Eighth grade tournament today. First I had the boys' consolation game, then the girls' consolation game.

Boys' game was so clean it was ridiculous. The 'lesser' team was running a ball control offense, waiting for shots. At one point in the third quarter, they took over 2:20 off the clock on one possession. I don't think they got it inside the arc more than three times. Fastest game I ever did.

I knew we were going to pay for it, though. Things have a way of balancing out. Girls game, 40 fouls. We probably could have had 20 more. Sheesh.

Don't worry, that's not karma. Karma doesn't "get" you in this life. It comes back and sticks you in the butt in the next life when you have no idea what you did wrong.

Julie's tagline: "He wasn't shocked at the wickedness of the wicked, but rather at the wickedness of the righteous."
-- from Sir Gibbie, by George MacDonald

reminded me of this quote: "With or without religion, you would have good people doing good things and evil people doing evil things. But for good people to do evil things, that takes religion." -- Steven Weinberg

Nothing to do with karma or basketball. Just stream of consciousness. Sorry.

Careful Chuck, I hear an "esteemed member" starting to stream their consciousness on their keyboard again...

I have to disagree with Juulie - the Karma bus travels the country every day, looking for victims to roll over. The route just happened to be in mplagrow's neighborhood that night. It was in my neighborhood the night my partners and I talked about a great game we had the night before, then the one this night turns out 72-22. The only thing you can do is just admit it exists, and accept that sometimes you're the passenger, and sometimes you're the stuff caught in the tire treads.

Sometimes you're the windshield, sometimes you're the bug. . . .that brings to mind an old joke.


Whats the last thing that goes through a bug's mind as it hits the windshield?

Its butt.

OK,immature, but I spend all day with junior high students. You'll have to excuse me.

Sometimes you're the bird, sometimes you're the statue.

Sometimes you're the dog, sometimes you're the hydrant.

Geesh, I work with adults all day; so what's my excuse?

and...."He's got enough religion to hate, but not enough to love."