Coach's Corner

My girlfriend, Kelly, is all moved in now. To tell you the truth, I'm not too sure how this happened. Some time last year, she sat me down, gave me a glass of bourbon, told me to be calm, and said this: "I just renewed the lease on my apartment for six more months. I'm not [her emphasis] going to renew it again." The eye contact was withering. "You are catching my drift here?" Then she added, I guess for the sake of clarity, "You've got six months. Deal with it." Indeed, though my eyes may have registered some confusion, I, a master of understanding the female mind, understood perfectly. She's been moved in for a while now, and I have no complaints. However, I'd be remiss if I didn't admit to some periods of adjustment. For example, there's the issue of my stuff. Well, I used to think of it as my stuff, but now it's my shit and it's, for the most part, piled in the garage. I didn't know she had problems with my comfy old stuff, but though we'd dated for some years, she did, because it's now "my shit." I was unaware how much she hated lots of stuff (shit) around the house.

Comforting pictures on the wall, up since the mid-1980s, were a particular source of repressed female displeasure. One day, just like that, many were gone. In their place is some new stuff I'd never seen before. She seemed pleased when I noticed. "Don't you just love it?" she asked. "Yeah, I guess, but what happened..." but before I finished the sentence she said, as if it were as common as a windy day in April, "Oh, you know, I always hated that shit." Well, to be honest, I didn't know, but okay - "Yeah sure, honey, they're great."

Nightstands were another problem. I hadn't given them a thought since the day the ex-wife and I split things up a decade and a half ago, and I got the nightstands - which, reflecting back, I guess she didn't think too much of either. For Kelly's needs, however, my nightstands are woefully inadequate for all the female things she needs around. I stubbornly held out for a few months, but under relentless pressure, I caved. If you think it's hard to spend $800 on two nightstands, think again. It's not. There's the creaky headboard, the ugly couch, the nasty sheets, the uncomfortable pillows, the bed skirt thing (it didn't match) and the ratty old quilt. All these things, my shit - to assuage my feelings of male displacement I suppose - are now stashed, in temporary purgatory, in the garage... until she says it's time to throw all that shit away.

As I sit here, working at this crappy, cheap, old computer table, which I'm sure is on the hit list, I'll say again, I'm not complaining. In fact, I'll admit, her stuff does look a little better than my shit. I've been in therapy. I understand I have to let her make her place. Now we meet on the another battleground: The Closet. That's a story I'll tell another time.

Parting Shots: I don't care if DeLoss Dodds hires Phil Jackson and throws in Rick Pitino to help out with recruiting, it won't excuse the fiasco that's surrounded the basketball program the past month. No matter how you want to view this latest disaster within the UT Athletic Department, it all could have been avoided. Any first-year psych student - only the barest trace of common sense needed - could have, when the first hint of serious discord surfaced, placed all the aggrieved parties together and put Humpty back up on his horse. Which leaves only two conclusions: Either Dodds went far, far out of his way - why we'll never know - to do everything possible to grease the skids beneath Penders, or his blind, incompetent bumbling would make a nice bit in a new Three Stooges movie. Take your pick. Either way it sucks...

I was pleased when Doug Collins got canned by the Pistons, because I knew he'd be returning to the broadcast booth. He was the best guy doing pro basketball in all of tubeland. Previously, he had worked on TBS/TNT in a cozy two-man set-up, where his insightful, humorous, understandable commentary had an uninterrupted rhythm and flow. So the news that NBC had signed him to team with Isiah Thomas and Bob Costas didn't make me too happy. First, the cable guys out-perform the networks every time. Second, three guys, each with something to say, is way too much, particularly in a fast-paced game like pro hoops. Third, further competing for precious air time are incessant network promos. Sometimes, it seems the game is only on to promote Dateline. Fourth, the networks don't do much early round playoff coverage. With TBS/TNT, Collins was on the air every night for a month. Fifth, Costas, a guy with a big ego too, needs his own space. All my worst fears came to pass when I heard the NBC crew doing the Bulls/Rocket game. It was a mess. Maybe I'm paranoid, but it seemed like Isiah tried to make it hard for Collins. Anyway, he hogged all the air time, making it impossible for Collins to fit in. Collins was all but invisible. This sucks too.