Tonight, I went to the movies. I had a ticket for Spider Man: Into the Spiderverse. It was a perfect movie. The story was perfect, the artwork was perfect, the music was perfect, Jake Johnson was perfect, you get the gist.
I didn’t make it through to the credits.
A few weeks ago, Aaron Barzilai (@basketballvalue on Twitter) of HerHoopStats posited a wonderful little idea when ESPN’s Adrian Wojnarowski and his former protégé, Shams Charania, both tweeted out news of the Lakers’ signing mercurial free agent Michael Beasley within seconds of each other. What if we could have some sort of automated method to keep track of the score on similar news hits from both Shams and Woj?
Thank you Will Rice College for being the embodiment of every single value that I hold closest – passion, competitiveness, dedication, family. I love the fire that burns within every single Will Ricer. You’ve allowed me to grow into the best version of myself and never stopped embracing me, even as I drifted away at various points. You were the best home that I could have asked for. You were and are my family. I can’t forget the whole squadron of Will Ricers coming out to cheer me on during my startup competitions, or coaching Freshman Flag, or four years of Beer Bike, or dancing on your tables, or the infinitely numerous other memories which comprise a list far too long to list out individually. I’m calling it now – we’re getting a sweep within the next three years. I’m ready to graduate, but I have yet to figure out whether I’m ready to leave Will Rice.
11 years. That’s how it long me to get a green card. I was sitting in COMP140 on a Tuesday afternoon when I got a text from my dad saying that our green card application had finally been processed and approved.
I moved to the United States when I was seven. I left everything behind, as did my parents. I arrived in New Orleans, got off the plane, and went to my dad’s friend’s house. We pranced around the living room sofas, as six- and seven-year olds are wont to do. I’d never seen a house that big before. Or a bathroom with tiles that shiny. My dad’s friend said I could choose whether I wanted to drink apple juice OR chocolate milk OR soda. My seven-year-old head was spinning. Is this what’s possible? Is this what it feels like to live in America?
It’s cliché at this point to state that the NBA has become a shooter’s league. Guys who can knock in shots reliably from behind the arc are at a premium and sought after more than ever. Just look at what the Cavaliers have done in the playoffs so far. However, even as the amount of skilled shooters (and more generically, scorers) increases, some players – looking at you Steph – continue to set themselves apart from the pack. There are a lot of good scorers, good shooters, but what separates good from great is the versatility of their shot making ability. To be able to put the ball through the net in any condition.
It’s human nature to compare, and nowhere is that tendency more present than with sports. We have an almost debilitating dependency on analyzing players by comparing them to others. And well, if we’re gonna do that, may as well do it in as informed a way as possible. Men lie, women lie, numbers don’t.
Did you know Ryan Tannehill’s box score from last Sunday pegs him as roughly the greatest quarterback in NFL history? He went 18 of 19 for 282 yards and 4 touchdowns. The NFL world was abuzz over him setting the record for most consecutive completions. On the flip side, did you know that 248 of those yards came after the catch? Tannehill himself only technically threw for 34 yards on 19 attempts. That’s an obscene amount of screens and flares and quick slants. It’s also emblematic of what has started to separate the NFL from the NBA.
My Three Senths: Sports. Business. Life. 