Penetration and transitions bubble the minds of the three fellows walking toward the Entertainment Centre. Light in the day is still to be had with tip-off only a few minutes away. Rustling down the back something irksome, an envelope ready for the zonking during next morning's train ride. Taking up one and half seats with a wayward leg, a problematic woman prompts a wandering across the vacant sea of purple. Through the difficult decision of where to take refuge, the feet unexpectedly end up walking to the seats—who only an hour or so prior were claiming absence for the night. With such an abundance of empty seats in the silver section, the move is already made down that bit closer toward the railing.
Adelaide opens the scores after taking the messy jump. Rodney O doesn't sound like Rodney O from the mere vocal sampling of the starting fives. A low throat utters the familiar phrase, "one to come," at the Adelaide free throw marking that yes, "the Voice" is in the Kingdome. The Kings are lost in their defence for the opening few minutes before they come back and take over the lead. Energy is non-committal for both sides with wayward shots getting the better of the teams as they walk off at 34 to 26 with Kings up for the second.
The Harlequins follow incidental tracks of music and logic. Not limiting themselves to just the court area they sparkle the sidelines with continued outburst and dazzle. They also seem to be getting more of a tan, an observation debunked with the note of stockings. But you don't wear stockings on your arms outside the lair. From start to end, the Harlequins don't ever lose their pompoms and continue with their high energy performance for the entire night all around the stadium floor.
Ball handling by the Kings in the second picks up a little flair as their passing game starts the motion. Dunks begin here in earnest with what feels like a parade of men hanging from the rims one after the other. More outside shots are made and most miss but the 36ers are on target for most of theirs with Brett Maher doing most of the work. Things happen and the mind clears the memory seeing ashes as the Kings pick up the speed and climb 60 over the 43 held by Adelaide into the second half.
Jabbering of letters near the sounds of D-U-B, B-A-U-D, G-H-B or D-H-B introduce a hip hop act for the half-time. Baggy clothes bomp about in one spot of the court. One girl is excited at the mere mention of their name and takes another hefty swig of beer. Shovelling agony, the trio on court continue to torture the crowd for not one but two songs that bleed all over the place with "yeahs," "uh-huhs," and "ahs" and no easy expectation of an end. Garbled lyrics thankfully devoid of outright profanity and cussing dress lines mentioning possible use of weed or such.
Their performance is forced, insincere and limited as they face the near entirety of their their act toward the bench side of the stadium looking they they want to break into a dance of sorts. Throughout the hurt delivered by this crew, shirts, shorts and basketballs are being laid out for the follow-up. After some time bearing the pain they walk off and again manage to muffle their name leaving many to guess at who the hell they had just been watching.
Unusually tall compared to the other under-a-metre contestants, a teenager on the far side sizes up her competition. Running alongside, the Lion thwarts her attempts at beating the little ones by kicking away the shorts and singlet laid out in the path. Stepping into the shorts, her face is covered by a sense of defeat as a little girl charges up the court—without dribbling the ball—and sinks a shot to take the comp. Despite calls from the crowd she walks away the winner.
Jason Smith hands Mark Sanford a nice pass to start the dunking again for the second half. Willie Farley continues his fire from the outside landing three after three. Despite a few of the 36ers playing well they on the whole start falling apart with bigger gaps in their defence and weaker shots. Slapping abounds with blocks and denials here and there. Jet's Rollover DJ is still stuck on heavy rotation as every time CJ Bruton makes a play they crank that sucker out. Which is often. The third ends at 91-73.
Contests are endless with yet another draw taking place during the timeout. The Lion, while walking around the court more for this outing than the last home game, is left to nothing outside pulling a name from the big can of Coke or a Trendwest bag. Entertainment is choking under the weight of promotions and sponsored tie-ins for the crowds.
Fumbles and loose balls open "Money Time" before another break in the dunk rhythm is noted. Kings continue all the way to the end with their fast passing and quick shots. Cleaning up is hard to do though Adelaide make their best to stave a haemorrhaging. Two seconds to run, BJ Carter ends the night with a lay up that so desperately cries out to be another dunk in the game. Sydney Kings claim the Adelaide 36ers with 122-106.
Reviewed on Thursday, 4 November 2004