Saw Nuggets coach George Karl the other night. Actually, I only saw his backside. All night, play after play after play: stared at George's glutes.
My buddy gave my wife and me two "fantastic" courtside seats to Game 3 of the Nuggets-Lakers series. "And you're right next to the Nuggets bench!" he glowed. Which was exactly the problem. My seat was two seats off the Nuggets bench, at what used to be the press table before the Nuggets sold the area to paying customers. But my seat also happened to be exactly behind where Karl leans against the table and watches the ENTIRE game. He had hip replacement surgery, so he likes to stand. And stand. Not move. Not walk. Not pace. Not kneel. Stand. And the man is not small. He is the approximate size of a drive-thru Starbucks. Honestly, I saw about a third of the game. I spent the other two third trying to crane my neck around George's derriere to see.
Me: "What was that?!?"
Wife: "Oh, wow! That was amazing!"
Me: "What was it, though? What happened?"
Wife: "The big guy threw it behind his back to the other big guy and he put it in the basket, really, really hard!"
Later, my buddy asked me what I thought of the seat.
"Looked like about a 42 to me," I said.