Basketball and a little chaos.

This weekend and next, Sand Point will be on parade and Fisherman and I will be "on duty" and working ourselves to the bone. {{sigh}}.

This Weekend:
This will be the final boys basketball games of the season.  They have had a less than stellar record and players that did everything they could to play, are now not even coming to school.  The students here have a somewhat distorted perception - each thinking they are the next NBA superstar.  Don't get me wrong there are players that have potential and with some SEVERE conditioning and "coachin' up" they could be a strong team.  Undoubtedly they provide THE entertainment for the folks around here.  Their record:

		Result
		81 - 58Loss
		62 - 44Loss
		84 - 67Loss
		68 - 51Loss
		80 - 69Win
		61 - 53Win
		71 - 44Win
		65 - 40Win
		96 - 61Loss (mercy ruled)
		64 - 61Loss
		74 - 59Loss
		72 - 29Win
		60 - 41Win
		69 - 36Win
		65 - 19Win
		60 - 50Win
		62 - 47Win
		94 - 46Loss (mercy ruled)

Lately, the team has been circulating a petition around the town and it has 300+ signatures.  The petition is asking that despite their record they be allowed to travel to the regional tournament at a cost of $20,000.  The final word comes from our superintendent -  that final word has been "no".  Needless to say, it has been a little "tense" around here.

So this weekend, as they play their final games, there is definetly a "buzz" happening within the school.

Next Weekend:
Sand Point School will play host to the Southwest Region Girls Basketball tournament.  Schools of similar size will fly in next Wednesday and be whittled down to a region champion that will compete in the state tournament.  Since Sand Point is the host of the tournament, our girls team gets an automatic seed into the tournament play.

Hosting a tournament will take literally EVERYONE to pull off.  Our gigantic high school staff will be maxed out.  I look forward to a little change in the routine, but am not looking forward to the exhaustion and the rancor that will need to be managed from all the visitors and the invariable disputed calls.

Armed with my whistle,

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