RECAP: Usually when it comes to Saint John’s I’m hard to surprise – mostly because always I expect the worst and usually they deliver. But today I am: Saint John’s beat Xavier 78-70 in Cincinnati Saturday afternoon. Consider: Saint John’s was on the road where they play poorly and out of state where they’re atrocious; Chris Obekpa was hurting; Rysheed Jordan got in early foul trouble; D’Angelo Harrison went down late in the first half after looking to have seriously injured his calf; and Steve Lavin was coaching. None of that is a recipe for success and most of it a recipe for disaster. And yet they managed to pull it off and in doing so absorbed a few punches along the way: Xavier went out to an early 10 point lead and SJU responded, outscoring them by 20 over the next 16 minutes; Xavier started the second half on a 9-2 run to tie the game and SJU went on an 8-0 run of their own; and Xavier overcame a 10 point deficit late to pull within three and SJU put them away. In each case Saint John’s made plays when it counted. Thank goodness for seniors … Once again SJU shot well: 50 percent from the floor, 35 from three and 80 from the line. Some of that is fool’s gold, as they continue to take bad shots – especially Pointer and Greene – that continue to go in despite the laws of physics and thermodynamics. Because of which I assume they’ll come back to earth eventually, so enjoy it while it lasts. As for Xavier, they’re two teams. The one with Matt Stainbrook is not awful. The one without him stinks. Despite the importance of the game – and no matter how SJU finishes the season this loss is going to look awful on Xavier’s tournament resume – they came out with zero energy and got worse as the game wore on. Even the crowd was lame; they might as well have played at Carnesecca. Xavier shot poorly and turned the ball over and basically stunk. If I were charitable – and we know I’m not – I might blame the early start, or maybe they’re still upset about that whole Porkopolis thing. Whatever. Suck it Musketeers … Lavin once again appeared to be wearing make-up, although today it looked like it might be some sort of spray-on tan. Perhaps he’s auditioning to take Monasch’s place? Who knows. Anyway, he did a good job of stealing minutes here and there with the bench and called some dubious time outs and clapped his hands a bunch. That is, business as usual about which the less said the better … SJU has now won 4 of their last 5 and is suddenly .500 in conference, albeit still in seventh place. Assuming a split with Georgetown, a loss to Villanova and one bad and inexplicable loss to some seeming pasty, 9 and 9 seems likely. That would put them in about 5th place and firmly on the bubble going into the BE tournament. If they keep playing the way they have they probably deserve a bid – what? – and will be a team no one’s going to want to play in the first round. Glass slipper anyone?
PLAYERS: Dom Pointer was once again a wrecking ball: 24 points on 9 of 10 from the floor and 6 for 6 from the line, 5 rebounds, 4 steals and 2 blocks. It’s only a shame the lightbulb didn’t go on sooner … Harrison had 18 points, 13 of those in the first half. He scored only one field goal after injuring his calf – fortunately it was the other one – late in the first half. My notes regarding which say: “and there goes the season.” He limped off at halftime and was limping in the second half warm ups, but despite being graded as questionable played the entire 20 minutes. On a team where players miss games because of sore throats, sprained ankles and paper cuts that sort of heart is refreshing to see … Jordan was mostly missing in action, but he had a huge three late after Xavier had pulled to within three. Threw an absurd lob to Pointer on a breakaway late but like everything else today it worked out pretty well … Jordan was spelled in the first half by Jamal Branch, who had 11 points on 5 for 7 shooting, this after scoring 2 points over his last four games. Despite which, he did not play barely at all in the second … Obekpa had zero points but the game changed in the first half when he entered at the 16 minute mark: Xavier, which had been scoring at will on the inside for the first 4 minutes, suddenly became tentative around the basket. Provided an amusing moment in the second half when after Pointer made some dopey play he pointed at his head. At first I thought Obekpa was reminding Pointer where the best place to throw an elbow was but then it occurred to me that he was telling Pointer to think … After Phil Greene fouled Xavier’s JP Macura in the first half Macura gave Greene the sort of run of the mill pat on the ass that passes for sportsmanship on the basketball court. Greene spun around and got in Macura’s face: “Don’t touch my ass” he said. By his reaction you would have thought Macura tried to slip a fist in there. Doth the lady protest too much? Greene had 15 points on 14 shots – many of those ill-advised and out of control, especially late, when he sometimes gets it into his head that he’s the team’s star, as opposed its weak link – including 3 of 8 from three, to go along with no rebounds, no blocks, no steals, and 1 assist … I’ve figured out what Amir Amirovich reminds me of: a Russian Olympic wrestler, except less grabby …. Balamou started the game but did not play much in the second. Which is just as well. Hopefully he takes some assertiveness training over the summer, because I’ve known more aggressive geishas… I don’t find much occasion for mirth when reading the various SJU fan forums, because let’s face it most of you people wouldn’t recognize a joke if Bill Burr recorded a comedy special in your small intestine. But I nearly did a spit take this morning when some astute Saint John’s fan recommended that Joey De La Rosa start, because “he matches up favorably well with Matt Stainbrook.” Update for that poster: Joey DeLa Rosa doesn’t match up favorably with a stanchion. He makes Tom Bayne look like Mikhail Baryshnikov. JDLR played a minute at the beginning of the second half, during which time he committed two fouls and turned the ball over after which he went to the bench, never to return.
