Somwthing to Think About Warrior Fans

Courtesy of my good friend and Oxford scholar, Dell Martin verbatim from an email this mornings. Defiantly something for you Warrior fans out there to consider and ponder.

"Last season everyone was on about the W's possibly winning 70, but this year  no one seems hardly to notice that they might be the third team ever to get there (the second team, if you count last year). I actually did the math."

The [Warriors] are presently at .860 for the first 50 games. . . 43/7. If they finish the season at .860, they would win 70.5 games. If you look at the last 30 games, they are 26/4. . . that is .86666. If they finish at that pace,they will be at 71 wins for the season. I just don't get it why everyone is sort of yawning about it. . . and then last night they beat the Clippers without Livingston, ZaZa and Green. Well, they could take a bad stumble any time, but that was true last season too."

I am submitting Dell's name to the league to be considered for an Analytics Award. The math looks pretty good to me, but I flunked multiplication tables.

Have to congratulate Coach Tara Vanderveer on her 1,000th victory. Forget gender, she IS Stanford University Basketball.

Note: In last night's last second loss to the Suns, How the hell did the best shooter, arguably the best player on the Suns, Devin Booker, get the ball isolated one on one with 8 ticks left????? You gotta be kidding me.

Finally, lot's of love to Anderson Varejao, released by the Warriors, but much appreciated by the team. The Brazilian power forward had a solid and admirable 14 year career in the NBA, 12 with the Cleveland Cavs who should retire his number. Per 36 mpg with the Cavs he double/doubled. A true pro. God Speed. 

It's mid-winter and the sport of Curling is coming to us live, huge from Duluth, Minnesota. Watched it last night, and felt compelled to post my Curling poem, although I posted a couple of years ago in winter. What the heck, in any poem I feature my wife, I like.

Curling   by Tom Meschery

Let's hear it for Curling, a sport in which
two brooms, like blockers in the NFL
(I'm thinking Packers, Greenbay in the snow)
lead the running back, a guy named Stone
(not exceptionally fast, but relentless)
down the icy field; masked fans in parkas,
sipping from flasks. They're watching curling
on local ice, while I'm enjoying building
this extended metaphor, thinking that Milton,
had he a sense of humor, which there's no
evidence he possessed, might have appreciated.

My wife also enjoys curling. "What's not to like
about a sport played with brooms?" she asks.
"The ice needs cleaning, and the players
are only doing what any good wife would do."
She's talking to me wile dusting,
which comes before vacuuming, a rule
in her sport that must never be broken.