The Saskatchewan Rattlers’ rousing victory in the first game of the CEBL’s
semi-final Saturday set in motion an intense five to seven minutes of
unrestrained local joy. This, however, came with consequences—the burst of
sheer elation took all the air out of the SaskTel Centre. Once the euphoria had
died out, the subsequent semi-final featuring two away teams was played in a
somewhat funereal atmosphere. The hometown Rattlers were still dispersing on
the tail end of their victory celebration when the Hamilton Honey Badgers and
Niagara River Lions took to the court for their warmups. The Rattlers had to
hurry off, and so too did the local fans.
The game commenced in front of just a smattering of
fans—perhaps five or six in Niagara blue and neon green, two or three in
Hamilton black and yellow. The paucity of Honey Badgers fans was compensated for by
the few local fans that stayed; the Saskatchewanese allegiances were squarely
with the Hamilton side. This alignment was obvious, as the hometown Rattlers
were zero of four against Niagara in the regular season. As if anticipating
this development, the Venom Girls came out rebranded in basic black with yellowish
trim. They did some perfunctory pregame sashaying and got a golf clap for their
efforts. Also competing for the attention of the crowd were the Hamilton and
Niagara mascots, “Hammer” and “Dunkin”, respectively. These two were a study in
contrast, as the former was a squat, plush badger, and the latter was a
jacked, grey-skinned lion, the fabric of his costume puffed-out to look like
steroidal sinew.
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| Hammer and Dunkin |
The Honey Badgers and the River Lions kept it close
early on. The underdog Badgers took an early lead thanks to the efforts of
Demetrius Denzel-Dyson (hereafter Triple D), a man blessed with a trio of
bankable, alliterative names. The Lions, however, would not be so easily tamed, and managed
to even the score at 18-18 midway through the first quarter. At this point, the
Rattlers players made their way back out into the arena in their street
clothes—shorts, sandals, and tube-socks to a man. They sat down in some of the
unsold front-row seats at courtside. The 6’10 Marlon Johnson plunked down right
in front of a small, blond girl-child in denim overalls. The little girl was
crestfallen, and only regained a viable vantage point when she was lifted onto
the shoulders of an elderly matriarch. Marlon eventually clued into what was
happening and made a half-turn around, grinning sheepishly.
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| Girl-child stands on chair to see over Marlon Johnson |
The on-court product was far less innocent, as the
game was getting decidedly unbridled—chippy, even. The score was 34-34 after
one quarter, and the teams were trying to take any advantage they could to pull
ahead. The Hamilton side was particularly rowdy, and yet frequently expressed
grievances vis-à-vis the referee’s calls, which they felt were going against
them at an inordinate clip. Niagara wasn’t exactly pleased with the
officiating either. After a foul call, Niagara’s Dorian Pinson called
“bullshit.” The word echoed loud and clear throughout the mortuary-like SaskTel
Centre, in which virtually all on-court chatter was plainly audible. Hearing
this, the female ref got up in Pinson’s face, advising him to put up and shut
up.
At this point, Shaquille Keith, soul of the
Saskatchewan Rattlers, strode out to courtside to sit with his teammates. He
was clad in a black and white t-shirt patterned with Mickey Mouse’s smiling
face. Soon after, Rattlers’ forward Jelane Pryce ambled out. He made a point of
stopping to shake hands with the trashy upper middle class rowdies seated at
the baseline who had cheered so stridently against Edmonton in the previous
game.
While the home team glad-handed with its fans on the
sidelines, the two away teams on the court were at the throats of their opponents,
not to mention their own teammates. As a case in point, Pinson got up into the
face of Niagara’s bona fide star, Guillaume Payette Boucard, criticizing some
aspect of his play in plaintive tones.
When in-game host Gregor inaugurated Flex Cam, it
almost seemed like a necessary stress-relief for all onlookers. Naturally, the
brawny Dunkin luxuriated in this promotional vignette, as could be expected.
But conspicuously absent was Hammer. Dunkin had also been close by Gregor’s
side for “Air Guitar Cam” earlier on in the first quarter, while Hammer was
nowhere to be found. All told, the Hamilton spokes-badger appeared shy and
reserved, the diametric opposite of the brazen and invasive deportment one
expects of a mascot.
