Celtics, Heat and the Refs

It's time to take a break, my eyes, my neck, peanut butter gone from the spoon.  Too much computer.  Splash water in my eyes.  I grab a shirt, thinking cup of coffee at the Montana Galley.  I'll say hi to Helena, the owner.  She's the blond.

The stairs to the sidewalk, and  two blocks up the boulevard.

I'm there.  A man is leaving, wearing a Celtics Jersey.  I hold the door.

"Well," I say.  "You're a little ways from home."

He blinks, and touches his chest.

"You're trading icy cold winters for earthquakes, I guess,"  I say.
 
"That's true," he says with a wave.  "I've been out here about six months, but I'm still a Celtic fan."

"Not a Lakers fan yet?"

He turns around.  "Not yet.  Still Celtics.  Can you believe the games against the Heat?"

"I write a Sports Blog, and all I'm hearing is about the refereeing."
 
He walks back.  "Disgraceful.  A blind man could see the Heat is getting all the calls.   They should give the game ball to the referees."  He looks at me.
 
"Yeah, I watched.  LeBron seemed to be at the free throw line a lot."

"A lot?"  His face a tint of pink.  "If LeBron misses a lay-up, he must have been fouled.  He's LeBron James."  The man looks out at the fast moving traffic.

"I've watched a ton of basketball," I say.  "And you're right, there is a difference between the way referees approach regular season games and playoff games.  They usually call less fouls.  They let them play it out."

"Rondo shoves a guy.  That's might be a legit T, but the rest?  Give me a break.  Their calls totally change  the momentum of the game."

"So, you think it's rigged?" I say.
 
"Of course it is."  His face is dark pink, eyes growing dark.  "You saw the games."

"But doesn't LeBron attacks the basket.  He'll always draw more fouls. The Celtics are more jump shooters.  So, they get less fouls.  I've written about the Celtics.  I'm on Twitter.  They say that the Celtics are past their prime.  They're not quick anymore.  So they have to fouls the quicker Heat."

"I've heard it before," he says.  "Quit whining about the refs. But come on.  I don't like the power Stern has over what goes on.  Third game, after all this will be okay, everybody will be watching the refs.  But LeBron will get his ring.  The refs'll make sure of that."

His eyes are steel ball bearings.  His breath is heavy.

"There is a lot left up to interpretation," I say.

He touches my arm.  "Hey, I'm sorry.  I'm getting a little worked up, but...they never call traveling anymore.   Stick a fork in you, the Celtics are done."

He rubs his forehead.

"Let me say this, I'm sorry to keep you...but... I think the NBA is fixed because it's in decline. It's not basketball anymore. Its marketing for team owners.

"They stopped Chris Paul going to the Lakers, but LeBron?  He can go where he wants."  He waves his hands in the air.  "I'll see you...I'm sorry...And what about the lottery."  He turns back.  "Why  don't they show the lottery balls anymore?  It's all done behind a curtain?"

"But," he says, looking down at his Celtic Jersey again.  "I guess I'm a die hard.  It just look like the refs are wearing Heat Jerseys, and there's nothing you can do about it but watch." 

He turns and walks up the boulevard.  I watch him as I enter.

A cry-baby Celtic Fan?  Phony outrage?  The coffee arrives.  I look at my reflection as I stir.  I watched the games.
 
You know, I think he's right.  Of all the major sports, Basketball leaves so much to the refs.  One T can change momentum.  As can a charge or a foul.  I'm not blind.  I watched the games.  
.............................

Help comes from:
Bleacherreport.com/articles/1199690-heat-vs-celtics
News.bostonherald.com/sports/basketball,
Google/Images,  readabilityformulas.com

IS COMPETITIVE EATING A SPORT?

I arrive at 11:45.  The weigh-in is at noon.

I sit in a booth back by the kitchen at the Montana Galley. There are only a few seats available.  I watch two men, wedged into a small booth, breathing heavily, arm wrestle.

"Yes, yes, yes,...yes.  Gotcha."  says the winner. They both smile. "Well, it's about time."  They squeeze out and walk up toward the microphone in the front reception area. 

TV trucks park on the street in front.  The place is full, with people standing out on the sidewalk.

I sit with Helena, the owner, who picks at my breakfast,  A Peyton Manning Special: A waffle sandwich of peanut butter, jelly, and chunks of lobster.

"I can't sell enough of these." says Montana.

"Food is good," I say. "But it's you that keeps 'em coming back."

She looks at me, her finger twisting her blond hair. "Pishaw," and slaps my shoulder.

"It's true."

"That the reason you came in?"  She looks up at me.

"Business, my dear.  Big crowd. TV cameras. Pro-Eaters going on diets?  Gotta be a story here.  The Valley Post Picayune loves stuff like this."

She glances at her watch. "It should be starting right away.  We got the scale up front."

She took a deep breath. "Coke prices just went up. They had to change the recipe so they won't need a warning label. Some kind of chemical in the caramel causes cancer.  Who knew?"

She smiles. "So this weigh-in is perfect to drum up business."

"You're so smart."  I say.

Someone calls "Helena, " from the other side of the room.

 "Let's do something later,"  she says. But before I can say that she might not be the only blond in my life, she punches my arm and is off.  Customer satisfaction.

"Hey, Belair," says another lady,

"Abilene. Wow," I say.  She slides into the booth, and hugs me.

