Ray Ratto

David Boren? It's me, Larry Scott


David Boren? It's me, Larry Scott

Weve waited long enough for Larry Scott to amuse us again with one of his clever circumnavigations of the flat states. The football season hasnt really hit its stride yet, and we demand entertainment.

In short, its time for another call to David Boren, the president of the University of Oklahoma.

Hey Dave? Its me. Larry.

Unless youre calling because you forgot your watch at the last meeting, I dont have the time for this.

No, no, listen. Youll like this. My biggest game this weekend isnt until 9:30 your time, and your boys are playing Ball State. Lets have some fun.

Your kind of fun made me look like an idiot.

Thats just those nitwit sportswriters. They still dont know what happened. And I think its time to give them another tweak.


You fly to Denver. I meet you there. If were caught, I say I came to watch Washington State-Colorado. You say youre scouting out Colorado State for the Big 12.

Yeah, and why do we meet in Denver?

To get them to write that youre still pissed at Texas and were still willing to have you.

But you dont want us without Texas. You told me that.

And I meant it. But are you still pissed at Texas?

Of course. Everyones pissed at Texas all the time. Its their sheer Texasness.

So lets give em a little more back. We let ourselves be seen, and let everyone draw their own wild-assed conclusions.

To what end?

For snicks and giggles, you mirthless . . . sorry, my apologies. Lets do it because we can. Because you have a free weekend and so do I. because watching DeLoss Dodds eat his own liver is so damned much fun.

But what about the five-year deal we just agreed to? What about our word? What about our integrity?

Please. And stop. And those three things put together are less valuable than one good plate of barbecue.

Well, yeah.

Okay. So lets do this. We dont have to shake hands or anything, unless there are cameras staking us out. No agreements, no side deals. Just fun.

Just fun?

Just fun. For at least a year.

Okay, Im up for that. I got a couple of people at the Daily Oklahoman who look like theyre about to snap anyway. It would be a hoot to watch them fly around the air like a deflating balloon.

Thats the spirit. And if you actually do want to talk about . . .


Sorry. But you cant blame a girl for trying.

I know. I know. But in all frankness, Larry, you make a damned poor girl.

Ray Ratto is a columnist for CSNBayArea.com

Celtics are the rivals Warriors fans need

Celtics are the rivals Warriors fans need

You don’t think you needed this game to go this way, but you did, and you do.

The Golden State Warriors spat out a 17-point lead and lost, 92-88, in Boston Thursday night, in a game that was taut if not particularly elegant, and in a game that elevated the Celtics to a place that makes them the new heir apparent to the heir apparent.

The Celtics have been a difficult out for the Warriors during the Brad Stevens Era, losing six of nine but only being blown out twice, and Thursday was not one of those nights. The box score will tell you the shooting and rebounding problems, but the Warriors had that lead and didn’t hold it. Or, to be accurate, the Celtics had that deficit and refused to let it destroy them.

Which is exactly the kind of team you, the fully licensed Warrior fan, want to watch play your team in the NBA Finals. You want to see them genuinely challenged, forced to win outside their comfort zone, induced to show their greatness in the highest of high leverage situations.

At least we think that’s what you want. Maybe you prefer blowouts so you can drink and go to the bathroom without care or fear. After all, the Warriors have taught the area the true meaning of front-running by being in front so often.

But the Celtics play a level of defense typically reserved for the San Antonio Spurs, and yes, the Warriors. They have a spiky exoskeleton that the acquisition of Kyrie Irving has actually enhanced, and Jaylen Brown and Jayson Tatum give them a gifted precocity that fits well with veterans like Al Horford and Marcus Morris, and Boston’s overall youth (they are fifth youngest, while Golden State is third-oldest) ought to make them a more difficult conundrum than Cleveland or any other team in either conference.

They are not yet the superior team; that remains to be proven, and betting against the Warriors requires a level of irrational bravery left only for the truly self-destructive.

But they are, as we sit this evening, the team the Warriors will have to work hardest to finish, because on a night when they had the chance to do so, they didn’t. In other words, the fight for a third ring still goes through Oakland, but it looks more and more like a one-stop through Boston.

And as much as you may hate thinking about it, you’ll almost certainly remember, and savor, a Celtics-Warriors final more than another round of Cavs-on-the-half-shell.

Three reasons Draymond Green is the perfect college professor


Three reasons Draymond Green is the perfect college professor

Programming note: Warriors-Celtics coverage starts today at 4 p.m. on NBC Sports Bay Area and streaming live right here 

Draymond Green spoke to a group of students at Harvard Thursday on the subject of leadership, and if you find that incongruous, shame on you.
I mean, who else would you want as a college professor?
Green has led, and been led. He has learned, and he has taught. He has certainly lectured, as any teammate, official and media member will testify. He’d be a hell of a teacher, and the subject almost doesn’t matter.
For one, homework would be different, as in I’d bet there would be no written work. I don’t see Prof. Day-Day poring over essays about the Industrial Revolution, M-theory or pre-Raphaelite art. Not even the history of Basketball-Reference.com.

For two, having tenured faculty audit his classes may find his choice of rhetoric a little strident, as in “What the ---- were you thinking, dude?” is not typically approved instructional methodology.
And three, nobody would get a grade. Green would mark every exam with a “35,” as in his draft position, and besides, the exams would be students arguing with each other over whether that was a foul or a no-call, and who pulled the better face when the call was made. He’d give either an approving nod or give the loser a second technical foul and kick him or her out of class.
But it would be a hell of a class. Not at Harvard, of course, because Green probably would want to teach a school that could better use his brand of wisdom, and Harvard kids already have a healthy lead off third base. He’d want his students to make Harvard students cry, you can just tell.
But wouldn’t he look perfectly Draymond in a cap and gown on graduation day, pulling a bottle out of his sleeve to make the valedictory speeches less painful. “Damn, dude,” you could hear him yell. “Peaking?”