hu4Tc/s200/Rudy+sticks+tongue+out.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From the <i><a href="http://www.oregonlive.com/blazers/">Oregonian</a></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">For now, my spirits are high! You may think this is partially because we have now signed fellow Spanish speaker Fabricio Oberto? If so, you’re growing warm!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Is it because I now have a fellow brother-in-stubble? Now you are growing in your hotness!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl0zT7v5GJ9byN86fLbxHV_tPODvekpOK-ByNJgKeEnnv4s7lNDyw33wLMc_l3Q0Mcp-UiLCcaBQdud-oDsKEiBk8eL_CZ5n8OKd3gj9PwNXa1beCJtv1qTwIkUva7gLh8XNzemJYGxkY/s1600/fabricio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl0zT7v5GJ9byN86fLbxHV_tPODvekpOK-ByNJgKeEnnv4s7lNDyw33wLMc_l3Q0Mcp-UiLCcaBQdud-oDsKEiBk8eL_CZ5n8OKd3gj9PwNXa1beCJtv1qTwIkUva7gLh8XNzemJYGxkY/s200/fabricio.jpg" width="195" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">Is it because my bestubbled, Spanish-speaking mate <a href="http://www.fabrioberto.com/vinos.html">owns his own winery</a>? Ah, now the heat should burn like syrah in the eyes, <i>mi amigo</i>!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Bart Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08157500394147661880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3253217506574735287.post-89777727154579137092010-10-24T11:40:00.000-07:002010-10-24T19:44:43.231-07:00Tricks of the Devil & Womanish Surrender<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNdFXjK6P4mF-t029kfpDZtCEmHrn5pMJbFf_tXhH-bHPZu-HaBL8fgJg-mRnRxk6M-DmcC0l1Wa5HpgUR5-1njFlTMPjc2CLmEjfybWVhhJuptwA9jzfgg786B20_AicgzrQYG1yMUaA/s1600/rudy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNdFXjK6P4mF-t029kfpDZtCEmHrn5pMJbFf_tXhH-bHPZu-HaBL8fgJg-mRnRxk6M-DmcC0l1Wa5HpgUR5-1njFlTMPjc2CLmEjfybWVhhJuptwA9jzfgg786B20_AicgzrQYG1yMUaA/s200/rudy.jpg" width="200" /></a>As my preseasonings have progressed, I have let my play do my speaking for me. And to be sure, my <i>estadísticas</i> have been most articulate!<br />
<br />
As for myself, I don’t wish to prattle further about my earlier stated wish to return to <i>España</i>.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlmDkAOGUHzx19Rb5TNaieXxwRX5QFovdfXDS9_Acht_lO3wUdbN3CHmrj7tO7n9xqiakqTSGNByfAJyDKU9m8T4O5_Fya3uTJbr_Ref0T-u-a8gSD3lj3k0uMljLxo2yZKJ99Uxruznc/s1600/tumblr_lanl92eykm1qet98po1_400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlmDkAOGUHzx19Rb5TNaieXxwRX5QFovdfXDS9_Acht_lO3wUdbN3CHmrj7tO7n9xqiakqTSGNByfAJyDKU9m8T4O5_Fya3uTJbr_Ref0T-u-a8gSD3lj3k0uMljLxo2yZKJ99Uxruznc/s200/tumblr_lanl92eykm1qet98po1_400.jpg" width="174" /></a></div>Yes, I dream of Barcelona, Madrid, and Mallorca nightly. Yes, I sometimes sit bolt-upright in bed speaking Catalan. But the trademark of a professional athlete is that he then returns to slumber without calling his agent and insisting on a trade. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So for the last time, I don’t want to talk about it!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifnhrLZiCVFdhcxjPTnH1eJa5uE9CmC3SAy88vi13xxvqAc1OP4iTdP8oMNk9eHIiHZbYFLJBs8RUR1NYz4fBkCCaOWrYhmCG2_08BxA68208IkfwijA4mSrVPg8eF390kyX8HVpK7_1U/s1600/shades.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="115" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifnhrLZiCVFdhcxjPTnH1eJa5uE9CmC3SAy88vi13xxvqAc1OP4iTdP8oMNk9eHIiHZbYFLJBs8RUR1NYz4fBkCCaOWrYhmCG2_08BxA68208IkfwijA4mSrVPg8eF390kyX8HVpK7_1U/s200/shades.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">But if I were to do so, I would say that it is not my task to inform the media of my every emotions. In the history of men, it is glorious action that provides all lessons for posterity. Do we need to know how <i>El Cid</i> felt when his conquest of Valencia was complete? Would it magnify the glory of Caesar to have a record of his sentiments when the assassins’ knives pierced his body? </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilt0HPss1j26ogBEPNXH6wZ9wcvHnrSPKoAJQzXCgtKFv7jk9jRfmwlexwzqKCc6aPAkMLt56W_YV2wDQpHGuDYUGj3uXQzLmKqpeTtl1abCh_l5GWFI4-TOePanihK2STwIK-xk0zuxA/s1600/O.