Happy Birthday Mom!
And because it is Monday, your featured Map (states that support the Spurs v. states that support the Heat):
As you can see, this morning, slightly over half the states, and probably a much larger than 50% portion of the basketball watching country woke up knowing they backed the wrong team.
Go Spurs Go!
Walter, Davis, and I won't take complete credit for the Spurs win last night or for the series, but we did our part.
Starting with hand-made, silk-screened fan gear (thanks Davis!):
We were also disciplined and dutiful. We followed out game day rituals, eating the right foods and getting the right attitudes on.
Game time was even more crucial. Walter watched alone, so he could bring his laser focus to bear at critical moments.
The other five of us (me, Davis, Teddy, Willie, and Lyndon) became role players channeling whoever was on the floor at the time. Teddy makes an incredible Patty Mills, and her encouragement on his three-point shooting last night almost required umbrellas all around to protect us from the shots that were raining down. And if you think that Manu Ginobili could have racked that monster dunk to ignite the Spurs recovery without channeling Willie's inner fierceness, you may be mistaken. Lyndon was best at BoBo Diaw, always on the move and helping everyone out.
Davis and I did bench squats during time outs and commercial breaks just to demonstrate our mind was right (did you notice the bad start? Davis was distracted by his cell phone and some lively texting exchanges and did not do the requisite exercises. I know Pop was relieved when Davis remembered his role on the team and got caught up on his squats.)
Walter wouldn't let us join him upstairs until things were completely in hand. We tried with three minutes remaining, but he made us wait a couple of possessions more, JUST TO BE SAFE. In the end, we all howled together, except for Lyndon who, like Kawhi Leonard, may not have learned how to celebrate yet. He's young. He'll figure it out.
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