I was the second Finn in NBA. I played for Atlanta Hawks and so did Hanno Möttölä, the first Finnish ever to make it in NBA (and for real). Our team was very pathetic on a paper but we had very good team spirit and the coach believed we could make a good team in a year or two. At the moment we lacked a tall center but it didn't cause any problem with defense. Too true, in the offense it reduced our options but it also enabled us to keep good pace in a game.

This time we played against another lousy team who had one superstar but I virtually outdefensed him. In the first half he did only 12 points which is not a good scoreline for him. But we were still behind because our offense sucked big time. At the end of the first half it was me who had to take shots - me, who wasn't a pointscorer at all. But I didn't do bad: Just before the whistle I faked the defense, dribbled into the box and made a difficult shot but it scored my first two points in NBA. How brilliant that felt!

For the first half my stats were as follows:
points - rebounds - passes
    2               6              4
I was particularly proud of the amount of rebounds because I'm only 181cm tall. It was pure will to take that much rebounds.

When the second half started there was some hassle with some not-so-good friends and they kept us from going into the hall. They were really enthuastic about the game and happy how everything were turned out. They wanted to share our success right now but me and my friend who played for Atlanta too explained ourselves out of it and told them to see us later. But we entered the hall just bit late so that I heard only the coach saying: "Well, if Pekka is not coming then Gianala will take his place." Of course I was disappointed, especially because there would have been time for me to join the squad but the decision was already made. I didn't protest and I gave Gianala, who is also a Finn and an old friend of mine from the same basketball team of our youth, thumbs up. I thought he would do good.

But he didn't. Or to be more precise, it was the whole team that sucked. After the first half we were only some 5 points behind but now it was more than 12. I got a call from the coach: Back to business!


Very disappointing, I woke up at this point when I was supposed to rule the game and I dreamed there would have been post-game gangbang sex-session! Damn!
Lianna Slug Orientation

  • I arrive with my mom at a building that looks like a two-story mall but is actually supposed to be the food court of UC Santa Cruz. We enter through a sweep of glass doors and stand in the middle of a large, covered plaza surrounded by various restaurants and eaterys. I'm here to attend a small orientation meeting for the start of a new school year here at UCSC. We'd planned to eat lunch when we arrived but as my mom ponders on which place to eat at, I take in the empty dining areas and figure everything's closed. I tell my mom this just as a cleaning lady rolls up with her cart of cleaning supplies. My mom asks her when the restaurants will open and the lady (of possible Latino heritage) mumbles something about how she has to go do her meditation. Deciding to postpone the meal until later, we go upstairs to the mezzanine where the meeting is taking place. There I sit down with about eight other students and a student-advisor around a table which is actually a large flat redwood stump. I'm sitting to the left of the advisor and to her right is my old friend, Lianna, who I haven't seen in some time. They have their backs to the railing which overlooks the ground floor of the building. My mom is wandering around nearby. I don't actually speak to Lianna but we communicate with our eyes--I expressing my surprise and delight that she will be joining the Banana Slugs of UCSC. The advisor talks while we're waiting for the actual meeting time to arrive and it becomes obvious that this is an information session for new student transfers like Lianna, not for returning students like me. On a whim I roughly rub my scalp with my hands and out of my hair tumbles some grass, two cigarette butts and one rose petal. Lianna excuses herself to go the restroom and the rest of the group mills around. I tell the advisor that I won't be attending the meeting after all. When Lianna returns she briefly exclaims that she's lost her backpack but it turns out to be sitting in a cubby hole nearby (which I point to). The fear in her voice makes me think she's carrying some kind of contraband like marijuana. I find out that the plan is for the group to eat lunch afterwards so I say I'll come back to eat with them--I say this while looking at Lianna so she knows I'm really coming back to talk to her. I say goodbye as the meeting begins--and I never spoke a word to Lianna.

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