End of the fourth quarter. Twenty-six point four seconds on the clock. Heat up by three and Bulls are about to inbound the ball. Chicago has no more time-outs.
Robinson brought it up. Held my breath as Nate took his first three-point shot. Rims out. Booz got the rebound. Passed to Rip. To Noah. Back to Rip. RIp to Nate, who passed out to Butler. No one’s covering Butler! Clock winding down to 5, 4, 3… Shoy. Misses. Zero. Game over.
And so is the Bulls’ 2012-2013 Season. Sigh. Continue reading
Been holding off on writing about basketball with the hopes that my last line would be: “And the Bulls beat the Nets in the first round of the NBA Playoffs in five games!” Didn’t happen. “In Six Games!” So close… Bulls lost by three. Saturday is Game Seven. Hoping the exhausted Bulls can fuel up and get back in the game and close up this extremely well-played series!
Thought hard about why I wanted to wait for a win before I wrote it down. I guess as much as I plug the journey, the climb, the processes in life, I can’t help, like many of us, to notice the score. At the end of a game.
The Glen Cove Hospital puts together an employee team for an annual basketball game against the Grenville Baker Boys and Girls’ Club Staff. I don’t technically work for the hospital, but I get to jump in for a few minutes here and there as the “girl” on the team. This marks the tenth year, I believe, we’ve played each other and right now, the Hospital team has only won twice. One year, the Hospital beat the club with a buzzer beater shot from the half, pushing us just one point ahead.
The following year, after three over times, the Club came back to settle the score and beat the Docs and company. Two years ago, we (the medical peeps) got an on-court whoopin’! We came to play, but the Club showed up. And showed us they weren’t afraid to rock it out to keep their title.
And last year, it got brutal, but the Club took the win. In the final quarter, a scuffle for the ball under the basket lead to an elbow to the face of Marc Bilbry, the Associate Director of the club. There was blood. On the court. And Marc headed to the hospital for stitches. Of course the joke in the stands was, “Is there a doctor in the house?” Well, sure, but no one carries a doctor kit around anymore. I think. Continue reading
Tummies full of Ethiopian yummies, iPhone fully charged, Hubs and I head out of the restaurant Awash with one goal. Each. Hubs wants to get to Barclay’s early to watch the Bulls warm up. I want dessert.
Cuz what’s a birthday without cake. But I want something better. Rice pudding. But not just any rice pudding. The delicious, out of this world, original concoctions of Rice to Riches, the best (besides my mom’s) rice pudding on earth. Or at least in New York City.
It’s only 4:30PM and the game doesn’t start till 7:00PM so I feel like we have a lot to time to make a pit stop.
“I want to be at the stadium by 5:00PM.” Hubs has a schedule.
“Look! Rice to Riches is on the same train line. It’s perfect.” I’m thrilled. Hubs rolls his eyes. Continue reading
Trying to capture the swan in the Central Park pond.
Left Alice’s Tea Cup, tummy full of tea and sparkles in my hair. Off to Central park we go, to walk off pumpkin pancake calories and to share one spot in New York City we still get lost in. And for that reason, we actually walk down the west side of Central Park for some time, from 74th to 103rd, just chatting about life, kids, this and that. The sun is shining and my hand is tucked through Hub’s arm, in his sweatshirt pocket. Love this time we can just stroll arm in arm without a care in the world. No where to rush to. No one to answer to.
Until nature calls. All that tea… It was inevitable. So we venture into the park in search of a public bathroom. The closest one is behind the tennis courts and as Hubs heads toward the men’s room, he says, “Five minutes. You have five minutes to write your next blog.” Continue reading
Basketball Battles are on the upswing now that more and more games are being nationally televised. While some run red lights to catch the opening minutes of Downtown Abby, those of us without the DVR feature on their cable box, that is, the Paulus crew rushes home to take the stands. Court-side couch seats never felt so cozy.
Best part, none of our Knicks fan neighbors can throw tomatoes or dirty looks at us when the Bulls hit a buzzer beater three and we’re doing a Benny the Bull jiggy on our living room dance floor.
Creeeeek! [That’s the sound of brakes on my fingertaps.] It’s 9:09! There’s something I’m forgetting. FLU Shot appointment at 9:00 AM. That was nine minutes ago! Siri!! Why you gotta play me like that? Ring! Beep! Something!
Tell me, “Stop typing, Hot Mama, because it will take you exactly three minutes and twenty-two seconds to drive to your doctor’s office. Then leave an extra forty-seven seconds to park and walk in the door and sign in. Yes. You will be late.”
That’s it Siri. I’m getting a watch!
For the record, Siri and I made up. The deed is done. Strange thing is, my other arm hurts. Go figure. Continue reading
THINK Sticky Note!
“You’re on the edge…of glory” played as we walked out of Aunt Chilada’s on Hilton Head Island, South Carolina. Having just watched the Bulls lose to the Sixers by one point. Marking the end of their 2011-2012 season, the year Chicago was predicted by so many to fight Miami for the Eastern Conference Championship. And some went so far as to call them the future NBA champs of this season marked with more injuries than I can ever recall in any given period. Continue reading
Married or not, if you’re an Asian living in New York, you know you have a crush on our boy Jeremy Lin. I mean come on, when’s the last time you saw the definition of arms like that on an Asian man. Every Asian guy out there is doing push-ups right now, now that they know they have competition. Continue reading
