Don't Fake The Funk

Correction

I didn't quite quit drinkin' and hollerin'.

One-ness

So my older bro's finalizing his acquisition of an apartment in Philadelphia.
And my little brother's moving to Boston in about six hours.
And I'm single.
And basketball season is over for about three weeks.

And now that I quit drinkin' and whorin' and hollerin' and fightin' I ain't got nothin' to do. Heh, I got the makings of a real cheesey-ass country song right here.

Last Game Of The Season

“It’s 7:20, man. Where’s your cousin?”

“I dunno. I’ll call him.” I trotted over to my backpack and pulled out my cell phone. Then I left a semi-nasty message for Chris for not telling the rest of the team that he wasn’t showing up. Earlier in the day, Josh and Renato both called to let me know that they wouldn’t be playing, so I knew we were going to be short, but I didn’t think we were going to have trouble fielding a full squad.

The referees decided to go ahead and start the game even though our team was short a man. But before tip off, the head ref informed both teams that in the unlikely even that we won, the other team could send an appeal to the league and demand a forfeit. In other words, there was no chance in hell we were going to get a ‘W’ for the game. But the four of us decided to run anyway. We had nothing to lose.

The game started off badly. The opposing team got an easy lay up, and then a three-pointer. All of us were pretty much resigned to the prospect of a forfeit and it showed. I don’t really know about the other guys, but I was already hanging my head in disgust.

And then something happened.

I got the ball at the top of the key and I was up against a wide 1-2-2 zone, apparently so they could keep pressure on the ball. So the top guy was right up on my grill like he was trying to kiss me. But behind him I saw daylight – an open lane. And you know what happens when G sees an open lane. He gets all Barkley and shit.

So I stuck my rear end in the defender’s gut, lowered my shoulder and drove right in like a semi with no brakes. Now I don’t know if it’s because I shaved my head but I felt fast. Real fast. And I was. So fast that the defense did not react and I finger-rolled it over the head of their big man.

(Now before I go any further I have to say this. Their “big man” was soft and didn’t really play team defense all that well. This was a fact that I decided to exploit the entire game. And I’m not going to even mention how Orlando ate him up all night. Well maybe I will mention it.)

So our first two points lit a fire under Orlando and he started playing like a demon, or a rebounding god. I don’t have the exact stats but I am sure O out-rebounded everyone else on the other team.

Even though O got fired up, and even though Ben and Ace were hitting from the outside we were still down the whole game, but we were taking it to ‘em, man. We caused turnovers, cleaned up the boards, and we kept it fairly close.

And we never gave up, not like the rest of our sorry-ass team that decided to say, “Fuck it” to the rest of the season.

We were down ten at one point and Ace hits a three. Then I drive and dish to a cutting O for a lay-up. Then Ben hits a jumper. Suddenly we’re within three points and the other team is running scared. They played hard all game, but now they were worried.

In the second half they ran away with it again, up by ten. Ben jacked up a shot and it was way off, but Orlando grabbed the offensive rebound and put it in. Then the other team’s point guard – who, by the way, is a dead ringer for Dilbert except without glasses – tries to drive the lane on me. ON ME. I wasn’t having it. I knocked the ball out of his hands; he gets it back and tries to body me up for a turn-around. HE TRIED TO BODY ME UP, KID. Uh-uh. I kept knocking it out of his hands. Finally he gathers himself enough to put up a shot and the ref blows a whistle.

Three second violation on Dilbert. Boo ya.

At this point all four of us are out of gas. We really have nothing left, but Orlando refuses to let us give up. He gets another offsensive rebound and gives me the ball on the wing and I’m wide open. I release from beyond the arc and call out, “bank!” It hits the glass and goes in. We’re down seven. The ref starts yelling, “He called it! He called ‘bank.’ Give that man four points!” We didn’t really get that extra point, but still, it’s nice to be recognized.

Like I said, though, we had no energy, so with three minutes left we called our last time out. In the huddle I said, “Not much time left, fellas. Let’s leave it all out there on the floor.” We did, but our fatigue got the better of us. The other team, sensing their impending win, decided to start showing off, making the extra, fancy pass. At one point they even tried to get one of their guys to dunk off a rebound. It got me angry, but I couldn’t really do anything about it. I was too tired.

After the game the ref said to me, “Man you can beat me, and beat me by 100 points. But if you’re gonna embarrass me like they embarrassed you with that hot-dogging – I’m just glad you were tired cuz you looked like you were about to throw down.”

We wound up losing 75-68, but we gained the other team’s respect, and our own. I’ve seen Ace and Orlando play hard but tonight they gave one hundred-fifty percent. And I think I did pretty well, too. We may have won a championship last season, and we went .500 this season, but this was the first game we played like a team.

Sometimes you win even when you lose.

What The Heck...?!

Andre Agassi lost in the first round of the French Open?
To an unknown?
In straight sets?

Is Brooke Shields back in his life or something? You know how that woman sapped all of his powers back in the day.

Racism / Secrets

Okay, so I'm Catholic, right? I'm not going to talk about how bad of a Catholic I am, so let's just leave it at "I'm Catholic." Anyway... Thursday was a holy day of obligation which means I had to go to church. So I took my mom, stuffed her in the car with my little brother, and off we went.

