FIBA is obligedespecially morally to rethink the format of the Intercontinental Cup. Perhaps, give it a few turns of the bell before the embarrassing level of Monastir, a lack of respect for his presence in any high-level sporting event worth its salt. No one, neither in the crowded Santiago Martín pavilion nor outside it, deserved the poor show offered by the Tunisian team, whose level seemed inappropriate for professional basketball. It was not only that its basketball power is infinitely inferior to that of the Lenovo Tenerife. It is that, in addition, his lack of desire forces us to think seriously if FIBA deserves a competition like this. Nobody deserves it.
Nothing good, and look how difficult it is, can be extracted from Monastir’s performance. Lenovo Tenerife, which is also a team that plays basketball wonderfully well, at least for lovers of cheerful and collective basketball, found the dream scenario. Based on triples he began to massacre his rival, forced to call a timeout at 12-5 after a layup from Doornekamp. Far from reacting the African formation collapsed definitively when there was still a world left Greater than the one that separates both teams. Vidorreta’s host began to plug triples (Abromaitis, Cook, Fitipaldo) and, showing off more than he could and with all possible facilities, bursting the game when barely 10 minutes had been played: 25-6.
The worst thing for Monastir was not the beating they were receiving, but the image not of a defeated team, but one that he did not care if baskets of all colors fell on him; mostly, what has been a lack of respect for friends and strangers. A mate from Abromaitis and three free throws from Fitipaldo shaped the a run of 18-0 and a striking score of 30-6, more typical of lower categories, in no way admissible in professional basketball. It was no longer impotence, but reluctance. That’s why, Shermadini did not have the slightest rival opposition to crush and stretch the advantage to +30: 42-12. The Canarias broke half of the 18 triples they tried in the first half, and one by Sergio Rodríguez formalized the surreal 52-16 with which the break was reached.
Far from being covered, Monastir’s embarrassments came to light even more after the break. The wound opened up even more. If Fran Guerra put the +50, 74-24, Salin hit three triples in a row for a crazy 83-27 In the lagoon. Everything was already formal minutes, garbage, an ordeal for the eyes. Actually, they were like that long before, an absolute discomfort for the eyes, a lack of respect for the level and attitude of Monastir for any lover of the wonderful sport of basketball. Tonight he lived the most absolute shame for also, of course, the managers of the competition.
