A wild aafree post appeared! My apologies for possibly perplexing you, but I need to let some thoughts out. This is being typed out minutes after the end of the Olympic bronze medal game between the menās national basketball teams of Australia and Spain.
As much as I wanted to stay a neutral spectator, I couldnāt. I found myself pulling for the scrappy Australians. Iāve been in Underdog Corner all tournament long. Not the wisest choice in an Olympic setting, but it is what it is.
Australia trailed by as much as nine at some point, but the Boomers clawed their way into a ballgame in the third quarter. The competition turned out to be tightly contested towards the end. Players like Patty Mills (pictured above) and Pau Gasol displayed their cojones by scoring in the clutch. At some point, there were about three (or four) lead changes in five consecutive possessions.
I thought at least two questionable foul calls were made in the final minute. The first (and less controversial) whistle went in favor of the Aussies. David Andersen was inadvertently hit on the head during a rebound play. The contact was made clearer in the replay. Because Spain was in the penalty (both teams, actually), Andersen made both free throws, which pushed the Boomers ahead by a point.
The second call had everyone up in arms. Spanish player x (I forgot his name and Iām too lazy to google it) drove to the basket and, well, tripped forward. In the replay, it looked a lot like Mr. Spaniard fell over himself. Patty Mills, the eventual man he would āfall into,ā was vertical and had his feet more or less planted on the ground. Spaniard player makes both free throws, and EspaƱa was in the lead with about five seconds left in the game.
Australia botched their inbounds play, the clock ran out, and the scrappy underdogs held their head in their hands, some staring into space in disbelief, others helplessly looking on as the entire Spanish squad danced its victory dance on the other end of the court.
I donāt usually go for the low-hanging fruit (aka blame the refs); Iād like to believe Iām a thinking and discerning fan of the game, but the second call stood out. So permit me this bout of pettiness. Wait, why am I even asking permission? This is my frigging blog!
ANYWAY, this was a bronze medal game. Olympic medal games have countless ramifications. Given everything at stake, youād think that the refs would allow the teams to decide the result. But you know what? This wasnāt even about that. It was about making the right calls and non-calls! That last one was supposed to be a non-call, and a mistake was made. In a crucial part of a crucial match.
Okay, Iām done being petty.
My heart sank seeing head coach Andrej Lemanis clutch his face and crouch in anguish, as the last play of his team unraveled. It was excruciating seeing Patty Mills, who 1. got jacked AF for international play and 2. took over games, defeated. I was deflated seeing Andrew Bogut watch from the sideline (Actually, I take that back. He fouled out less than three minutes into the third quarter. Thatās completely on him.)
Iām aware of the logical leaps and irrational outbursts here, but thatās how it is when you're aching from the loss of the team you rooted for. I rooted for France, and France got the boot. I rooted for Argentina, and Argentina got kicked out. Iāll probably feel the same way about Serbia after their gold medal game against Team USA, but I shouldnāt get ahead of myself.
Ah, well. The interplay between victory and defeat hugely contributes to making a sport great. And I love this sport.
This marks the end of my little rant. Time for an episode of āBetter Call Saulā before the next game. Cheers.











