Basketball lessons (yeah, Bama beat Kentucky)

I watched the University of Alabama defeat the University of Kentucky in men's basketball last night. in Tuscaloosa, Alabama, a feat not quite so rare as some would believe, but, rare enough.  The crowd was great, I saw a lot of old friends in my superstitional  half-time stroll around the concourse, and we beat the Wildcats again. I'm glad I cheered from the stands instead of the sofa.  Plus I got another free t-shirt and another plastic cup.  I can now serve a party of about 240.

I am a bit of a basketball geek.  It is a fairly benign means of escape.  And I have learned a lot of life's lessons through the years watching and playing the game.

There was a turning point in last night's game.  Alabama had trailed by eight to ten points.  Kentucky's big man was on his way to setting a record for blocked shots as Bama players aggressively attacked the lane.  As they approached the Kentucky giant they would finesse, go under and up, or attempt to stop and out jump the big guy.  He pounded enough spikes to build a railroad track half-way to Lexington.  But something important happened a little more than half-way home.

Andrew Steele, fifth year senior guard for the Tide, the old wise man of the squad, had the ball in the right corner, a few feet outside the lane.  He beat his man off the dribble and headed toward the lane.  There was no finesse, no dipsy doodle.  Just enough movement to avoid the charge, making the the defender move his feet and lose a little of his balance.  Steele, a strong physical player at about six feet two, subtly put his shoulder into the big man's sternum and jumped straight through him, his shot moving through the up stretched arms of the off balance mega-Wildcat like a football through an upright, then rolling over the rim into the basket. And one.

The momentum was shifted. The giant had been conquered. It was Alabama's game after that moment.

At least that's my opinion.

Sometimes that's what it takes.  You gotta take it straight to the heart of the giant. He'll always beat you if you give him his space.  Sometimes you gotta get so close he can't effectively swat you anymore.

But that is unnerving.  It is illogical. And, of course, with a giant, it seems a little dangerous. A little risky.

There is a time for dancing. A time for finesse.  A time for  the 3-bomb.  But if you don't deal with the giant in the middle  .   .   . you're going to lose.

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