Gus sets his heart on watching the Bulls' game, but when it's on can't keep still. He's up dribbling, shooting, practicing his head-butting in our fronthall court. I become annoyed. I say, "Gus if you want to watch the game so much, why don't you sit down and watch it? Or if you want to play then maybe we should turn it off?" Oh no oh no that would be awfull. For the Bulls/Hornets game, Gus was very excited to see how the Hornets staged the opening part, when the players are introduced. In Chicago, the arena goes dark, there are light shows and a musical buildup and great cheering for each member of the team building to the climactic moment when Michael Jordan is announced. This is Gus's favorite part of the game, the part he never plays through. For the Hornets' game, the tv station gave their own starting line up presentation, supersceding the Hornets' show. They had head shots and gave specs. All very informative and bland. While through the cracks we could hear the high-drama announcer voice at the arena putting on the show. Gus was devistated. I begin to understand that the game is about something different for Gus than it is for me. For Gus, it's the spectacle, the drama, the event. The flavor of the thing. And why waste all that atmosphere sitting on the couch when he can surround himself with it as he swirls and dribbles and dunks.