More Weekend Stories

On Sunday morning, before heading over to the Target Center, the Jilb and I stopped by Starbucks (sorry, Coffee Boy) for some mochas and donuts. The instant our cups were empty, we plowed on ahead to the Old Chicago restaurant for some pre-game pizza.

Of course, over the next few hours, we paid the price by having a mocha-donut-double-decerroni-pizza combo sloshing around our stomachs - but we still managed to have a good time.

at the Old Chicago

The Old Chicago is the type of place that has flat-screen TV's hanging over every booth showing some type of "sporting" event - like bowling or golf or fat, balding men peeking at the corners of playing cards. When we were there, the event happened to be (thank goodness) the NCAA men's basketball tournament.

While the Jilb was glancing up at the games, she noticed something surprising: big name universities have begun (presumably for large donations) renaming themselves after famous celebrities.

Fortunately, she was able to capture one instance of this alarming trend.

Thoroughly disgusted, we made our way quickly to the Target Center and found our seats. A few moments later, a middle-aged couple sat in the seats directly behind us. I could tell that they probably weren't season ticket holders from their ensuing conversation.

Middle-aged woman (watching the court during the pregame shootaround): "Which one is KG?"

Middle-aged man (after a long pause): "Wait, which ones are the Timberwolves?"

Our seats were good, though - right behind the T-Wolves' tunnel, which emerges right behind one of the baskets. So we had a great view of the action, especially at "our" basket. But it was still pretty easy to make out what was going on at the other end of the floor. (For a quick video of KG making a play at the "other" end, click here.)

The only problem with our seats was that we were routinely attacked by the Polaroid blimp.

Seriously, I didn't think they were allowed to fly them that close to fans. After a few hair-raising passes, the Jilb noticed a mustached man who was standing by a railing just a few rows across from us and holding a large remote control.

It was kind of a disappointment. After all, when giant killer black blimps of doom are terrorizing the population, you don't want to see the mustached man controlling them. You kind of want to believe those blimps have a mind of their own.

And finally, here is the last picture, again, taken by the Jilb (she was on a bit of a roll this weekend...)

"Grabbin' your butt? That's not very KG like!"