Tuesday, 13 November 2012

Rap vs Jazz

Toronto Raptors vs Utah Jazz

Last night was really awesome; to be at an NBA game live just blew my mind.

I was exciting simply approaching the Air Canada Centre. Problem is, I don't think that the security guys at the entrance received the memo that it was my first game, therefore tres exciting. They really should have been more happy and less surly.

We entered, looked to the left, and saw the boys doing their commentary:

You can tell they were sad that I wasn't a part of their team

Crazy how I thought the court would seem bigger. I know how big a b-ball court is, it just seemed sort of tiny. Like, for sure I could run up and down it 150 times and it be no biggie. I'd just have to ensure that Archie was fully charged.

Also...

Funny how small the players looked from where we were sitting and trust me, we were close. I could practically see the beads of sweat dripping off heads and onto the floor.


At half time a member of the Raptors management tapped me on the shoulder, said that he heard I was awesome, and asked me to help out. So I threw on a jersey and zipped down to the bench. With 6.45 minutes to go in the 3rd quarter, Dwayne (coach) signaled for me to sub in. 

I don't know how to tell you this. But...

The officials kicked me out of the game. Said I was cheating. It may have been one of two things:

A) My amazing skills; quick pivots, stealth-like steals from the Jazz, unprecedented slam dunks. They were convinced that I was on something illegal, as nobody has ever been as great as me. Look for me on the cover of December's issue of Sports Illustrated.

OR

B) They said Squeaker was the 6th man on the floor...and ordered him to leave. The audacity! I couldn't let him roll off by himself; we're a team.

It really doesn't matter why my professional basketball career lasted longer than most celebrity marriages, and shorter than an episode of 'Here Comes Honey Boo Boo', what matters is that I'm the best in the league and now you all know that too.

Only the 1st of 3 overtimes

The game got ridiculous. The Raptors were winning, up by 11 at one point in the 4th quarter, and we thought everything was Raptastic. 

Then...

Al Jefferson sunk a 3 pointer with only 2.4 seconds remaining on the clock. Like, Really????

I made it through one OT, until my lungs started slinging nasty words around. I just hack it. Too tired. Too short of breath.

Just so we're clear, if that had been vs the Lakers, I would have chucked my lungs in the garbage and stayed.

We flagged down a cab and listened to the 2nd OT on the way home. Just as we were dropped off, a 3rd overtime was announced.

I started watching from the Air Canada Centre, continued listening on the way home and finished on my couch. 

Result: They lost. 140-133. I left: The most plausible explanation for them losing.

As far as my lungs...let's just say that there will be no parties in the Carver condo tonight.

I'm struggling. Part of the dealio. Oral antibiotics have been ordered.

1 comment:

  1. I thought the game was in the bag for the Raptites...little did I know you were fleeing the scene (I saw that jump shot by the way and I swear you did NOT foul the guy!) If a guy can't take a little tickle to the ribs he should just go play football instead!

    So glad you got to catch sweat! Take those drugs, get comfy on those pillows and get your kickers back in action...Carla's first games night is coming up next week!

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