Bucks v Philly: A Good Hair Day
I don't think its a coincedence: the game after Andrew Bogut finally shaves that horrible thing off his face (that some people might have politely called a "beard") the Bucks run onto the court and very decidedly kill the Philadelphia 76ers.
What with all the snow, my husband, who doesn't like to deal with snow day drivers, declined attendance, so instead of paying the sitter to come over, we decided to treat the sitter, and Talia and I had a lovely girls' night out at the Bradley Center, trying to decide what was it about the Energee Girls this year we didn't like (we've decided that they've just gotten too slutty this year), what was it about Ersan Ilyasova we did like (the resemblance of his name to Illya Kuryakin, which immediately registers "International Man of Cuteness") and what was it about Philly's Kyle Korver that was driving us up the wall. Talia figured it out almost instantly: every minute he was fixing his hair.
Actually, when you look at the box score, it was even more often than that. We counted: Korver fixed his hair 24 times, and according to the Milwaukee Journal's box score this morning, he was only on the court for 22 minutes. He scored 4 field goals, so Princess Kutcher's points-to-hair-fixing ratio was 3 to 1. Our counting was semi-scientific: we did not count timeouts or when he was on the bench. We may have, however, missed a few times when we went out to procure a bag of the Bradley Center's most accurately named game snack, Heavenly Roasted Nuts.
We were late. I was running around in the snow (that hadn't arrived yet, it was the freaking Rapture if you were listening to the weathermen) so we missed the anthem, and the first couple of minutes, and the Bucks were down by some ten points when we kicked some people out of our seats only to learn they had better seats and we could have looked at their tickets and said, "Oh, you're right, we must be in that one section over right behind the bench!" But we're honest folks, and sent them on their way to their $100-more-a-pop seats.
The clean-shaven Bogut didn't do a whole lot tonight except let his 'Lectric Shave face be a beacon of 3-pointer goodness, as Mo Williams finally found his shot again, and he and Michael Redd, who is back, people had a good ol time seemingly playing horse with each other. Another asset to this game: the goateed Brian Skinner (now there's some well-placed facial hair, it works on Skinner) showing the Bucks how defense should be.
Anyway, as Talia is a vegetarian (aren't all hip babysitters?), our tickets, now good for a Quarter Pounder With cheese, weren't much value to her, except for our ritual cheers of "Royale With Cheese" as we left the stadium.
I'd blogged earlier about some, honestly, best laid plans. The snow (or more accurately, the apolocalyptic predictions of snow) ruined them. Dr. Chow or Mr. Plow? Mr. Plow won. Snooky canceled their gig. I suppose that Floor Model went through with theirs at Circle A. We need a way to find out what bands cancel their gigs on nights like this. Can you see the crawl on Fox News 6: "Butthole Surfers concert -- cancelled!"
But overall, this blizzard really turned out to be only a somewhat daunting snowstorm. The 20 inches we were supposed to get turned out to be, what, 8-10 inches. What, did we not all grow up with this every year? We're in the midwest, people, and in the winter, I know this is hard to believe, but sometimes it snows during the winter.
Brian and I laughed about this all day, about how all the weather guys seem to really look forward to this, like finally, they're going to be the lead story, and they're having the world's biggest stiffie over it. Watch them the next time they get to "predict" a giant weather disaster: they can hardly contain their excitement that they get to use all their special weather gear, and circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of ..... oh, different monologue here. Sorry. Got carried away, but heck, I'm way down at the bottom of the list of people who got carried away over this snowstorm. Hey (warning, snarky commentary about the sad state of TV "journalism" coming up), at least that relieved the news staff of doing their job, coming up with some pseudo newsertainment to fill a half hour.
What with all the snow, my husband, who doesn't like to deal with snow day drivers, declined attendance, so instead of paying the sitter to come over, we decided to treat the sitter, and Talia and I had a lovely girls' night out at the Bradley Center, trying to decide what was it about the Energee Girls this year we didn't like (we've decided that they've just gotten too slutty this year), what was it about Ersan Ilyasova we did like (the resemblance of his name to Illya Kuryakin, which immediately registers "International Man of Cuteness") and what was it about Philly's Kyle Korver that was driving us up the wall. Talia figured it out almost instantly: every minute he was fixing his hair.
Actually, when you look at the box score, it was even more often than that. We counted: Korver fixed his hair 24 times, and according to the Milwaukee Journal's box score this morning, he was only on the court for 22 minutes. He scored 4 field goals, so Princess Kutcher's points-to-hair-fixing ratio was 3 to 1. Our counting was semi-scientific: we did not count timeouts or when he was on the bench. We may have, however, missed a few times when we went out to procure a bag of the Bradley Center's most accurately named game snack, Heavenly Roasted Nuts.
We were late. I was running around in the snow (that hadn't arrived yet, it was the freaking Rapture if you were listening to the weathermen) so we missed the anthem, and the first couple of minutes, and the Bucks were down by some ten points when we kicked some people out of our seats only to learn they had better seats and we could have looked at their tickets and said, "Oh, you're right, we must be in that one section over right behind the bench!" But we're honest folks, and sent them on their way to their $100-more-a-pop seats.
The clean-shaven Bogut didn't do a whole lot tonight except let his 'Lectric Shave face be a beacon of 3-pointer goodness, as Mo Williams finally found his shot again, and he and Michael Redd, who is back, people had a good ol time seemingly playing horse with each other. Another asset to this game: the goateed Brian Skinner (now there's some well-placed facial hair, it works on Skinner) showing the Bucks how defense should be.
Anyway, as Talia is a vegetarian (aren't all hip babysitters?), our tickets, now good for a Quarter Pounder With cheese, weren't much value to her, except for our ritual cheers of "Royale With Cheese" as we left the stadium.
I'd blogged earlier about some, honestly, best laid plans. The snow (or more accurately, the apolocalyptic predictions of snow) ruined them. Dr. Chow or Mr. Plow? Mr. Plow won. Snooky canceled their gig. I suppose that Floor Model went through with theirs at Circle A. We need a way to find out what bands cancel their gigs on nights like this. Can you see the crawl on Fox News 6: "Butthole Surfers concert -- cancelled!"
But overall, this blizzard really turned out to be only a somewhat daunting snowstorm. The 20 inches we were supposed to get turned out to be, what, 8-10 inches. What, did we not all grow up with this every year? We're in the midwest, people, and in the winter, I know this is hard to believe, but sometimes it snows during the winter.
Brian and I laughed about this all day, about how all the weather guys seem to really look forward to this, like finally, they're going to be the lead story, and they're having the world's biggest stiffie over it. Watch them the next time they get to "predict" a giant weather disaster: they can hardly contain their excitement that they get to use all their special weather gear, and circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of ..... oh, different monologue here. Sorry. Got carried away, but heck, I'm way down at the bottom of the list of people who got carried away over this snowstorm. Hey (warning, snarky commentary about the sad state of TV "journalism" coming up), at least that relieved the news staff of doing their job, coming up with some pseudo newsertainment to fill a half hour.
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