Friday, June 10, 2005


My hometown team the Pistons just lost the first game of the NBA finals, and lost it badly, 84-69. (I was born in Detroit, grew up in the Detroit area, and spent the first 26 years of my life in southeast Michigan.)

I was sitting at the bar at the Independence Brew Pub, sipping a brew and watching the game. When the Pistons fell behind by 12 points with around 7 minutes to go, I knew it was over. They weren't playing well enough to close that big a deficit in in so little time. For some reason, in the second half, they just couldn't sink a basket to save their lives. I finished my IPA and headed back to my hotel room in disgust. There seemed to be a lot of San Antonio fans there.

Oh, well, there are still six games to go.

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