Burn the floor; Sydney Kings vs Brisbane Bullets - Entertainment Centre - 17/09/05

Ethan Switch - Sunday, 18 September, 2005 - Print Version

A littering of moon cakes on discount mark another festival that goes on by. Milling around the outside of the Entertainment Centre is down. People are all but absent. Nothing in the clouds that are just waiting to crack open hours later. With a head full of foam and moss, everything is on mute. Everything.

The Bullets of Brisbane break out the bank and bill the first bucket of the night. Mark Worthington looks like a development player, all unassuming, blending into the background. Teaming up with Ben Knight, they deliver a frenzy with an attack that sees them all over the board. Bobby Brennan and Michael Hill are an imposing set, but the Brisbane take a breath too long in the first. Rolan Roberts dunks with a force and ownership that sets Mark Bradtke on the back foot of intimidation. Kings up easily on the second half of the first quarter with 30 to 23.

Bodies fly over the backs of seats and down balconies as the Lion slingshots T-shirts into the crowd. Black balls of cotton hit nobody in particular. Two blokes slinging the shots wear the hard hats, and they're not the ones crashing through the seats.

Kings bring in a slow game to start the second quarter. Moves open up with CJ Bruton and Jason Smith getting a lot of chances from the arc. Percentage is low and the pace is trundling along. Brisbane kick the underside with Derek Rucker and Lenard Copeland hammering down easy shots and simple walks. Bullets climb over the ditch and drag the Kings into the second half. Visitors up strong with 59 on the Kings' 55.

Donning black garb, possibly of a leather persuasion, the cheerleaders return with an entirely different air about them. No two piece set costume is exactly the same as another. Outside their purple and gold, they move with a raunchier swing. Each one of the dancers holding their own and altogether as a rowdier and rougher group. Wolf whistles and cat calls escalate the more they gyrate. Bar room dancing at its cleanest.
strapping leather

Quite possibly an All Flavours sect, and maybe even under the name of 7F or 7 Dollar Crew or 7 Flavas, five follow the six. Bouncing in with a Jamaican beat, pectoral muscles of the shirtless in the group are absolutely exploding. Light, fleet of feet and so very much looking to break away from the gravity holding them down. Fast and furious, it's a whimsical act of capoeira, break dancing and hip hop that keeps a lot of the crowd still sitting in their seats.
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Attacks quicken as the third quarter brings in a tempo of fight. Bullets' Sam McKinnon falters easy under an earful from a wayward Razorbacks fan. Concentration is lacking, the break of the man seen in the sweat at the charity strip. Defence from the Kings is strong. Their arms and chest are all over the Bullets. No let up, no skin to shed, there's not much chance for anything else with the momentum of the Kings. 92-77.

Cheerleaders, back in their purple and gold glitter, show steps of the old guard. Thrusts here and there mix in with an apparent ever changing choreography. The Lion stays as close as he can to the action without dropping dead from exhaustion.

Final quarter takes a screwdriver to the ears as Queen's We Will Rock You suffers another beating. Smith taps away a rising shot and hears a call of goaltending. Replays on the big screen show the riser a couple more times. Roberts and Bradtke throw some elbows at each other. Both of them all over each other and just shy of breaking out the blood. Rams and jams sneak in under the watch of all three refs. Bruton falls into a slide and a little brawl teeters. Just shy. Kings play a easier step. Holding a breath under one hundred, Brisbane visit the free throw in the final 11 seconds to finally tip over the mark. Not enough, backs of their heads already spilling out with the Kings at 112 to win over 101.