Prior to Thursday nights game, we went to dinner at a downtown establishment. I drank a Bud Light, ate a burger, and enjoyed some chips. When we got to the game, I enjoyed two glasses of Pabst Blue Ribbon. As for the game itself, there were 48 turnovers and 50 fouls.
Why do I tell you these things? Because something in the above paragraph made me queasy, and I'm honestly not sure what. It could have been any or all of the above; its up for debate, honestly. What's known for sure is that with 7:19 to play in the game, my stomach started speaking in unrecognizable tongues. These were not the dog whistle-esque rumblings that only people with ears attuned to a certain frequency can hear, either -- my buddy sitting next to me heard it, asked if I was alright, and was concerned for the continuation of my life precious when I dropped my beer to the ground and literally ran up the steps to the concourse while the game continued behind me. I spent the next several minutes in a vortex between Earth and some nether region, only vaguely aware of my surroundings.
Its at this point that I would like to apologize to anyone who happened upon the men's bathroom by the Wild Kingdom display at any point from the 6 minute mark until the final horn. If it makes you feel any better, know that a potential clothing disaster was averted, and that the Atomic Dump did not exit stage right too soon.
You think I'm making this up, but its true. And while it takes a big man to admit to having this happen to them, it takes a bigger man to laugh at that man. So congratulations, big man.
Why do I tell you these things? Because something in the above paragraph made me queasy, and I'm honestly not sure what. It could have been any or all of the above; its up for debate, honestly. What's known for sure is that with 7:19 to play in the game, my stomach started speaking in unrecognizable tongues. These were not the dog whistle-esque rumblings that only people with ears attuned to a certain frequency can hear, either -- my buddy sitting next to me heard it, asked if I was alright, and was concerned for the continuation of my life precious when I dropped my beer to the ground and literally ran up the steps to the concourse while the game continued behind me. I spent the next several minutes in a vortex between Earth and some nether region, only vaguely aware of my surroundings.
Its at this point that I would like to apologize to anyone who happened upon the men's bathroom by the Wild Kingdom display at any point from the 6 minute mark until the final horn. If it makes you feel any better, know that a potential clothing disaster was averted, and that the Atomic Dump did not exit stage right too soon.
You think I'm making this up, but its true. And while it takes a big man to admit to having this happen to them, it takes a bigger man to laugh at that man. So congratulations, big man.
*****
Is it at all concerning that Creighton was out-rebounded by 10 by Arkansas Pine-Bluff? You bet it is. One of the major concerns for this team coming into the year was rebounding, and its a bigger concern now than even pessimists might have imagined. Last year's squad was not exactly the Dennis Rodman All-Stars in terms of rebounding prowess, and their most consistent rebounder from that team graduated.
Without Dane Watts, it was a valid point of wonderment: where would the boards come from?
After the New Mexico game, I chalked up the rebounding problem to the Jays getting beat by bigger, more experienced post players. After last night's game, I can no longer make that argument with a straight face. Arkansas Pine Bluff was neither bigger nor more experienced, and yet their players were consistently in better position for rebounds.
My old high school coach used to preach that rebounding is 75% positioning, 25% desire and 25% size. He wasn't very good at math, a fact I liked to point out to him because I liked staying after practice to run extra laps. But his point is a good one: you don't have to be the biggest player on the floor to get rebounds. You just have to be in position, and want the ball more than the other guy.
Getting beat 40-30 on the boards, including 16-10 on the offensive glass, is becoming a trend, and its disconcerting. I don't yet know what it says about this team or what it means for their chances of a good season, but I suspect we'll have an awfully good idea after the next 10 days.
Here's a scary thought: the Jays won by 32 despite getting out-rebounded by 10. They were able to accomplish this because the Golden Lions had an inexplicable 30 turnovers, because the Jays tied a school record with 18 steals, and because the defense held the Lions to just 16-50 from the field.
The optimist this morning says, "Wow, the Jays won 82-50 even though they got massacred on the glass? Imagine what the score might have been if they'd rebounded better!"
The pessimist this morning says, "Good Lord, they got out-rebounded by Pine Bluff! If the Lions weren't so inept, they might have been able to pull an upset."
So, umm, Wow, the Jays won 82-50 even though they got massacred on the glass? Imagine what the score might have been if they'd rebounded better!
You bet.
*****
Today's Polyfro Player of the Game is brought to you by Cold Cock Malt Liquor. Its all just talk, unless its the one they call Cold Cock.
Sometimes, these things are sponsored by fake malt liquor pitched by Tim Meadows playing a Billy Dee Williams-inspired debonair on a twenty-year old episode of Saturday Night Live. And sometimes, these things pick themselves. On a night where there wasn't a plethora of great performances, Cavel Witter's line sticks out.
5-7 from the floor, 2-4 from behind the arc, 3-5 from the line, 2 rebounds, 4 steals, 15 points in 20 minutes. Good stuff.
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