NOTES: I cannot comment too much on the broadcast, except to say that Bob Wenzel started talking at 12:15 and did not shut up until I muted the television at around 1:30. The most insightful thing he said during that time was “Yikes.” I have in the past catalogued Wenzel’s myriad shortcomings at length and will not do so again except to remind you that the only thing he knows less about than broadcasting is basketball: as a coach he had only 6 winning seasons out of 15 and won 20 games only once; he was 73 and 95 over his 6 years at Rutgers and a dismal 20-34 in the Big East. Shut up Bob … Yesterday was Friday the thirteenth and today Valentine’s Day, a perfect confluence for those of you unlucky in love. The origins of superstitions relating to the number 13 are obscure – some postulate that it’s because there were 13 apostles at the last supper, Judas Iscariot being the odd man; others that is due to the mass execution of a slew of Knights Templar by King Phillip on that day in the 12th century; and others still others because it’s one more than 12, which is a regarded as the perfect number: 12 months in a year, 12 hours in a day, 12 apostles, 12 tribes of Israel, 12 signs of the Zodiac, 12 in a dozen and so on. Friday is of course unlucky because it was on that day of the week that the Baby Jesus was crucified. Together they are the perfect storm. There’s no evidence that Friday the 13th is anymore worse than any other day and none of this seems very scientific anyway: in Spain Friday the 17th is considered unlucky and in Greece Tuesdays and let’s face it most days don’t work out well for most people most of the time anyway. The best practice seems to be my own: expect the worst at all times, that way at least you’ll never be disappointed … Valentine’s day is named for Valentinus, a Christian decapitated by the second Emperor Claudius in the third century on February 14th. This explains why head is the traditional Valentine’s Day gift. How a 2000 year old decapitation came to be associated with modern day romance is anyone’s guess, but associated it is: traditionally February Fourteenth features the exchange of gifts between lovers, traditionally flowers, which makes a perverse sort of sense, as flowers, themselves severed vegetative sexual organs, are delivered to females by males castrated by capitalist convention. My own Valentine’s tradition is to give the old lady a break by making my own sandwiches. Through the years Valentine’s Day has come to be associated with the Roman God Cupid – Eros in Greek mythology – the son of goddess of love Venus (the Greek Aphrodite) and god of war Mars (the Greek Ares). Quite logically those two genetic strains combine in Cupid’s special power: he owns a bow by which he inflicts lust upon the recipient of his arrows. You don’t have to be Fellini to figure out the symbolism there. In the original version Cupid was a grown ass god married to a mortal broad called Psyche. After a bit of tomfoolery that need not concern us here Psyche finds herself wandering the country side where she’s discovered by the half horse Pan, who betrays Psyche to her evil mother in law Venus, who never approved of the marriage in the first place. To have her revenge Venus first locked Psyche away in a dungeon and then sent her off on a series of quests, the last of which found her in Hell, where in an odd twist she found redemption instead of everlasting torment; afterwards she is returned to earth, made immortal, and reunited with Cupid. Despite all this grown up adventure Cupid somehow through the ages came to be portrayed as a fat baby in a diaper, who in the middle ages was often portrayed by artists astride a dolphin. Scholars suggest that the dolphin has to do with his mother’s origins – she is said to have spontaneously generated out of the sea – but you can’t fool me: it’s just a giant penis, which also makes a perverse sort of sense, as Cupid is sort of a dick. Apropos of which, this, by Stephen Crane
In the desert I saw a creature,
naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, “Is it good, friend?”
“It is bitter – bitter,” he answered;
“But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart.