The Big Lie 33 1/2: Wherein Time is Bided and Basketball is Watched

Oh yes, there was food. Good, plentiful committee food. Sometimes it was a sandwich ring and pickles. Sometimes it was cheese trays and crackers. Sometimes it was little Swedish meatballs eaten from festive colored toothpicks. Sometimes it was pizza, the delicious coin-of-the-realm food disk God himself gave us.

What's more, during the basketball contests, there was quiet. The only sound was a half-dozen ballpoints scribbling on greenbar (Where did they get all that greenbar? Do they even make that stuff any more?).

I watched the games of the NBA Finals from my easy chair fully sated and in good, if earnest, company. During commercial breaks, the Coalition Against Robot Basketball (or CARB for short) discussed the moral and ethical implications of automated hoops with such conviction that I began to support their cause myself.

And yes, it went seven.

The first two games were won going away by the home team, the Spurs of San Antonio. These Spurs were led by the soulful Tim Duncan and the exotic Manu Ginobli.

Back in the Lab, I've been testing out a theory that the basketball squad consisting of players with the coolest names will generally win a seven game series. A careful statistical analysis of the names of all players yielded the following result: The coolest name in basketball is "Manu Ginobli".

Go ahead, say it out loud. "Manu Ginobli"

Sorry for that slight diversion. Call it scientific curiosity. Heck, if you're Tom Cruise, you can call it Soft Science.

The next three games were played in Detroit, Michigan. Hold up your right hand and look at the palm. Detroit is roughly ("roughly" is an adverb that commonly applies to goings-on in Detroit, by the way) at the base of your thumb. This is how you locate places in Michigan. Technically, I guess, this is also a diversion. Let's get back to hoops.

The Pistons of The Base of Your Thumb crushed the Spurs of Saint Anthony* in games three and four. Rip Hamilton (a name which scores high on NBA coolometry software, by the way) was instrumental in these wins. Whenever Rip had the ball, the gentle scratching of a half-dozen ballpoints stopped totally in my living room.

At this point in the Series, several reputable basketball scientists proffered the theory that the Home Team generally wins basketball games. Compared to the Cool Names Theory, this new conjecture seemed preposterous, but I was willing to keep an open mind until San Antonio was able to squeak out an overtime victory on the road.

The road show headed back to Texas, where Detroit was once again victorious. Home team indeed!

There we sat. All seven of us. Me, the Little Lady, and the six other members of the CARB alliance. We were each of us, for our own reasons, glued to our seats. Figuratively. It was game seven, the series was tied. Winner take all, you know.

At this point, a fairly unlikely event occurred. I realized that I could come clean, tell the actual truth and avoid a National Calamity televised on CSPAN. Missing game seven of such an epic series would be ample punishment.

I would atone.

Then another though occurred to me:

"Nah."

(to be continued)





*San Antonio helps you find lost objects. It's really uncanny.