We’re at that time of the summer when the players are scattered to their various hometowns, the president’s ready to do his stuff in Africa, the general manager’s getting a well-earned break, the coach is catching his breath, the Summer League’s over – finally – and, yep.
Time to shut ‘er down.
I don’t think there really are any legitimate questions about the team as it percolates before training camp and what shocks me – well, a little bit – is this need to know things with any level of certainty right now.
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Find other pursuits, figure out who the Blue Jays might trade, wonder if the TFCs can repeat, try to guess the names of three Argos. Sit on a deck. Work on your golf game. Clean the garage. Do nothing. It’s that time of year.
No, they have no idea who’ll start – it could be Valanciunas and Ibaka in the front court with Powell and DeRozan on the wings; it could be Ibaka and Siakam as bigs with Miles and DeRozan on the wings.
Does it make sense to bring Valanciunas off the bench? To a certain degree it absolutely does and that wouldn’t surprise me in the least.
Could they play DeRozan as a primary ball handler with Powell and Miles and, say, Ibaka and Poeltl or Siakam in some weird small but big lineup? I’d love to see that for a few minutes in the pre-season just to see how it works.
How about Lowry, DeRozan, Powell, Miles and Ibaka all on the court at the same time? That’d be cool for a few minutes every now and then, I bet.
So, you see, there are all kinds of things on the table and training camp and the start of the season might be fun. But for now they’re all in the abstract and it’s time for everyone to step back, catch their breath and re-group for the grind that’s coming.
A fine Irregular sends this along and I’d totally forgotten about it.
Stop by firstname.lastname@example.org if you don’t mind and ask away.
There are no dumb questions, only dumb answers.
You’ll be glad you played along.
And, no, it’s not enough to make me watch; I was able to resist Ben Johnson vs. a horse, I can imagine my life will be okay without seeing Phelps and a shark.
At least once a season until I started writing down the parking level and spot on my ticket every single time I go away on a road trip and leave my car at the airport, I could be found wandering the Pearson parking structure – especially the terrifyingly confusing Terminal 3 mess – clicking the panic button on my key fob to find out where I’d left the vehicle.
So I can almost understand this kid’s plight when he came out of the Metallica concert the other night with no clue where he’d left his car.
Maybe it’s a bit over the top but, yeah, I can totally see it happening. And it’s a hilarious story.