Manama Game

From Nov. 10-09

I shave my head twice a week. Try it.

I never shave my eyebrows though. It’s probably something, however, that I should consider.

Earlier, I told you Bahrain means “Two Islands.” Well, I lied. It means “Two Seas.” I read it in a magazine at Dairy Queen. And some phenomenon occurs where these two seas meet, and that’s the fact that fresh-water springs bubble up from the depths and combine with the salt water. There is speculation that this combination is what gives Bahraini pearls the luster that makes them conspicuously wonderful. Bahrain’s early commerce was built around the pearl trade.

Bahrain was the first Gulf state in which oil was discovered, maybe in 1918 or thereabouts. But it is the Gulf state with the least oil. There are 1.2 million people walking around the island (tho not all at the same time nor in the same place), 700,000 of them are locals. The island is 30 miles by 20 miles. So 600 million square miles.

The other day I was doing my power-walking routine (that occurs before my swim; that occurs before DQ) at Amwaj Island and I was walking thru a section where the abodes all sit on waterways, giving things a pleasing Venice-like look. I saw a yard sale in progress, and was attracted to a bunch of books. The gal selling them (I took five) is from Florida but has recently been in Southern California. I told her that, conversely, I’m from Southern California but have recently been in Florida! In the ensuing eerie silence the sounds of both our jaws dropping was clearly audible. Loud clicking.

The result is that I now have five new books and can stop reading the book on the history of the Balkans that Dr. Kevin gave me when I left Miami. The history of the Balkans, by the way, is mostly one of mayhem, hatred and carnage and the teams committing these are too numerous to tell apart. Who cares who gets Macedonia?

We had our first big game, vs. Manama, Saturday nite. The gym was packed (one side all Manama, the other side one-third us, one-third VIPs, and one-third people in general). It was so loud that my players could hear nothing I tried to yell at them. At time-outs I had to shout to be heard, over all the drums and noise. We got off to a terrible start. While they were scoring fast break layups, we were turning the ball over just about every time. The general rule on turnovers: good at bakery shops, bad in basketball.

We were quickly down 12 or 14, to the glee of the crowd in blue. Had I been watching the game, I would have asked, “What in the world does the coach of the red team do at practice?” A very valid question regarding yours truly. We were awful in every phase. Somehow, despite 13 turnovers, we pecked away and were only down two at the break.

The second half see-sawed, but we were mostly behind by around five or six. With 28 seconds left we were down one and Manama had the ball. We had to foul four times to get them to the free throw line (because of the team-fouls situation) and when one of their players finally got there only ten seconds remained. He missed one of his two shots and our point guard somehow managed to wend his way thru traffic and take the ball to the other end where he scored a difficult layup. Overtime.

We trailed the first three minutes then finally got a lead and it stood up, for a final score win, 88-84. A truly ugly win, but preferable to a truly ugly loss. A year from now I’ll be talking about spiffy we were that game. Lamond had 27 points and 21 rebounds and a timely block near the end, but also 7 turnovers. We finished with 21 TOs, after having 5 the game before. After the game: relief; while our players sang and danced Arab-style before our drum-pounding supporters.

You probably think my asst., Ahmed, was a shrinking violet this game. But you would be wrong in thinking that. During the game he was on his feet screaming at the refs a good deal and we kept getting warnings that if he didn’t sit down we’d get a technical foul. You’re now certain that he thereafter behaved. Wrong again. In a short while he was up, leaping and gesticulating wildly. We got a tech, and they made free throw and got possession (else the game wouldn’t have gone overtime).

I was told that this protest was because league rules say that if a team’s fans pelt the floor/opponents with objects then the refs have to call a technical foul. Manama fans kept pelting, but only warnings ensued. So he got ballistic. Then, right after the game, as he and players were exulting, Manama fans peppered our proceedings with a pair of very loud cherry bombs. Soon, Ahmed had raced across the floor to the fence and was screaming at the Manama fans there. They were trying with all their might to get over the barrier and at him but were foiled when the police escorted him, kicking and hollering, out of harm’s way.

I watched couple of games the next nite and once again saw the girlfriend of the Hala player. She hasn’t left here because her agent can’t firm up a decent job offer. He told her that import numbers and salaries are way down because of world recession. Lots of leagues have dropped from, say, 12 teams to eight, etc.

Tomorrow night we play against Najmah, the team that “wasn’t ready” when we were supposed to play them first game of the season. And then on Sunday we get winless Bahrain Club, led by their style-setting coach—who last game once more wore his Chi Bears Singletary jersey. I’m told he also has a Ronnie Lott and a Lawrence Taylor. So there’s some versatility in the boy’s wardrobe.

Who’ll kill me first: my players or Ahmed?

Coach G