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Prince and Pearl

Enough already with these almost daily RIP’s!  I’m getting concerned that I may run of out of living heroes here by year’s end.  Seriously, in the span of a few months now we’ve lost my country hero, Merle Haggard, rock hero, David Bowie, hip hop hero, Phife Dawg, R&B hero, Maurice White, New Orleans hero Allen Toussaint, keyboard hero, Joe Sample, and now PRINCE?  The contribution that these 7 men have made to my soul and well being is immeasurable.  Take the songs that these 7 men and their wonderful musicians produced, throw them into a stew, mix, digest and life becomes a beautiful thing.  It’s so much more than just temporary enjoyment or entertainment.  It’s an active living part of the fiber that makes me who I am.  I can take a bad day or a set back because I’m running with Joe Sample playing a Rhodes solo.  I can see beauty looking at a dusty farm out of my window because Haggard and his Bakersfield gang are twanging away.  I can feel joyful and free dancing with my wife to a deep Prince track at any given moment. Music is my religion, and I’ve been blessed to have been guided by these luminaries.

Just one day before the news of Prince passing, I was in deep reflection over the passing of Pearl Washington, the NYC ball handling wizard who put Syracuse on the map and poured kerosene on my raging hoop fire.  Pearl came out of the playgrounds of Brooklyn almost simultaneously as break-dancing, Run DMC and hip hop were creeping into suburbia across the nation.  He represented a new brand of cool that sold me on the spot.  His game was beautiful, natural and free.  He had the athletic ability and size of a mere mortal, but his ball handling and ability to slow the game down made him deadly.  He would mesmerize the defense with his magical handle, and before they could react, he would thread a no look pass to a cutter or pull up for a quick bank shot.  Basketball in most cases is won by fundamentals, defense, size and strength, but Pearl was the rare athlete who won by trickery and deception.  He, along with the likes of Chris Mullin, Walter Berry and Mark Jackson at St John’s and Patrick Ewing at Georgetown made the Big East seem like a mythical conference and kept me spellbound in front of the tube every Saturday.  

For the record, sometime in 1985, I named our new family cat Pearl in honor of Dwayne “Pearl” Washington.  (note:  Sadly, our dear feline Pearl only lasted about 5 months before being run over by a car)

Now, just for fun, I’m going to step into my time machine and dial up Friday, March 1, 1985.  Okay, strapped in, ready for ignition, starting to spin, whoa this feels crazy, yikes I think I may puke and …….holy shit I’m in my living room and my mom is in a Jane Fonda leotard dancing to Delirious from the Prince 1999 album.  This is weird.  I’m wearing a Syracuse tee, shorts and Larry Bird Cons.  My arms and legs are toothpicks and I’m giddy and petrified all at once seeing my mom getting down, but against all better juvenile judgement, I think it’s time for a quick dance party.  Prince will do that to you.  After working up a sweat and grooving through Lady Cab Driver, it’s time for a seat on the couch.  The Sporting Green is on the coffee table and college basketball is dominating the headlines.  March Madness is just days away.  The Santa Clara Broncos are 16-8, including a win at Pauley and a narrow loss at Louisville.   Looking at the TV guide, I’m reminded that Pearl Washington and The ‘Cuse are playing Georgetown on Sunday.  I will be there front and center for that one.  Life is good.

After passing an hour or two shooting the ball in my front yard, I look across the street and see Chip, Shanan and Ted, dressed head to toe in purple, piling into a car to go see Prince at the Cow Palace.  For some reason that I can’t recall, I didn’t join those guys when they camped out overnight at the Warehouse to purchase tickets for the show.  God damn I’m jealous.  Prince at the Cow Palace in ‘85 (hit me!)  The Purple Rain tour (hit me 2 times!!)  Morris Day and the Time opening (hit me 3 times!!!)  Aplolonia Kotero (ahhhhh bridge – take me to the bridge).

It’s night now and my parents are out to dinner and my sister is off at a friends for the night, and I’m feeling sorry for myself.  How did I miss out on seeing Prince?  This feels like the time I missed the Kiss show at the Cow Palace in ‘79 because my parents didn’t think (and rightly so) that I was ready to handle myself at 8 years of age at a sold out rock show.  It hurts, but the best remedy is to put on the Purple Rain record and have my own party.  Prince will make it right.   

