Reviewing "The Book of Basketball"

I've just completed Bill Simmons's 700+ page tome, plainly titled The Book of Basketball, and I thought it might be fun to review it.

But let's get something out of the way first. You need to know at the outset that nothing written in this book can be taken seriously in light of a footnote on page 555, in which Simmons lists his "Mount Rushmore" of fast-food restaurants: "Chik-fil-a, Subway, Panda Express, and Arby's. In-N-Out would have made it if their fries didn't suck."

Is he serious? Arby's? Taking the burger slot on Mount Rushmore ahead of In-N-Out? That Arby's? (Michael Bluth might say, "Her?") The place that sells sweaty roast beef sandwiches? The eatery whose signature condiment is named after a "horsey"?

I can't begin to describe how poor a decision this is. This is a restaurant that until very recently would give you five sandwiches for five dollars and be happy to get the five dollars. In-N-Out is an icon; Arby's is an also-ran. If you told me I had two options, with option one being paying $20 to eat a double-double Animal burger from In-N-Out and option two being you paying me $10 to eat any sandwich from Arby's, I would choose option one a hundred times out of a hundred.

Not only is Arby's not better than In-N-Out; it's not even better than McDonald's—which is third among national chains behind Wendy's and Burger King. In fact, Arby's isn't even better than Jack in the Box (a.k.a. "E. Coli in the Box") or Carl's Jr. I'd rather eat at Roy Rogers than at Arby's. I'm incredulous.

To put this in basketball terms, it would be like saying you'd rather have Juwan Howard than Tim Duncan. Worse: this would be like making an all-time starting five and choosing Shawn Bradley as your center. Arby's is a one-tool player, only the one tool is winning jump balls (curly fries). Sure, that's great, no one's arguing your'e the best at that, but you're not winning games that way. In-N-Out could never win a jump ball (their fries are marginally disappointing), but they're scoring 45 a game in the playoffs.

Actually, you know what? I'm not even going to review the rest of the book, which I enjoyed, because that footnote was so disconcerting.

That's more like it

"It was a dud, plain and simple. Better luck next time, assuming there is a next time."

—Me, in my concert review after seeing Phish at Darien Lake in August.

Well, there was a next time, and the luck was most definitely better. I saw Phish again on November 29, and it was possibly the best show I've ever been to. This one was in Syracuse at the War Memorial at Oncenter, a minor league hockey rink with only 6,700 seats. It was by by far the smallest venue I've ever seen Phish in, and the intensity was off the charts. The band was super tight, the light show (aided by the small room with a shiny roof) was superb, and the setlist was relentless. Phish's "From the Road" entry has the setlist and several photos.

My main criticism after the Darien show was that the mix was terrible: Trey's guitar was piercingly loud, the drums were inconsistently present, and the keys were either EQed poorly or lacking altogether. The mix in Syracuse was spot-on. I could hear everything really well, and even when Trey stacked his overdrives and hit his wah, it was just loud—not painful. As a bonus, Page was using the Hammond a TON, which gave it a very Rift-era feel.

My other problem in August was that the band never seemed to get into a groove, and again, the Syracuse show was the polar opposite. The first set in particular seemed to go on forever, like they were having so much fun that they didn't want to stop. And they stayed tight right up until the very end, when they came out and kicked Zeppelin's "Good Times Bad Times" right in the teeth. All in all, a great night—the most fun I've had in ages.

Here's to a nice long run with Phish 3.0!