I've been a Boston Celtics fan for a long, long time. And last night was a long time coming. The game was an almost total blowout over longtime rivals the Los Angeles Lakers (the Lakers enjoyed a four-point lead early in the first quarter). I’m not sure the boys from L.A. quite knew what hit them. It was such a blowout, and I was so seriously tired, I considered going to bed at the end of the third quarter. But I persevered and enjoyed the trophy ceremony almost as much as if I’d been standing on the parquet floor.
I remember the high hopes every fan had when the Celtics drafted Len Bias in 1986 – their last championship season. Bias was a star player from the University of Maryland; acquiring him pretty much guaranteed the continuation of the dynasty, at least for a few years. Twenty-two years ago tomorrow, however, Bias died of a cocaine overdose.
The circumstances of his death were the catalyst behind the draconian cocaine drug laws which are just now being reformed. We have a long way to go. My volunteer work at Alderson Federal Prison Camp (where I was honored to be named Volunteer of the Year this year) brings me in close contact with about 100 women each week who have been sentenced under these laws. But as quickly as they are being released (due to the long-overdue revisions), the prison beds are filled again.
Interesting how one thing leads to another, all these years later.
Moving on …
I learned an important blogging lesson yesterday. It’s better for my sense of accomplishment if I don’t tell you my exercise plan before I actually do it. More often than not, I end up not doing what I thought I would do. Most of you are well aware of this quirky little rule, reporting what you actually did, instead of your intentions.
My intentions yesterday were to run, plain and simple. I instead ended up walking six miles with my husband on a lovely, shaded road that winds by a creek. (He walks this route nearly every day; he likes to say he does a daily 10K.) It took us nearly two hours and was thoroughly enjoyable – much moreso than a hard four-mile run would have been.
I’m now a third of the way through the baby sweater sleeves. Blowout basketball games = plenty o’ knitting time.