The Cadence of Silk When I lived in Seattle, I loved watching the Sonics play basketball; something about that array of trained and energetic bodies set in motion to attack a more sluggish, less physically intelligent opponent appealed to me, taught me about cadence and play, the offguard breaking free before the rebound, "releasing," as is said in the parlance of the game, getting to the center's downcourt pass and streaking to the basket for a scoopshot layup off the glass, all in rhythm, all in perfect declensions of actions, smooth and strenuous as Gorgiasian rhetoric. I was hooked on the undulant ballet of the pattern offense, on the set play back-door under the basket, and, at times, even on the auctioneer's pace and elocution of the play-by-play man. Now I watch the Lakers, having returned to Los Angeles some years ago, love them even more than the Seattle team, long since broken up and aging. The Lakers are incomparable, numerous options for any situation, their players the league's quickest, most intelligent, and, it is my opinion, frankly, the most cool. Few bruisers, they are sleek as arctic seals, especially the small forward as he dodges through the key, away from the ball, rubbing off his man on the screen, setting for his shot. Then, slick as spit, comes the ball from the point guard, and my man goes up, cradling the ball in his right hand like a waiter balancing a tray piled with champagne in stemmed glasses, cocking his arm and bringing the ball back behind his ear, pumping, letting fly then as he jumps, popcorn-like, in the corner, while the ball, launched, slung dexterously with a slight backspin, slashes through the basket's silk net with a small, sonorous splash of completion. Garret Hongo 1988 这首？ -- ╭─────────────────────────╮ │"To spell out the obvious is often to call it in │ │question." -- Eric Hoffer │ ╰────────────◇ http://distract.org/ ◇╯ --

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