A few things you should know about Mr. Chad Finn, who pulled our 200,000th made foul shot from the net at a little before 11 p.m. tonight:
- He used to absolutely eat me alive in our lunchtime 2-on-2 games at Rolfe Park in Penacook.
- He commutes close to an hour and a half each way to work for one of the greatest newspapers in America.
- He named his cat Otis, as in Nixon.
- He is one funny dude.
- He’s a lot more prone to man-hugs than he used to be.
- Nobody makes brilliant sports writing seem easier than he does.
If you’re a sports fan, and particularly if you’re a fan of Boston sports, do me a favor: Bookmark this link, and at some point in the near future when you’ve got a few minutes, get in there and do some exploring. Not that Chad needs my endorsement or the few readers I might send his way. His following is enormous, and his writing — both stylistically and (here’s the important part) substantively — is so close to perfect that to read it just about makes my eyes bleed.
We get together a couple times a year, usually with a group of old Concord Monitor fellas. It’s not enough, so I was thrilled a couple weeks ago when Chad was in touch (after returning from three weeks in Vancouver covering the Winter Olympics, by the way) to say he was interested in coming to rebound. A household full of sick Finns caused us to miss the first date, which turned out to be perfect, because a week after that turned out to line up nicely with our 20 percent plateau … assuming we were good for 2,393 tonight.
And we were. Chad said he was willing to work a little overtime, and though it wasn’t the best night of shooting ever, it wasn’t too bad, either, and in just under two-and-a-half hours we had dropped in our quota, the last 1o of which can be found here …
… bringing our overall total to 200,000 down, 800,000 to go to 1 million made foul shots. And I even got a man-hug on the way out, from one of most talented wordsmiths I know.