"Thanks for that tip on Jose Canseco. That was good.  I need to repay you somehow."

Short brown hair, low cut blouse, sparkly eyes.

"I'll have to think of something." I say. 

"We'll have to get together, but I got to do this."  She moves out of the booth. 

"I got maybe five minutes before we go live. You gotta call me more often."

A group of young men in the next booth, closely watch her move in and out of the booth.  All smiles.

 She smiles back, and is off to the cameras.

Helena is back. "Will I have to warn everyone now that Coke causes cancer?  What next?"  She looks at me.  "Abilene, you seem to know her?"

"Shhush," I say.  "It's starting."  I nod toward the front.

"Four...Three...Two..." The cameraman points, and waves.

"Abilene Austin, here at the Montana Galley.  It's time for the weigh in."

Three very over weight men stand next to her. Two have clutched hands and are working their thumbs.  "Yes, yes, yes...yes, I win," says the winner. "Gotcha again."

"Gentlemen, what brought all this on. Pro-Eaters getting weighed before going on diets?  We'll start with you Will." 

He moves up to the microphone.  "I'm  Will 'The Champ' Millender. I'm from Brooklyn.  I'm the  current New York Stinky Cheese Eating Champion; I've been on Discovery Channel, MTV, and National Geographic.  We decided to go on diets.  We really had no choice, so were officially weighing in.  For me it was doctor's orders."

He steps onto the scale.  446 lbs.

"I'm Joel 'The Cannon' Podelsky,  from Laurence Harbor, NJ.  I'm the current National Bun & Cheese Eating Champion.  Maybe you saw me on “America’s Got Talent.”

He steps on the scale.  271 lbs.

"And I'm Mike “The 'Sisco Kid' Sisco. I'm from Brooklyn.  I'm very competitive, that's the reason I'm here. There's a coupla records I'd like to break this year.   The SPAM record, 6 pounds in 12 seconds,  Four - 32 ounce bowls of mayonnaise in 8 minutes, and the record for cow brains, 17.7 pounds in 15 minutes.  And of course Kobayashi's unofficial record of 69 hotdogs and buns in ten minutes."

He steps on the scale. 268 lbs.

"We're not crazy," says The Champ.  "We have to lose some weight.  So, this is great.  Thousand dollars, winner take all.  Any kind of a challenge, I'm up for it. Even something like this."

"Professional Eating." says Abilene. "Let me ask you, do you think this is a sport?"

"Got to be more exciting than Darts," says The Sisco Kid. "Or Ribbon Dancing or Curling, that was in the Olympics.  And being interviewed by such a gorgeous sports announcer, well, isn't that the definition of a sport?"

"Problem here obviously," says The Cannon.  "Is that our fans want us to eat spaghetti and meatballs, pizzas, hot dogs, not Caesar salads.  So this is not going to be easy."

"Training must be difficult, I would think." says Abilene.  "How do you train?  You're Pro Eaters.  Do you just eat a lot?"

"Pretty much," says The Sisco Kid.  "I usually go into a restaurant and ask for 5 pounds of beef, and start there.  But, now, staying in shape, and dieting at the same time?  This is going to be a real challenge.

"What's up next on your agenda?"

"The 2012 London Bridge Resort Lake Havasu National Spring Break Eating Championship   The winner of this event will establish a NEW National Cheese Fries Eating Record."

The Champ looks at The Sisco Kid, and The Cannon. "It's lunch time and I'm hungry. Who's up for some chicken wings?  Get this weigh-in off to a good start?"

"I'm game,"  says The Sisco Kid.

"But," says The Cannon.  "We're supposed to loose weight...but...it is lunch time?"

"Chicken?" asks The Champ. He looks into the crowd.  "Where's a chicken place.  I don't think they'll have enough here."

"Zankou Chicken, in Toluca Lake."  People point. "Just east of here."

The three rush out.

"I did 230 in ten minutes..."

"That's nothing..."

"Loser pays..."

And they are gone.

"Well," says Abilene.  "Official record is 68 hotdogs with buns in ten minutes, by Joey Chestnut. Unofficial is 69, by Takeru Kobayashi.  Fourth of July in Coney Island, we'll see how this all turns out.  So, reporting from the Montana Galley here in the Valley., this is Abilene Austin, KLUK-TV News."  Big smile...hold it...and...we're out.

Abilene is back at my booth.  "Gotta get back. Call me sometime. Stay in touch. We'll talk sports."

She looks down and thumbs her iPhone.

"You think doing something like this is a demotion?  Is this real sports?  I hope not.  But, what the heck.  I got some good camera time."  She looks at me and winks.  "See ya Belair."

Heads turn as she clickity-clicks in her high-heels through the restaurant and out to the TV truck.

Helena, slides into the booth. "You know her?"

"We worked on a few sports stories while she was on a TV station in Texas."

Helena watches Abilene through the window.  "She's sure a fast talker."

"Fast? Yes, that she is." I say.  "That she is."

----------------------

Help comes from:

DietBet.com, an online social dieting site.
http://www.competitiveeaters.com/events.html
http://articles.cnn.com/2011-07-04/us/new.york.hot.dog.contest
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Takeru_Kobayashi
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/news/all-pro-eating
Google/Images  Wikipedia/Kobayashi
 (See my posts: The Rehab of Peyton Manning/Feb 2012, and
   Jose Canseco and The Hall of Fame/Jan 2012)