 

True Story – That night I danced my blues away through the entire 1999 and Purple Rain records and I’ll never forget the joy that I felt losing myself in the music.  Good thing I hadn’t yet discovered the Dirty Mind (‘80) or Controversy (‘81) albums or I may have started breaking things.

Thank you Prince.  Thank you Pearl.    

 

Set List – Cow Palace – March 1, 1985

 

http://www.setlist.fm/setlist/prince/1985/cow-palace-daly-city-ca-23dccc07.html
Check it out – It’s insane.

 

Pearl

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Midnite Blogger

3 Point Plan for NCAA Hoops

Midnight Blogger here to voice a complaint:  NCAA Division I College Basketball is broken.  What was arguably the best sport in the land in the 80-90’s’s is now just a shell of it’s former self.  Do you remember when Big Monday was a big deal?   When a dreary January Monday would suddenly transform into something special with a Big East, Big 10 and Mountain West (UNLV) must see triple header?  I was raised on Big Monday.  Because of Big Monday, I was barely granted admission into an average out of state public university.  Because of Big Monday, I never had a date in high school. Because of Big Monday, I developed a rare sleeping disorder where I would unconsciously jump out of bed and post up my dresser in the middle of the night.  Okay one of those is a fib but seriously, who studied when Stevie Thompson and Sherman Douglas were on TV?  I’m proud of my decision dammit.

Fast Forward 25 years: Tonight I saw a Big Monday battle between UNC/Syracuse in the TV guide and I glossed over it as if it were a televised mano a mano high stakes poker game between a fat white guy chomping on a stogie and a Asian woman in shades with a startling amount of cleavage peeking out.  I was bothered by my lack of interest.  So after embracing this concern and practicing a tranquil 20 minute mindfulness session, here are three easy fixes to bring the game back to the forefront.

One:  Stop realigning the leagues every 3 years.  Enough of the money grab from these University presidents.  Something isn’t right when the only people in the country who know what league the top 50 teams play in are the Vegas oddsmakers.  Syracuse in the ACC?  Maryland in the Big 10?  Stop it.  Just stop it.  I want my rivalries back.

Two:  Enough already with the TIMEOUTS!  There are now 8 automatic TV timeouts and 5 (One 60 sec and four 30 sec) for each school per game.  I’ll repeat, 8 soul crushing, flow killing TV stoppages of the action.  That’s just plain greedy on the NCAA’s part if you ask me.  How many dollars from Little Caesars and Appleby’s do these guys need to keep the lights on over at corporate headquarters? And as a fan, how do you expect me to stay engaged in a close game with 18 timeouts? Jiminy Christmas the game is only 40 minutes long.  This isn’t football.  These kids aren’t even breaking a sweat.  Why it’s the poor kids standing in the student section and the cheerleaders who are getting the workout.  I’d like to see a Fitbit cardio battle between the power forward on the floor and the kid doing cartwheels in the Gator mascot suite on the sidelines.

So, if the NCAA has to keep their 8 TO’s to pay the bills, then the schools only get 1 TO for the entire game.  I know that these are amateur athletes in a teaching environment, but come now, let these kids learn to be creative and resilient under fire and figure it out on their own.  Everybody will benefit. And think of the added excitement it will bring watching the poor $3,000,000/year coaches sweat over when to use their lone TO.

Three:  The NCAA, NBA Commissioner Adam Silver and the NBA Players Association  must broker a deal that requires a kid to play 3 full seasons of college ball or be 21 in order to enter the draft.  I know I’m a horrible, un-American, Commie rat bastard for taking away a young man’s right to earn a living for he and his family, but think back to the days when kids stayed three years.  Ewing will always be synonymous with Georgetown.  Jordan with UNC.  Larry Johnson with Vegas.  College ball was more exciting than the NBA, which is no longer the case.  Today’s good college teams are decimated annually in the draft and as a fan, it’s hard to get used to an entire new cast of characters every season.

Case in point:  Wouldn’t you like to see a Kansas team this season with McLemore, Wiggins and Embiid on the floor.  Or how about this Duke team with Parker and Hood.  Arizona with Drew Gordon.  Kentucky with Julius Randle, Nerlens Noel and James Young.  Michigan with Stauskas, McGary and Glenn Robinson III.  Shoot even a UCLA team with Shabazz, Zach LaVine, Jordan Adams and Kyle Anderson would be fresh.

Enough.  Somebody make it happen.

Midnight Blogger Out