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="130" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilt0HPss1j26ogBEPNXH6wZ9wcvHnrSPKoAJQzXCgtKFv7jk9jRfmwlexwzqKCc6aPAkMLt56W_YV2wDQpHGuDYUGj3uXQzLmKqpeTtl1abCh_l5GWFI4-TOePanihK2STwIK-xk0zuxA/s200/O.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">Actually, that might be of interest! Nonetheless, emotions are but tricks of the devil, sent to tempt us into doubt. No man of sense (<i>por ejemplo</i>, Andre Miller) pays them heed, for they are a surrender to womanish sentiment that should be concealed from the media if they cannot be suppressed in the heart. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">For I say, it is the task of every athlete —<i>El Machetero</i> included— to overcome our passions, not to trot them out in all their intensities for others to comment upon!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">P.S. <i>M</i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">amá</i>, how I miss you!<br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Bottom two </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">fotos</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> from the </span><i><a href="http://www.oregonlive.com/blazers/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Oregonian</span></a></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">.</span></div></div>Bart Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08157500394147661880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3253217506574735287.post-63505348881609560352010-10-10T17:37:00.000-07:002010-10-16T11:03:03.643-07:00In Which I Remove an Albatross (from my neck) and a Primate (from my backside) at the Same Moment!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXEH09phpLhnZ5WpG4kUZlEdtl7yR87A1PtGzIfypz4srmCpyQfvSu_f9CvVhMDQsmvQu62T7YkfKhp-N5LmY7uUcvrinNEWXTrowEMo_2lK9h0JA0BTVBRsIh0JQ3TzSNVZShBCWUw3U/s1600/ept_sports_nba_experts-199547515-1282309317.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXEH09phpLhnZ5WpG4kUZlEdtl7yR87A1PtGzIfypz4srmCpyQfvSu_f9CvVhMDQsmvQu62T7YkfKhp-N5LmY7uUcvrinNEWXTrowEMo_2lK9h0JA0BTVBRsIh0JQ3TzSNVZShBCWUw3U/s200/ept_sports_nba_experts-199547515-1282309317.jpg" width="160" /></a></div>Americans are sometimes surprised to learn that the Communist Party is the third largest political party in Spain. Thus, I know many Communists! In fact, in Mallorca this summer, I chatted amiably with a local Communist while sunning at the beach.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">“Rudy,” he asked me, “have you read Marx?”<br />
<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">To this I nodded and replied, “Yes, and I think it’s from the wicker chairs that the beach-goers sit upon.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHYStCesi93qfj2Dxs17BFcSBaOQLi2GT-deQhNU56s8HONi46WkvXOT5e3-KRi7BvOw9fv9ydpOcw_YNdpiNn_bZTuKT9EyFwPiXmGsUuTNcIw9qvYqijj45mrDlXzsnglqKCIb4LqDU/s1600/rudy+glowers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHYStCesi93qfj2Dxs17BFcSBaOQLi2GT-deQhNU56s8HONi46WkvXOT5e3-KRi7BvOw9fv9ydpOcw_YNdpiNn_bZTuKT9EyFwPiXmGsUuTNcIw9qvYqijj45mrDlXzsnglqKCIb4LqDU/s200/rudy+glowers.jpg" width="170" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Photo by Ben Golliver</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>This brings to mind some of my other off-court shenanigans this summer. As is known, I have variously:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>1.)</b> Requested a release from the Portland Trail Blazers.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>2.)</b> Demanded a trade from the selfsame team.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>3.)</b> Been fined $75,000 by the NBA.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">To explain myself, let me give an overview: In performing on the basketball courts, I play a function of vitality: I remake reality — embellishing or diminishing it— through the magic of my movements.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd4TgSzifmEMpDLx6_zCIb2aywhhwf0qhNxF1WJK9ypibEqRxXpgUpFrlUQ6Ga_u6Q8KGaVZP0GeD01GLhgvp_tsnqW9vBf3lQ3Q4RWm7qC75jKMUFQvyuLuAywly1FCRVUXTRmZEWN7I/s1600/101013.04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="73" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd4TgSzifmEMpDLx6_zCIb2aywhhwf0qhNxF1WJK9ypibEqRxXpgUpFrlUQ6Ga_u6Q8KGaVZP0GeD01GLhgvp_tsnqW9vBf3lQ3Q4RWm7qC75jKMUFQvyuLuAywly1FCRVUXTRmZEWN7I/s200/101013.04.