horizon_greene: Robert Smith singing (leandro gets a handful)
I've become half-flustered over Boris Diaw again, all of a sudden, for no real reason other than I watched a few minutes of the Western Conference Finals last weekend while having dinner at the bar at Charleston's. I was overcome with weird and slightly unwelcome nostalgia, remembering those halcyon days of the Phoenix Suns' 05-06 season, when we had that magnificent, over-achieving team and a certain wide-eyed French player who (however inexplicably) was enthralled with our All-Star forward and made no effort to hide it.

In the ensuing days, I fired up my college-era laptop, transferred all my old fic to my current machine, and have been slowly filtering through it all ever since. It's more than 50 docs, an at-times facepalm-worthy adventure.

It's been trippy revisiting that unfinished Shawn Marion/Boris Diaw saga—I wrote those bits and pieces so long ago that it's almost like reading someone else's story at this point. Except no one else was drinking that particular kool-aid back in the day, let's be real.

But still. #neverforget



Arizona <3

Nov. 9th, 2009 09:57 pm
horizon_greene: Robert Smith singing (diaw & marion)
I had a dream the other night that I seduced Shawn Marion. The following night, I dreamed that Boris Diaw bought me fries at McDonald's. And really...I would prefer that it had been the other way around.

I'm not sure what brought on these dreams suddenly. They've both been gone for a long time. Maybe it's because I'm growing to like these new Suns, despite myself and my initial reservations. The roster looked ghastly at the start of the season, but they're playing fast and hard, the role players have been effective, and Steve looks like an MVP again. Nothing will ever compare to Boris and Shawn and how much I loved the 05-06 Suns, but I don't hate this current team (I like them!) and that's an enormous improvement over last year.

---

The Cardinals were glorious on Sunday, but it's been overshadowed locally by Anquan Boldin and his simmering rage over being held out of the game by the coaching staff. He spent the entire time shadowed beneath the hood of his sweatshirt, glowering and angry and actually looking quite amazing, in his own way, but he was clearly infuriated by the situation. Or maybe he was just mad because while he was standing on the sideline in his sweats, Larry was on the field doing this with someone else. )
horizon_greene: Robert Smith singing (locker room)
Photobucket

But then I saw this picture. I'd never seen it before, and it reminded me. So I wrote a little bit about Boris tonight—just working on some old thing that I hadn't touched in two years, but that I really think I should finish. It's not as horrible as I remembered—it needs some major revision, for sure, and my characterization of Boris as a vapid, weepy slut seems, in retrospect, like it should probably be tweaked. Quite a lot. But it has potential, and it was sort of nice to wander back in time to that old storyline. (Even though I really ought to be working on Roger/Rafa for the TMC. Oops.)

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