Month: November 2001

Covering my first NBA game, I didn’t quite know what to expect. I’ve always loved the NBA and so in many ways being able to watch a game from the floor was a dream come true and being able to talk to the players only made the event that much sweeter.

But I have to admit, getting a pat on the butt and a wink from Dana Barros as he and the other Pistons charged onto the court at the beginning of the fourth quarter wasn’t what I had in mind when I switched my major from history to journalism. I guess I expected something a bit more austere. But still, writing about sports is more interesting than writing about MLG&W so I pressed on.

Besides, maybe Barros’ greeting served to prepare me for the events to come. I later learned that the media pass hanging around my neck granted me universal access. So after the game when the rest of the reporters rushed to the locker room, I followed and waited in the hall with everyone else.

After a few minutes the doors were opened and everyone pushed in, all eyes darting past the stew of towels, muscles, tattoos and braids to find the stars. (I was cautioned against describing this scene as “a bag of mixed nuts.”) Someone spotted Shane Battier and all the reporters bum rushed him like he was a free food buffet. Shoving cameras in the obviously off-guard forward’s face they started showering him with questions (I couldn’t think of any).

“Shane, what did you think of tonight s game?”

But Shane had not even dressed yet. Looking embarrassed and under siege, he was pressed by the inquisitive masses up against the wall. In his boxers and surrounded by strangers (many of whom were bearing cameras, mikes, and very bright lights) – he had to give an impromptu press conference.

“It was intense,” said Shane, as he gently attempted to clear enough room in the huddle so that he could get one leg into his pants.

“Did you expect Stackhouse’s performance?”

“Stackhouse was tough,” he said as he puts his other leg in the pants.

“What do you think about how the team played” asked the Commercial Appeal s Geoff Calkins.

“It was a tough game.” Zip.

“It was a really choppy game,” continued Battier, putting one sock on.

At this point he looked resolved. He seemed to understand that this was to be his fate. He will be answering questions on camera, in his underwear, for the rest of his basketball career. Other reporters began yelling questions from the back of the herd.

“What about scoring, Shane?”

“Neither team shot very well,” he said as he put on another sock.

“How does the NBA differ from college.”

He slides his shirt over his head. “It]s different, but not in a bad way.” Shoe.

“We let this game get away.” The other shoe.

Perhaps a now fully dressed Shane can also get away.

A television crew from Spain was also in the locker, presumably to get post-game comments from Pau Gasol. But not being able to the find Pau, they reluctantly join the group of pushy local reporters. When Battier was first surrounded, the Spanish crew shoved their camera and mike on him too. Then, probably realizing that no one in Spain cares about Battier, they turned the camera and mike on me – apparently not yet realizing that no one in Spain cares about me either. So with a mike, camera and bright light in my face, I got my first question.

“What s it like to be a woman in the locker room?”

“Honestly, it s a little overwhelming,” I say, thinking that I never realized just how tall these guys were until I saw how much flesh they actually have.

As if on cue Grizzly guard Nick Anderson squeezed behind me, rubbing his damp towel (the only thing he’s wearing) against my arm. I’ve just learned that I m about ass-high to an NBA baller. This being the fourth time Anderson had brushed by me wearing only a towel I began to realize that this could be the hazing female sports reporters often say they must endure in order to be accepted. That or he was taking laps around the locker room.

The test, apparently, is this: How many times can a nearly naked man pass your sight line before you just give in and drop your eyes?

Trailing behind Anderson, Memphis’ favorite son Lorenzen Wright eased through the crowd , also wearing only a towel.

“Ren, how about a statement?” shouts George Lapides.

And all the cameras turn on Wright, now that Battier is dressed his post-game thoughts are no longer interesting.

Wright, however, is still naked, so it’s his turn to get dressed on camera.

“It s a disappointment,” Wright says, sliding his underwear on underneath the towel.

“We really wanted to win,” as he leans over to put on both socks.

“I don t think I ever wanted to win a game as much as I wanted to win this game,” his words beginning to flow readily. Wright seems almost comfortable talking to strangers wearing only slightly more than his birthday suit.

In fact he and Anderson seem to have decided to forego clothes for the moment. Presumably giving interviews au naturel is not so awkward after all.

A girl could get used to this.

It’s hours before tip-off on the night of the Grizzlies’ season opener and the Pyramid is buzzing. Everyone is antsy, excited, and sporting Christmas day grins. Security guards straighten their tuxedos, vendors lay out their wares, and NBA Commissioner David Stern holds a press conference, setting out his wishes for the evening s events.

“No injuries, no fights, and please don’t let it be decided at the last minute on some referee s call that some people might find questionable – that s the commissioner’s trinity,” says Stern.

On the floor of the gym the dancers warm up. But when one of the male dancers springs into a back handspring his footing slips and he lands on his elbow, grotesquely dislocating it and causing him to be taken to the Med.

It’s the night’s first injury and hopefully it’s not an omen.

On one end of the court, Jake and Isaac Ford – brothers of Harold, Jr. – arrive early to scope out the crowd, on the other end City Council Chairman E.C. Jones beams and stares at the court like a proud papa.

“We worked so hard for this, I m so excited,” says Councilwoman Tajuan Stout Mitchell. “ She goes on to say that she heard that all of the hotel rooms downtown had been booked for the night. Maybe, just maybe – her statements seem to imply – this is all going to work.

