My Pro Basketball Experience

This pic of me at the game didn’t come out so good

Last Sunday we went to Boston for a Celtics game. I’m no sports fan. In fact, the last pro sports event I attended was a Dodgers baseball game. When they were still in Brooklyn (and Ike was president).

But my wife is a basketball aficionado, and we’ve been hosting a gal from Somaliland who plays it in high school. So I went with them.

I really enjoyed the fan-cam and people’s reactions seeing themselves on the jumbotron. Most didn’t immediately realize they were having their fifteen nanoseconds of fame. A few never did, eyes glued to their phones. Most did exuberant dancing and arm-waving.

One woman grabbed her husband’s head and kissed him on the lips. But I thought the most romantic one was the gal holding up a sign saying, “Marcus Smart will you marry me?” — until (silly me) I learned Smart is a Celtics player, not (presumably) her inamorata.

The game itself was less entertaining. Very much the same thing repeated over and over. Speaking of repetition, the jumbotron kept showing the word “DEFENSE” in giant block letters crashing down and crushing a bunch of what appeared to be pick-up sticks.

And the crowd would duly pick up the chant, “DEFENSE! DEFENSE!” I waited, in vain, for a little offense; especially as the Celtics’ defense was being crushed by the San Antonio Spurs.

They lost 486 to 9. Or something like that.

Wrong

I am no basketball expert. Yet I could have advised one thing to improve their score: doing free throws underhand (“granny style”) rather than overhead. Studies have in fact been done, and it’s proven that the former gives a higher success rate. Yet players universally ignore this. Why? They think it looks girly, not macho. So Vince Lombardi was actually wrong — winning isn’t the only thing.

Anyhow, some fans were deflated by the Celtics’ drubbing. Some even left early, in disgust, or perhaps to avoid the traffic crush. But most seemed to have a good time nevertheless. Even sports nuts ultimately understand that these games are Not Really Truly Important. They’re harmless. At least we no longer gather in stadiums to watch combatants literally kill each other.

And at least these Celtics fans wore green hats, not red ones, and their chants weren’t hateful.

And I achieved my own personal goal for the evening: home and snug in bed by 1:30 AM.

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