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>So it is OFF the <i>parquets</i> as well. The contradictions I pose are not mere gratuities — I purposely perform them to fill in the insufficiencies of life! </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4H5_gkMfYsHZn3Agp6RcaEJrbaYPYUVq084oOFVKjN2d0PdZ5zhUVjxcaL4wIocPblpGkbG7d6yJPLLjPN03JGq68oYoumJLYqRW8X4YIhRVQoeE3aO6Ezi2Uqzc8rv9sID4KUX8yarE/s1600/yelling+Gary+Payton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="166" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4H5_gkMfYsHZn3Agp6RcaEJrbaYPYUVq084oOFVKjN2d0PdZ5zhUVjxcaL4wIocPblpGkbG7d6yJPLLjPN03JGq68oYoumJLYqRW8X4YIhRVQoeE3aO6Ezi2Uqzc8rv9sID4KUX8yarE/s200/yelling+Gary+Payton.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>You see, when life is full and absolute, and citizens are committed to their destinies with an all-consuming faith, an athlete performs no real service at all. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But when the faith if the peoples is shattered by crisis, it is necessary to believe in SOMETHING. This season and last, I saw people grow uncertain about the world (and afterworld!) they inhabit. Thus, my mercurial actions were designed to unite Portland in one absolute and trusting vision together once again: Namely, that I am an untrustworthy rapscallion!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9x7NM7wiJO4KaXSpvJMEepLmm98o5peygAFUd1jjTEiGmvJAGeG9wjXccvi-PHtZyyLlEfrcwe887nA-m7rMPHItwpYwXoma_ByeUprU0B9w3CJcfiVhWkbINmr1qEUZmHWxY04K1T-U/s1600/mike+miller.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9x7NM7wiJO4KaXSpvJMEepLmm98o5peygAFUd1jjTEiGmvJAGeG9wjXccvi-PHtZyyLlEfrcwe887nA-m7rMPHItwpYwXoma_ByeUprU0B9w3CJcfiVhWkbINmr1qEUZmHWxY04K1T-U/s200/mike+miller.jpg" width="163" /></a></div>Where did I come by such a wayward notion? It is well you ask. I was enlisted to this cause by a player who is so Machiavellian, so diabolical, he makes Iago resemble a leader of the pre-schoolers. (Gaze upon his visage if you dare!)</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And now that I have explained myself to you, can someone explain to ME why Pau Gasol and his mate Kobe Bryant were used to promote the FIBA World Championship?<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; line-height: 21px;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><object height="385" width="480"><param
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width="480" height="385"></embed></object></span>Rudy glowering <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; line-height: 21px;"><i>foto</i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; line-height: 21px;"> by </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; line-height: 21px;"><a href="http://www.blazersedge.com/">Ben Golliver</a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; line-height: 21px;">.</span></div></div>Bart Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08157500394147661880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3253217506574735287.post-75902521137251234162010-09-13T11:40:00.001-07:002010-09-13T11:40:43.634-07:00Do not do the weeping for Argentina (they won!)<object height="340" width="560"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9s_Ky_3VIGk?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9s_Ky_3VIGk?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object>Bart Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08157500394147661880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3253217506574735287.post-81008278951571632132010-09-02T10:40:00.000-07:002010-09-02T10:40:21.509-07:00O Canada!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6OL38F-c2O0BEMJ1F7y_27gEA8EKSu34jIWHNW4Lse8sF2-fY5aGEUc7HTEuIKvM6OZJUD8-eFVxJlrRtLUAtb-m4eR3CnOzdbd6OSPc3hUA1iymJg0llN6BY27jQNiVuxcaIybKNW-E/s1600/Canada.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6OL38F-c2O0BEMJ1F7y_27gEA8EKSu34jIWHNW4Lse8sF2-fY5aGEUc7HTEuIKvM6OZJUD8-eFVxJlrRtLUAtb-m4eR3CnOzdbd6OSPc3hUA1iymJg0llN6BY27jQNiVuxcaIybKNW-E/s400/Canada.jpg" width="310" /></a></div>We defeated you 89-67.Bart Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08157500394147661880noreply@blogger.com0