Apparently, all the grievances within and between the
teams and the refs evened out. Hamilton and Niagara were only a hair’s breadth
apart at halftime, with Niagara leading 55-54.
For this, the less alluring of the two semi-finals,
the halftime show was a male/female hip-hop duo billed as being from Saskatoon
and Regina. The mic levels were just brutal, and the pair capered coolly while
contributing verbally to the colossal wall of sound. Fascinatingly, the few
lines that your correspondent could make out were admirably old school, worthy
of the most mean-spirited west coast gangsta rap. The lyrics concerned drug
deals and tawdry sexual liaisons, suggesting there is a thoroughly thugged-out side
of city life in Saskatchewan that is not often documented. Numbly, a few dozen
attendees watched and listened. When the combo concluded with their
Saskatchewanese ghetto poetics, a couple people applauded.
When play resumed in the second half, the referees
really made the game theirs. Virtually every sequence saw a questionable call
made against one team or the other. Together, the female ref was like a
copy-editor who wanted to correct every single grammatical solecism she saw. At
the shrillest grammatical pitch, you can find something off in virtually any
given multiclausal sentence ever written. But if you cry foul with respect to every grammatical
grey area, you will never appreciate (or make allowances for) the deeper semantic
rhythms and resonances of a composition in its totality. The same goes for
sports—to flag everything even resembling a transgression is to eliminate the deeper grammar of the game itself.
The dissatisfaction hit its tipping point when an
onrushing Hamiltonian was called for a charge on a play where the Niagara
defender didn't seem to have position. Incensed to the point of truculent
laughter, Hamilton’s troglodytic forward Murphy Burnatowski threw up both his
hands and made the finger-rubbing gesture universally indicating matters
monetary. The thesis of this hand gesture would seem to be one of conspiracy,
namely that the fix was in to put the first-place River Lions in the final.
Though such conspiracy theories are probably imagined, what was very real and
palpable was the discontent among players and fans. Sympathetic boos rained
down on the refs, and not just from the tiny Hamilton contingent in the stands.
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| Representative shot of one team regrouping, other team complaining to the ref |
Indeed, the game was being deconstructed by the
referees, and the Honey Badgers, the River Lions, and the crowd all cried foul
in unison. On more than one occasion, the three officials had to huddle
together to discuss calls. Eventually, the DJ even put in his two cents by
playing the Jeopardy! theme as one such tete-a-tete (-a-tete) went on
painfully long. In solidarity, a screaming fan hollered “Let the boys play!” It
was not clear who said screamer was cheering for, but the sentiment seemed to
please all in attendance. It didn’t seem to shake the officials, as Hamilton’s
Xavier Rathan-Mayes was soon after assessed a technical. Upon seeing this,
someone else in the crowd yelled “Let ‘em play ref!” but this time it
was more of a shriek.
Eventually, Hamilton actually had a foul called in
their favor. Triple D went to the line for the Honey Badgers, and as he shot,
his former teammate Shaquille Keith heckled him good-naturedly from the
sidelines. Triple D shot a comeback over Shaq’s way, and the two laughed about
it in that way that competitive men do. We’ll laugh now, that laugh
says, but I’ll be coming for you soon.
For all their foul trouble, Hamilton was managing to
keep pace. Niagara wasn’t necessarily prevailing in their role as favorite,
though they were getting some good breaks beyond the shrill officiating. For instance,
when Barbadian forward Kregg Jones broke in alone and missed an easy lay-in,
the ball bounced out and fortuitously landed in the hands of Lions’ guard and
resident soul-singer (look it up) Ryan Anderson beyond the arc. He put up a J
and netted it for three. At the end of the quarter, Niagara still held their
tenuous one point lead.
Early on in the fourth, the ostensible scales of
justice started to tip against Niagara. The River Lions’ big man Sam Muldrow
swatted away a Hamilton lay-up in what looked to be a textbook rejection. The
female ref, however, called a foul on Muldrow, his fourth of the afternoon.
