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Friday, June 24, 2005
Sayson: The errant prophet speaketh: So I goofed. So what
By Homer Sayson
Second Overtime
CHICAGO – Wide as Mt. Pinatubo’s rim, my big mouth exploded on the day of Game 6, flooding these pages with hot lava of praise for the San Antonio Spurs and declared Tim Duncan and company as the 2005 NBA champions.
Foolishly ignoring the fact that there was still at least 48 minutes of basketball left to be played, I ended up getting burned by the fire of my own words.
The never-say-die Pistons pulled a stunning 95-86 upset the other day at the SBC Center. It tied the best of seven series at 3-all and sent these NBA Finals to a seventh game for the first time since 1994, when Rockets pivot Hakeem “The Dream” Olajuwon became a 7-foot sized nightmare for the Knicks.
Justifiably so, a lot of my readers let me have it. And this is the part where I take my licks like a man:
From Jet Pogi (jetgeared@yahoo.com): “Have you heard the Fat Lady Sing?!! Boooo Yeaaahhhh!!! As the saying goes ‘It ain’t over ‘til it’s over’.” Sorry guys, the Bad Boys are back!!!”
From Patrick Cheng (patrickcheng@ hotmail.com): “You said there will be no Game 7. Well, there is. The Pistons will win the championship, so don’t underestimate them.” And from Romulus R. Torres (romst@pacific.net.ph): “I guess your prediction never came true, after all. The Pistons showed the heart of a champion. I believe in miracles.”
Of course, there were a gazillion other e-mails, many of which I chose not to print because it lacked the decorum and civilized language that Jet, Patrick and Romulus had so admirably manifested, even though they also vehemently disagreed with the sentiments of my Spurs tainted heart.
But allow me to remind a lot of idiots out there that the dictionary defines the word “prediction” as “an act of reasoning about a future event” and “an estimate of how something will develop.”
I am an opinion maker, not Nostradamus.
As a columnist, one of my many tasks is to provide you, my dear readers, an informed knowledge on how a sports events will transpire, weighing the pros and cons based on stats, history, trends, etc. Naturally, I lay my picks every now and then. And when they hit the mark, it’s merely icing on the cake.
I chose San Antonio to win Game 6 because of Tim Duncan’s low post play, Manu Ginobili’s limitless brilliance, plus the fact that the Pistons haven’t won in Texas in eight years, a skid that marks the futility of 10 games.
Therefore, if Duncan cannot make free throws when they matter most, it’s not on me. If Ginobili falters and shoots an air ball and makes two turnovers in the final two minutes of play, don’t blame me. If the Pistons beat impossible odds, don’t holler at me. You can do better by spreading the gospel of Detroit’s indomitable will and the glory of their resiliency.
This column prides itself as having an army of intelligent followers. They are smart readers who can agree to disagree agreeably, an educated bunch of beer-chugging guys who understand that they don’t have to be strident to be heard because sometimes, a whisper is louder than a scream.
But as I gazed at my thick e-mails yesterday, I was a little heartbroken. Judging from their foul language and impaired reasoning, some of my readers are as stupid as they come. And even more horrifying was knowing that a handful of them are clinging precariously on the bottom end of the IQ stick.
CUT SHORT. My column yesterday, which conducted a thorough autopsy on the Spurs’ Game 6 demise, was butchered. Through no one’s fault, the draft instead of the final copy, was the one which got printed.
Needless to say, my article (“Rasheed Wallace rises from the ashes of Game 5”) was not just eerily short, it lacked complete sense and was devoid of a punchline. Obviously, many of you were left hanging and perhaps asking, duh?
As I apologize for the inconvenience, allow me to run important parts of that piece: “Spurs coach Gregg Popovich tried to explain his team’s choke job, ‘We were too quick with everything we did, not waiting for the game to come us.’”
“Yes, indeed, while the Spurs needed to push the ball last night, they pushed it too hard and with too little caution. Too much haste makes a lot of waste, and when you force something out of nothing, it often ends up with 12 turnovers.
“Tim Duncan had 21 points and 15 rebounds, but he shot just 14 field goals, which doesn’t bode well for a team that relies so much on his low-post presence to open up the perimeter. In contrast, Tony Parker had 15 field goals for 15 points, while Manu shot 17 field goals for 21 points. That has to change.
“For the Spurs to avoid a Game 7 disaster, they must reestablish Duncan in the paint. And since they now have an astounding total of 97 turnovers in six games, the Spurs should really wipe off that butter in their fingers.
“With the series now tied, I guess I have some explaining to do. But first, will somebody remove the duct tape on my mouth, please?”
(homsay@hotmail.com)
(June 24, 2005 issue)
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