So I decided that I'd give up for the day to go play basketball and work out my stress. I got out the foot pump and began to inflate my basketball, only to have the needle break off inside it. At least the Super Tool worked well enough to extract it. I'm heading down to the JCC now to play, hoping that my other basketball will be there, the one someone walked off with weeks ago and which then turned up at the Sports and Fitness Desk, only to disappear every time I asked for it. Needless to say, I'm feeling more than a little frustrated.
On the other hand, after numerous abortive trips to various stores in search of basketball shoes to replace the ones that inexplicably disappeared last month -- do people steal year-old shoes? -- in which I again and again found myself hating the poor construction and high prices of shoes whose labeled size bears no relation to any sizes I've encountered in my lifetime, I did finally manage to find a pair that fits me reasonably well without being hideous or $120. Sadly, I had to go to the Nike outlet at Foothills Mall in order to buy them, though, because every other option failed to pan out. At least the assholes up in Beaverton didn't get full price from me. Well, it's time to figure out whether three weeks without meaningful competition have rendered my always problematic outside shooting an unmitigated disaster. Maybe I'll just set some brutal blind-side picks to ease the pain.