As the Pyramid begins to fill, the excitement becomes intoxicating. A program vendor dances in his booth while selling programs, a huge group of Spaniards chant “Pau Gasol!, Pau Gasol!” before the venue is even half-filled. Families wait in line at the Corky’s Barbecue stand, a clown walks around the perimeter juggling basketballs, and everyone is handed a small American flag as they enter.

The crowd thunders as the team is announced and positively erupts over Shane Battier and Lorenzen Wright. Isaac Hayes delivers the sexiest “God Bless America” ever and Mr. Britney Spears garners hearty applause from even boy-band weary adults.

Finally, it’s time for the tip-off and the roar of the crowd is absolutely deafening. A few minutes later Michael Henderson scores the Memphis Grizzly’s first official basket – a three pointer from outside – and the the thrill of the moment reverberates all the way to the top point of the Pyramid.

Less than five minutes into the game, jersey vendors say they’ve already sold out of Wright and Battier jerseys, “But Jason Williams is selling good too.”

Despite all the fanfare, in between the fouls, jump shots, missed and made passes the crowd grows quiet. Only stunts like the “Smooch Cam” or a kiddie dance contest elicit much response. It’s as if Memphis isn’t quite sure how to act. A landed shot collects a respectable shout, but other moments stay awkwardly still.

By halftime the crowd has begun to warm up some – Memphis, it seems, is finding its rhythm. People begin to stand to cheer well-executed maneuvers, but only do so hesitantly. We’re shy, maybe. Maybe we’re just not sure how we should act.

Going into the last quarter it’s a two point game. Memphis might just pull this one off, seems to be the collective thought. Lots of people are standing now, jumping, fists pumping in the air, “Defense! Defense!” is the cheer of choice. All hopes are hanging – but by a rope, not a thread.

Then the clock winds further down.

With six minutes showing the Grizzlies are only down by three. Battier is on the bench, but Williams and Wright are in. The tension is hanging like fog – throughout the Pyramid teeth are gritting, everyone is braced – these are the moments that make sports worthwhile. This game can easily go either way and so Memphians start -leaving.

Picking up jackets and purses, they make their way out of the stands and down to the floor, waving goodbye to friends, walking past the ongoing game as they make their ways to the exits. Eager to get out and beat the traffic rush, it seems they‘ve already decided how this still-tight game will end.

About that time the momentum that the Grizzlies had been gaining just a sports minute earlier faded into squealing sneakers and the distant echo of a dribbling ball. Like Sampson’s haircut, just as we began to give up on our team, their energy and skills began to dwindle.

With about three minutes left many fans had already written the team off, though the Grizzlies only trailed by eight points.

“They tried, I’m not disappointed,” one fan says to another.

“Maybe next time,” the other replies.

But the game’s not over – far from it. Particularly in basketball, the Pistons’ lead is slim and certainly not a death sentence. But Williams has stopped taking shots. The life seems drained from the team. Unspectacular and lethargic our boys trot up and down the court – waiting for the last buzzer to sound so that they too may abandon this spectacle. With a final score of 90-80, the Pistons defeat the Grizzlies.

Here’s an NBA adage: Don’t worry about how you play the game. Worry about how you finish the game.

In a night of beginnings, the end of the game turned sour for the Memphis Grizzlies in a 90-80 loss to the Detroit Pistons.

More specifically, Pistons star Jerry Stackhouse and his 15 fourth-quarter points turned the home opener into a lost cause. Stackhouse would lead all scorers with 34 points in the game. The Pistons also received 24 points from forward Clifford Robinson.

The Grizzlies started strongly in their Memphis stand, leading at the half 36-43 and also leading by as much as twelve points during the game. The squad relied on a balanced effort by its starters as center Lorenzen Wright scored 17 points and pulled in 13 rebounds, forward Stromile Swift scored 16 points and pulled in 10 rebounds, guard Jason Williams scored 11 points and passed out seven assists, and as guard Michael Dickerson scored 15 points.

Swift’s game didn’t take off until the second half when he drew three straight fouls from Detroit center Ben Wallace, limiting Wallace’s production in the game. Wright worked the entire game though he started slow against Robinson’s defensive efforts. Dickerson struggled the entire night, looking unable to create his shot rather than to take advantage of catch and shoot situations. And not only was Williams more quiet that usual, he also gave up four critical turnovers in the last five minutes to allow Stackhouse to put his team up for good.

Most quiet was rookie forward Shane Battier who scored only seven points and pulled down seven rebounds. During the pre-season, Battier made up for his lack of productivity with stellar defensive efforts. This game ended with Battier registering no steals and no blocks.

“It was a choppy game,” Battier said of both teams’ performance. “There was no flow to the game. Neither team hit its shots.”

Head coach Sidney Lowe said after the game that ending the game poorly was not as distressing as letting the Pistons back in the game. “I’m more disappointed that we had a 12 point lead [and lost it],” Lowe said. “If we took care of business there, we wouldn’t have been in that position at the end of the game. We threw the ball away.”

The Grizzlies have little time to contemplate the loss as they travel to Minnesota for a game this evening, Friday, November 2nd. The team returns home on Sunday, November 2nd for a contest against the Dallas Mavericks at the Pyramid at 2 p.m.