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The Celtics were playing Toronto on television one night a
couple years ago, when things began to get confusing. Sports
announcers have a died-in-the-wool habit of referring to all
but the most famous contestants by just their last names, a
method so ingrained that they usually neglect to get more specific
when there are players on the floor with the same name on their
backs, which is a surprisingly common occurrence.
In that game, three players named Williams were on the floor
at the same time, along with two named Brown, split roughly
equally between the teams. Play-by-play rapidly descended into
a mystifying blur of what sounded like the same two players
scoring or over and over, while being defended by themselves,
frequently rebounding or even blocking their own shots, all
while switching at will between playing for one or the other
team.
I'm not a fulltime couch coach, (or more formally, a Couch
Potato/Analyst), but I tend to follow games pretty closely when
I do watch, always wanting to stay up on the action and, most
important, be able to speak authoritatively about what's going
on with whoever's around. But how could Williams continue to
do things like waiting at the scorer's table to come in while
arguing with the ref over the foul just called while he was
fighting himself for position? It was just too hard to keep
straight.
Since that particular basketball game, I started noticing
the astonishing number of players throughout all the major sports
that sport one of the handful of most common big-league last
names, and saw that it's a source of widespread confusion and, most
seriously, possible misdirected fan activity.
That night, it soon became impossible to keep the teams orderly
in my mind, and a sleepiness started to slide in, as my mind
lost its grip on trying to figure out who had done what to whom.
The trumpets of the early television sports shows began to sound
in the background, their grave voices to boom with authority
once more, and I slipped into a dream of a perfect game with
the immortal names...
It was one of the most fervently debated, over-anticipated sporting
events of all time. But no one left disappointed -- instead,
they filed out in dumbstruck awe. Sports had never seen a bigger
collection of not just stars, but all-time greats, in one contest.
And never had they delivered as fully on the promise of the
game, of spectacular plays, heated rivalries, and a close finish
decided at the last, pulse-pounding moment.
Yet few on that day understood how revolutionary that greatest
of All-Star games was for the sport itself. Perhaps it was the
almost inconceivable performances of so many great athletes
that overshadowed the astonishing, groundbreaking plays that
were made, feats of both athleticism and rule interpretation
that no one had seen the likes of before, or have since.
Naturally, it was a controversial game before it even started,
with Jackson, the East's coach, slyly tweaking the West's manager,
Johnson, calling his championship the previous year an "asterisk"
title because of the lockout-shortened season. Johnson didn't
miss a beat, reminding everyone that it took Jackson many more
games to best his record for career coaching wins, and that
his rival's team doctored the ball at home games. Jackson came
back with the gibe that Johnson was still sore about losing
Williams to him in the draft, tossed in a putdown of Johnson's
aging stars, and it all went downhill, at speeds up to 120 miles
per hour, from there.
The game was close all the way. At the tip, the East sent
their lead-off hitter, Williams himself, to the tee, as Johnson
kicked off on the mound for the West. The Western defense, led
by Jackson, brought him down on their own 45 yard line, but
the East's best guard, Williams, made a spectacular dish to
Jackson in the corner who nailed a three and scored on Johnson's
sacrifice.
Smith, finally, grabbed the ball, tagged the runner, nimbly
toed the bag, and threw to Jones, who hit a beautiful 300-foot
drive that landed just short of the green. Brown took him out
with a vicious cross-check and was hit with a technical, his
9th of the game. Jackson benched him for the rest of the contest,
in what many now view as the turning point for the East, and
put in Smith.
As the quarter began, the West had the middle of its order
up. Jones had finally mastered Brown's power serve, and came
roaring back from a terrible 0-4, 12 over par start to serve
up a series of timely assists to Davis, after all this time,
a nice surprise for everyone on his team. Robinson ran a cross
cut and got wide open but was picked off first, so Gonzalez
inbounded the ball to Davis, who hit his 100th career triple-double
with 3:50 remaining on the difficult 16th hole off the reliever
Robinson.
Early in the fourth and up by one, Gonzalez came in to lay
down a beautiful bunt (when coach had signalled punt,) which
moved the runner over to close with a respectable 3:50 average
time. Brown hit a towering home run off a pass from Jones that
was ruled out by the goaltending call on Robinson, but Williams
faked left and passed to Jackson, who handed off to - who else
but Johnson? - who swept in for the score.
As the game rushed headlong to the crossroads of lifelong
celebrity and crushing failure, with 30 seconds remaining and
the tying run on second, all hell broke loose when Johnson switched
his lineup, substituting a striker for a closer and ordering
his never-say-die team to foul Smith as soon as he touched the
ball. After the famously fateful face-off, Brown signalled to
his teammates as he brought the ball up, with a 98-mph pitch
that found Jones under the net for the knockout punch.
Then, on the final, apocalyptic play, with two outs and down
by one, Jackson stroked the ball over the fence and it swished
as Johnson kicked for the penalty and lashed the puck into the
back of the net. Williams sank a 30-foot putt as he dove into
the endzone -- and the buzzer sounded! The crowd sat stunned
-- nobody could believe what had just taken place, right before
their eyes.
Even to this day, each and every one of those 14 million fans
who claim they were at that game, and the five billion more
who say they watched it on television, enjoy a small reknown
of their own. For it was an impossible play, but
they swear they saw them do it -- Williams, Jackson, and Johnson,
winning the game on the final play, as they have so many times
before.
===
(c) 2005 by Bill Ross
(Permission is given to reproduce
this article
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We
come to praise the Biggest Names in sports
And
Celebrate their Greatest Game
Along
Similar Lines
(other
sporting satires
by BR) :
Phil
Jackson for President!
Make M.J.
the V.P., then let him win the big games for the country!
Dance
Vs. Hoops
A move
to the basket is evaluated as success or a failure, increasing
accountability to the public. Dance struggles as a business
because it lacks this clear demarcation of value
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