Muldrow protested vehemently and got slapped with a technical. In the CEBL,
five fouls make for an ejection. Ergo, Muldrow’s day was over. This was met
with discontentment in the stands and on the Niagara bench.
But the River Lions’ pride didn’t get swept away. They
actually started to separate from Hamilton. It started to look as if Niagara
would meet Saskatchewan in the final, seeing if they could make it five wins in
a row against the Rattlers.
“Fan of the Game” honours were bestowed upon a
boy-child who had covered himself in unused CBC Sports towels. Gregor referred
to him as “Towel Boy.”
After four-plus hours of basketball, other fans were
also exploring similar surrealist or Dadaist approaches to keep things
interesting. In one instance, with Niagara at the charity stripe, a
female—likely one among the disgruntled Edmontonians—broke the silence with
some keening screams. For the ensuing shot, a male—presumably her mate—began
barking like a dog. Apparently, after four hours in relative civilization, the
Albertans were reverting to their semi-feral state.
Meanwhile, Hamilton was recapturing some lost ground.
After the Honey Badgers’ sparkplug Ricky Tarrant Jr. drained an exhilarating
three, he beat his chest with his fist and screamed “’bout fuckin’ time!” All
in all, there was a lot of screaming in the SaskTel Centre, both on and off the
court. On the next possession, Tarrant Jr. drained another three. As he sprinted
back to his own end, he slapped hands with Shaquille Keith at courtside.
Hamilton found itself in the lead with about a minute
to go. Still, the team was anything but even-keeled. In fact, at this crucial
juncture in the semi-final, they fell prey to the same kind of in-fighting that
had plagued Niagara in the first half. Case in point: with less than a minute
remaining, Sampson Carter and Triple D got into an intensive shouting match at
centre-court. They were nose-to-nose, jabbing each other in the chest and
spraying spittle as they shouted over one another. Finally, they pulled themselves apart, slapping each other with a violent low-five that was more sublimated
rage than it was an earnest attempt to make amends.
Leading 104-102 with 34.8 remaining, the Honey
Badgers’ uninhibited aggression got the best of them. Niagara’s Trae
Bell-Haynes drew a foul, and went to the foul-line with a chance to knot up the
score. As the fates would have it, Bell-Haynes missed both shots. Carter rushed
for the rebound and claimed it over a tripped up River Lion. It looked as if
the Badgers were out of the woods, but then Carter was—of course—called for a
foul on account of the fallen opponent. There was no justice for the Honey
Badgers. The only consolation was that four stadium affiliates wiped down the
floor to prevent further trip-ups.
The River Lions went to the line again, but only sank
one. Hamilton had the ball and the one point lead. All they needed to do was kill
the clock and they would find themselves in the finals—
But they went out of bounds.
And so, Niagara got the ball back with plenty of time
to stake out a quality shot. The River Lions inbounded the ball and got it to
Anderson—an American, and hence a safe bet in a do-or-die situation. Anderson
put up the shot and missed. Demetrius Denzel-Dyson wrestled for the rebound and
it looked like the game was now Hamilton’s for sure—
But Triple D couldn’t take full possession. Cue the
jump ball. But not before wiping down the key yet again.
Niagara won the jump ball and got possession again.
With time waning and the season on the line, they sent the ball out to their
best player Boucard. With shades of Steph Curry in the dying seconds of game
six of the NBA Finals, Boucard put up a three ball as time expired.
It bounded off the rim and into the hands of a
Hamiltonian. The buzzer sounded and the Honey Badgers poured off the bench and
onto the court. All the River Lions slouched in unison. The underdogs had
carried the day, and they were all smiling rabidly.
Losing a good game should offer little consolation for
the Niagara River Lions. With a regular season record of fifteen wins and five
losses, they finished first convincingly. Their reward for their efforts was
playing a single-knockout road game in a prairie town 2300 kilometres away from
their home base. They lost by one point, and with it lost their shot at the
championship as well. It did not matter how many times they beat the host team
during the season. They would not get a chance to make it five in a row in the
Championship game.
As for the Honey Badgers, they were now presented with
a chance to play the underdog again, this time against the host squad. They
would go into Sunday with every intention of doing a major rewrite on the
Saskatchewan Rattlers’ storybook ending.
