My name is not Mary Katherine Blackwood. I am 36 years old, exactly one year older than the Minnesota Timberwolves, and I live in Minneapolis with thousands of my brothers and sisters. I have often thought that with any luck at all we could see the Wolves parade down Nicollet Mall on a perfect early summer afternoon, because when I was six my dad took me to see Doug West and the T-Wolves beat the Charlotte Hornets and ever since then I’ve believed, but I’ve had to be content with what I have.
Read MoreIn 1977 the Portland Trailblazers won their first and, at this writing, only NBA championship. They did this after never making the playoffs before in their six year existence.
Read MoreFrom the time I could run, I understood myself to be an athlete. Early on, I played baseball and then softball. In adolescence, I was devoted to basketball, playing year-round for my high school team. By the time I went to college, however, I had stopped playing sports. I was hungry to reinvent myself in a new community without the drag of old identities from back home, “athlete” included.
Read MoreI know it’s bad because I miss Jim Nantz. I miss the Masters. I miss golf. I miss what could arguably be called the most boring sport on television…
Read MoreBasketball never stops. Sure, the 2019 NBA Finals are in the rearview mirror, but there is still plenty of hoops hype to be had in the summertime.
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