"Epic" Battle

The Hawks came to town tonight. And that was the good news.

It started out rough: I made myself a lovely roasted beet, pear, and wilted dandelion salad, but in roasting the beets, I got in the wife's way and she didn't get to make her dinner (a good source of vitamin A, four essential B-vitamins, iron, and fiber) and eat it until pretty close to game time. Though honestly, getting to the game a few minutes late and missing whatever Arizona Idol reject was going to be singing the anthem wouldn't kill either of us. We have low tolerances for shrieking.

So we hit the road about 25 minutes before tipoff. That's not bad at all. We can zip down the 51 and get parked in our primo lot in time for Ced to command us to "stand up, Stand UP and MAKE SOME NOISE!" I'm driving the batmobile, so I can make up a few minutes with no effort whatsoev...

...what the hell?

Multi-car rollover accident. Traffic's backed up for three miles and shunted off to surface streets. This would have been an awesome thing for the DOT or Highway Patrol to have indicated at the entrances and exits prior to the long span from which there is no escape. I just hope none of the people in traffic had anywhere important to go. We obviously didn't.¹

We finally get off the highway - by the way, kudos to the coppers for pulling over the scofflaws driving in the shoulder. ALL of them got yanked and ticketed from what we saw. A few miles on surface streets, back to the 51, and with no traffic we just cruise on down. A little trouble at our parking lot since we're now almost an hour late, but we get to block partially one of the exits (we'll have to leave the game a few minutes early so as not to be cuh-rushed) and go into the arena.

There's about five minutes left in the half at this point and the Suns look like crap. They're not communicating, not paying attention to each other, and not crashing the offensive glass at all. That's not a huge problem when you're hitting your shots, but tonight, not so much.

Pat Burke played 8:57 in this game and it wasn't close, if that gives any indication of how dire were the straits. It's fun and all to root for the lad, just like Paul Shirley sightings were always welcome, but in a game like this, I could do without the burking from his sloppy passes and poor decisions.

For a stretch in the third, things were looking up. Then they weren't. Simple as that. Basketball is a game of runs, and the Suns just didn't have enough runs in them tonight to match the boys from the ATL.

Of course, Iliad and Odyssey² in the seats behind us whined about every officiating "slight" and "bad" call. I saw only two bad calls (one actually seemed to be correct, but it was made in an odd way) while we were there, but I'm not quite that blinded by fandom. It helps that I'm an interested, though not passionate fan of the team.

So, an adequate evening of entertainment, preceded by a tasty dinner and shitty drive. A normal Friday night in PHX.

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¹ No. I don't feel bad for the injured/dead. I'm a cold-hearted bastard. It takes really high-level incompetence to roll a car on a dry, straight road, and I'd rather that trait not be passed on to future generations of drivers. If that sentiment, from me, is a shock...you must be new.
² (In best Dennis Miller voice): a couple of Homers