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Pad See-Yew with a crack of an eggshell and the tip-off is underway. Heat builds quick with a shank of plastic down the front. Apparently it works double. Optimistically blind, a row steal the seats one behind, leaving the front all clear as the resolve.
Sydney Kings are impressive with the lead out early over the Townsville Crocodiles. Matt Worthington is out stepping a change up with no sign of slowing down to smell the burning leather. Crocs throw up little in the way of strong defence and formidable offence this early out in the first quarter. Spectacular dunk force from Jerome Beasley is too much as the ball shoots straight out of the ring toward the rafters and its Kings 31 over 22 for the Crocs.
Flies. Damn flies. Spring isn't here until the incessant insects are back out in force. Waiting in line at the box office, they make sure the people know it's coming up close to summer.
Finger licking glow sticks fly from the silver section and into the backs of heads in the gold. Spotlights in the dark introduce the Sydney Kings in a classy showing of simple light effects. Comatose floodlights keep the Entertainment Centre in the moments before dusk as the clock stays forever on three minutes. Black drapes around the dead back section of the venue present an air of cosy; with the low lights the ceiling feels equally suffocating.
Dive! Dive! Dive! Pigeons and gulls swoop to hit the air just above the heads of those waiting outside the Ent Cent. Cover the eyeballs, they want more after a taste of those slim-fat fries. Sizzling hot plates burn the tongue with a sauce that won't stop. Purple tickets are made late and with that, an indication of a fairly sparse crowd in for the evening. All up to row E seems to be carpeted, all those behind slabbed with flaking cement.
Sydney Kings open the scores, moving fast and starting the run down on the Crocodiles of Townsville with swift hands and quick feet. Energy just burns off as they are all over the court making shots come fair enough despite the visitors asking otherwise. Major squeakage comes from the boards, the slightest step screeching and screaming at the wax and polish against the rubber soles. Nothing, however, is timed with making it sound like a Nike commericial shot in a dark studio. Kings see the first with 29 over 22.
Not one to actively make an effort in watching sports live I was invited by Jade to check out the Kings in the third game of the 2003 NBL Semi-Finals. The series was tied one a piece, with the respective teams winning away games. Given their outing at the quarter finals there was hope that the Kings would make Sydney proud and move on to the Grand Finals.
It was The Gas. A cover band rocking it dead centre of the court leading up to the minutes before tip-off. Fortunately we had seats positioned for the sponsors and weren't watching them behind their backs. I'd been informed that the entertainment at the Entertainment Centre hadn't been much to write about. That hasn't ever stopped anyone though. Barry White brings a heaving mass of sweaty questionability to mind. But that's another spectacle and the game that night was filled with the intensity I've been lucky enough to witness the Kings execute twice previously.
Rest of the review of Biting Off The Head (Kings vs Crocodiles - Semi-Finals: Game 3 - 29/03/03)
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