No More Kings
So the Timberwolves' season got going last night and, as usual, I was unprepared for the surreal, multi-sensory assault that is live professional basketball. There were "dancers" in "sexy" Halloween costumes. There were sudden, terrifying bursts of ear-splitting pyro. There was a digitally simulated American flag waving in the pixelated breeze. There was an almost vaudevillian little sketch which ended with a putative Kings fan being chased around the floor by a by a hairy fat guy in skimpy drag (I was pulling for a pie in the face). So, lets see, we've got crass, powerfully un-arousing hyper-sexuality; spectacular simulated violence, plus enforced patriotism; and the always hilarious implied homophobia. Ah, sports.
Finally, the lucky spectator was treated the purple-clad, sparingly talented Sacramento Kings and their coach, the handsome Reggie Theus: former player, major beefcake and Saturday morning sitcom star (those exist). There was also a reasonably entertaining basketball game, which the Wolves won, 98-96. Despite the nice final result, the game had its ups and downs. Here are some of them.
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