Twisting socks; Sydney Kings vs Adelaide 36ers - Entertainment Centre - 20/01/07

Ethan Switch - Tuesday, January 8, 2008 - Print Version

Juicy fat peach in hand quells the uproar in the stomach. Contorting against the dismal array of cool breeze hitting over the skin on the day's way through. Frankie say relax, but Frankie is dead from exhaustion with vultures dashing hairs of salt into his eye sockets. Pepper, anyone?

Sydney Kings are well across the state with Adelaide 36ers in the dust. Long road toward the black and it's impressive to see the start of the night blow out with the hosts high on a margin of 16. Kings Matt Worthington and Russel Hinder daming the cherry shooters to mark forward a path clearer as a table cloth where you find no spills ever mark deep into the fibres of the cloth. Kings laughingly out far and wide with 35 on the dozen from the 36ers.]

Twizler, Ticklerz, Rizclez or some such bears the name of the jersey of the hip-hop kid out on court between the break. Popping the trunk and locking the joints makes not for easy viewing from the Sydney Kings Cheerleaders.

a not-so hot bloke with two scorching hot cheerleaders

Flow of motion severely cut down and all out of place trying to shoe horn in with the singer dying out. Meager scraps of audience participation ("I say Sydney. You say Kings. Sydney! ... Sydney! ... Sydney! Kings.") cap it off in the back like a need for a change in atmosphere. Drunkard laggards spill their beer in disappointment at the fact that the bloke is without an Aussie accent sharking through the lyrics.

And it's back into the swing of the second quarter. Kings slide a little into the comfy high chair of complacency. Adelaide bring up the plate to smear the butter across the face with the momentum swinging a bit back into their favour. Darren Ng from the 36ers manages to plow Jason Smith with a blatant body mop. Despite that spill in the grand scheme of shameful escapades, the Kings manage to hold off the 36ers as they prime over into the second half to sit on 53 against 31.

Blak Genius, out with his new album, The Prophecy, pimps out the appearance to spread thin on the floor of the half-time scene. Three wanderers take the stride and perceptively, make with the empty space. Lines up down the middle of the court will do that. Flank the eagle on the breadth for a better work on sonics for the visual. Who is the real Blak Genius here?

No idea which of the three happens to be the Blak Genius in question. Master of subterfuge this one. And a rather swell drop into the mix.

Tracks three makes the night pass into a mix of wanting to send the swift boot of Colorado justice into the heads of men in the rows below. Berating the players is one thing. Believing there is wit when only there is the spit of lager, an entirely different plane of existence. There is no joy in watching a grown beer swiller deafen the ears of the children in the rows around with appalling attempts at humour. That is for the drugs.

Quarter three and the look of Adelaide is of the pet dog that the driver forgets is tied on to the back bumper of the car as they roll off onto the highway. Jerome Beasley strong arms the rebounds as Smith and Luke Kendall run point with South Australia sitting pretty to smack out five fouls within the first three minutes of the third. Pace slows as the Purple and Gold find themselves at the charity strip over and over again. It's enough to squeeze the blood dry from the leash before putting it on the next dog. 80 to 46, Kings now playing with blindfolds.

The Lion and the Lioness appear to be cordial and not as distant as they were in the year 2006. The year of the introduction and coy toy ploy. Makes for far less game play in terms of sexual tension. Leaves more room for the duo to work the stadium double time. Even if it means the Lioness is out back walking about quietly as the kids mob the Lion in order to snag themselves noise-cancelling head phones.

Lion and the cheerleaders

If the 36ers were looking paltry with their shooting, the Lion was not far removed. Slingshots of Tees into the crowd falling well below the usual standard of decking heads high up in the break of the silver and gold bowls. Falling short of even medium power at times.

Final quarter continues the 36ers meltdown. Even with Adrian Majstrovich, Matt Sutton and Ng up leading their pack, it's nothing much against the behemoth that is the Sydney Kings on their home court. BJ Carter knocks out 10 alone as Cameron Tovey and Anthony Susnjara double gun with 7 a piece. Seven of the Kings alone score into the double and every single player on the team picks up a score.

Total demolition, a stark flip on the near drowning of last time the two teams met here at the Kingdome. Sydney Kings 115 - Adelaide 36ers 75.