With Saturday
soccer groundhopping washed out, and every prospect of the same again on
Monday, this fixture caught my eye.
When the Yapplets were teenagers, we spent many a Sunday afternoon at
Bletchley Leisure Centre watching the Milton Keynes Lions. Since then, I’ve made a few solo diversions
to games for this blog, and the Lions have relocated via Crystal Palace to
the Copper Box in the Olympic Park.
Leicester Riders have been a very successful side in recent seasons
and are comfortably leading the league before the play-offs begin. London Lions are in mid table but had a
good win at home on Friday night against second-placed Newcastle Eagles. So, I headed for East London expecting a
tight and competitive game.
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Lions
continued their good form from last week and were leading 23-11 at the end of
the first quarter. They were
definitely up for the contest. Nothing
spectacular, just good execution of their attacking plays and good rebounding
in their own defence.
By half-time
the lead had been cut slightly to eight points, at 44-36, and there isn’t a
Lions fan anywhere who wouldn’t have bitten your hand off for that score
against the league leaders. Maybe not
the best analogy I’ve ever come up with, I’m sure lions can’t really be
blamed for hand-biting, but I digress.
A 44-36 lead was remarkable.
Cory Dixon had 16 points personal, and although Riders had briefly
threatened to draw level towards the end of the second quarter, Lions nailed
a couple of threes to settle any nerves.
Having seen
Riders coach Rob Paternostro both towards the end of his playing career, and
early in his tenure as a coach, I expected better from hair-dried Riders in
the second half. It didn’t
happen. The lead opened out to 50-36, then
55-40 and then 66-46 after an unsportsmanlike foul had been given against
Riders. The third quarter ended with
the score at 70-51 and even more surprisingly with Paternostro sitting down
rather than pacing the touchline like an angry vulture. For all the world it looked like they had
given up on this one.
In the fourth
quarter, Lions slowed the game a little with time on their side. Some of their bench players got court time. Paternostro, now awake, said something to
an official, who promptly awarded a technical foul against him. The coach must have responded again,
because a second T-sign followed and he was ejected. There were an embarrassing few moments
whilst he collected some things and muttered to his staff, before sloping off
to the changing rooms. All very strange
and unexpected. Even the Lions fans
were a bit stunned. It finished 93-72.
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Cheerio etc etc |
If you are
Vince Macaulay (back once again in charge of the Lions) or a Lions fan, you
won’t be unduly concerned. Three
consecutive wins put the team in a better place for the play-off run in. You will have lost so many times against
the Riders in recent seasons that you won’t give a hoot about Paternostro’s
departure or the strange lethargy of the opposition today. You’ll only care if you had money on the
odds-on Riders win as part of what I understand the young people of today
call an acca. Their last defeat was in
mid-January at Newcastle, and this is only their third league defeat of the
season. I cannot fault the Lions at
all – this was a job well done, and they wanted this result. Leicester, by and large, had the day off. Five of the Lions ended up with
double-digit points tallies, with Justin Robinson’s strong second half taking
him to 25 personal. Dixon finished with 20 and Brandon Peel weighed in with 18. Pierre Hampton top-scored for Riders with 15. They have played three top-tier games in less than a week, impressive in any context.
As for me,
did this rekindle my desire to re-connect with professional basketball in
this country? Frankly, no. It really didn’t. Despite Herculean efforts (and I am aware
that Mr Macaulay has been centre-stage at times in trying hard to take the
game forward in this country), UK basketball seems to be in transition yet
again. It is fighting for national
funding. Superleague netball has a better TV product. The team at the bottom of
this top-tier league is turning up short-handed for fixtures. My ticket, including Ticketmaster fee AND a
bizarre £1 fee for printing my own ticket at home (how can that possibly be
justified?), was £22.45. Most of the
regular football groundhopper readers of this blog (hello, both of you) would
get at least two non-league games for that.
And a pie. Sorry about the palpitations I may have caused you two, there. I feel quite sad in
writing this because I really, really wanted it to be better. Any sport that is played with the Benny Hill theme occasionally playing in the background should be encouraged.
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