On the Street

"Wow, Yao?"

Un-Ironic Sports Analysis

That could possibly be one of the highlights they play when Manu is inducted into the basketball hall of fame. Given his macabre consistent highlevel of success, how could he not be? But that is a tangent for another time. The Spurs steamrolled through their first three below average opponents and won fairly easily, even when they were goofing off at stretches. Except Manu who has stormed out of the gate and is playing at a very high level. Supposedly he took the whole Summer off. If so it shows because he seems to have turned back the clock to his 2005 level of dominance. Hopefully people will no longer look at his 2005 playoffs as an abberation.

(And speaking of Summers off, I've heard rumors that Dirk Nowitzki, the MVP/whipping boy of the Dallas Mavericks took the whole Summer off as well. I've heard reports that he was in the Australian desert the whole time, perhaps "walking the Earth?" I haven't seen much written about this but there is something mythical and unusual about a millionaire walking the Earth to find himself after a humiliating defeat. Perhaps this will be his George Foreman rumble in the jungle moment as he comes back a new person. I haven't seen any Mavericks games yet (why would I really?) so my hopeful analysis is probably just that.)

The Spurs lost to the Rockets, though Manu's dunk will probably be all that is remembered from that game in the long term. The Rockets played at a playoff level. For us, Manu played at a playoff level. The rest of the team didn't take it to the same level and that's probably the simplest way to describe why we lost. Tim is easing into the season as he often does, which is probably wise. Tony has been playing well and his shot looks better than ever. I'm intrigued to see some of the new guys play but our backup point guard isn't getting consistent minutes so perhaps some expectation is not being met. Our other new player Ime didn't play much versus the Rockets, but hopefully he will as he learns the "system."

First Friday

In going to First Friday it seems I've settled into a consistent pattern of approaching. Some might call this a "rut". I enjoy approaching Southtown by bike and flying past the "Weekend"-esque line of cars jammed together on S. Alamo.

But in doing so I'm probably missing some of the more interesting elements as they hover in the outer orbit. Nonetheless, here is some evidence of what I saw, and most of it is at Bluestar, which might be part of my issue.

I went first to Cactus Bra where Leslie Raymond of Potter Belmar had an installation with a title that I believe was called "The Garden".

My friend had to go get a drink but I hung back for a few minutes and absorbed myself in the radiant energy.

Minutes later (10?, 20?) I found myself at the UTSA Sattelite space. Perhaps what stuck with me most was this poster, right next to the bathroom. I appreciate iconic propaganda. From what I remember these two pieces related to the Basques.

The ETA doesn't seem to be our friend, if we believe the poster. ZP is our friend? I know nothing. I want to know more.

Here, inside the UTSA space were fotos by an assortment of artists. Though the presentation occasionally was a bit rickety, the photos were solid. I understand there is an ongoing conversation in the photographic world about the documentation of despair. As writers are driven to whiskey, it seems documentary photographers are drawn to dilapidation.

An unusal real estate listing.

From another angle.

Overhearing their conversation, it seemed this gentleman was one of the artists.

This inscription perhaps was even better than the foto.

I went back outside and saw a gathering down the dark alley.

Here, artwork didn't need galleries. Open, as in open air.

Laser light shows supposedly began in San Antonio. Something about Pink Floyd and a bag of dirt weed. Rumors...who knows how they really started. Seen here is a local rapper getting after it. A continually evolving crowd came over to check out the spectacle.

After the back alley moments, we went up some stairs to a loft space that might have been called The Loft. The nautical painting might have been the most interesting thing there.

Or was it this green Vietnamese walking pig? The green color was somewhat a result of the flourescent light being at 4100 degrees Kelvin, corresponding to the color green as we know it, or something like that...

And as most often, the night ended at Beethoven's. There were no majestic speeches by Churchill (which happened months previously), but this gentleman lorded over the bar charmingly, giving commentary on the Spurs game which played on a screen to camera right. The Spurs won that game easily.

Outside a reggae band kept things mellow.

On Sunday I saw the Clooney film Michael Clayton. I wanted to see to Darjeeling Limited but the preciousness of Wes Anderson seemed too much to bear. I just had a bad feelinga about it. Michael Clayton lived up to the positive reviews. Many reviews however were that it was too slow, which only reinforced the dubiousness of pace. Though the action wasn't quick the actual pace of the story events was brisk. Of course this is in contrast to many films with no story to tell but are presented in rapid fire order to create the sensation of motion.

The lost idealist lawyer story is often gold. The ghost of "The Verdict" hangs over the film and if pressed could be part of this equation, Michael Clayton = Verdict meets Erin Brockovich (sic).

Sunday matinees are usually good times. I'm not sure what I'll see next.

And so goes another week on the streets of San Antonio. As always, to be continued...