We get to church, we do our thing, and we line up for communion. Communion, for you heathens out there, is when we eat a wafer of bread that symbolizes the Body of Christ. As we're walking past a bunch of kids, one of them whispered, "chink chink." I'm like whoa... at church?! Usually when something like this happens, I would take out the Whup-Ass Stick and start beating on those little Tony Soprano hatchlings you find all over Staten Island. But I couldn't exactly curse and get violent while I had Jesus in my mouth.

Wow. That didn't sound exactly right.

--

Two anonymous brothers are in a car driving home from Blockbuster video. We won't reveal their names, but their initials are G and B.

G: Don't tell anyone but I kind of like that Britney song "Everytime."
B: {pause}
G: {nervous silence}
B: Okay, don't tell anyone but I rented "Win A Date With Tad Hamilton."

Famous Bald People

Free prize to whomever can name all of these people in order. But you'll have to match the pictures with these descriptions:

a. Me.
b. Entertainer that has boldly gone where no man has gone before.
c. Entertainer that has performed on SNL and on Broadway.
d. The Golden Child's saviour's sidekick.
e. A basketball player whom I have met.
f. A basketball player whom I have talked to.
g. A mechanic.

--

In other news: Blade Trinity!!! Woo!

The next hot vampire huntress: Jessica Biel. I dunno who I like better, her or Kate Beckingsale. And yes, I know there is no "G" in "Beckinsale".... yet. Muhahahah.

Ahem.

What 80's Toy Are You?

This is what I am:

You're GI Joe with the Kung Fu Grip!! You're
strong, tough, and know how to kick some ass.
Don't forget though, no matter how manly you
think you are, you're still just a doll. God
Bless America.


What childhood toy from the 80s are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Tell me that ain't just the perfect thing for me? Especially since I owned every GI Joe from Snake Eyes to the limited edition Major Bludd that you had to send away for in the mail.

Yo Joe! Who wants a body massage?

Haircut

I shaved my head. In other news, the fire department paid a visit to my block tonight. It turns out that our neighbors across the street were cleaning their oven and it accidentally burst into flames. Now I don't know about you, but I'm wondering why the heck are they cleaning their oven at 11:30 pm on a Sunday night? Haircut update: it's still real short. I'm thinking about bic'ing it clean tomorrow. Here are some reactions to my drastic hairstyle change: "You look like a balloon that needs to be popped." "I dunno if you look like Katsumoto... or the Golden Child." "Nah, you look nothing like Kane from Kung Fu. Well, maybe." "Having lice issues again, are you, G?" "I-i-i-uh-i-i-iiii want a wig. Pleeeeease." "And I thought the afro made you look black."

What The Heck Is He Saying?

Beenie Man. Song called "Dude." I swear he goes:

You wan' a proper fix? Call me.
You wan' a get your kicks? Call me.
You wan' some cheese sticks? Call me.

So if you want some cheese sticks, call Beenie Man. Actually the real last line is "You wan' your G's fixed? Call me." So if you want your homies to get neutered or spayed, call Beenie Man. Apparently he's a veterenarian as well as a dance hall star.

Lolo's Death Anniversary

I don't believe in coincidences. Check this out.

Halfalien invited me to be the guest questioner for the week on his website http://www.halfalien.com/question and today I posed the question "Have you ever had an encounter with the supernatural?" not realizing that today is the third year anniversary of Lolo's (my maternal grandfather) death. Isn't that a little spooky?

Wait there's more. The past few days I've been trying to learn the song "Here Without You" by 3 Doors Down. And today I finally got it. The spooky thing is that the song is about how the singer misses someone that he loves dearly. He's singing about a girl, of course.

But the motivation, the emotion behind the song is the same that I feel for my Lolo today. Weird, huh?

A hundred days had made me older
Since the last time that I saw your pretty face
A thousand lights had made me colder
And I don’t think I can look at this the same
But all the miles that separate
They disappear now when I’m dreaming of your face

Unbelievable!

MEXICO CITY (Reuters) - The Mexican Air Force has released footage of what a UFO expert said were 11 invisible unidentified flying objects picked up by an infrared camera as they whizzed around a surveillance plane.

Can you believe it? Mexico has an air force.
Oh and that whole UFO thing is pretty interesting, too.

Anyway, I don't believe they are aliens. They're humans but from the future. And they're trying to change the future by going to the past and making sure we stop fucking up the planet. But I'm not really sure why they're abducting people from remote areas and not, like, the president or something.

That's what they should do. Abduct the pres and Bin Laden and put 'em on a planet with an invisible monster, a la Star Trek The Original Series. And let them fight it out with the invisible monster by working together and shit.

William Shatner for President!

Question...

At what point does the appreciation of the female form become objectification of women?

Basketball Haiku Redux

I wrote these more than a year ago. To me they capture the purest essence of basketball. The funny thing about these haiku is that all three of these were inspired by my days balling at Carlton Park with Darrell, Patrick, and Sean. Well, except for the last one - we were playing horse in front of Ahmar's house where Sean pulled off a seemingly impossible 360 dunk and I followed it up by matching it. Classic.

Down by two,
Hey man, I'm open!
Pass the ball.
--
Square....release.
Oh yeah you heard it:
I called "bank!"
--
Three-sixty slam...
Man, can I do it too?
Three-sixty slam!!

I swear I gotta be the only crack-head in the universe that writes haiku about basketball. I mean seriously -- I admit I'm nuts but this must take the cake, huh?

I'm Trying Out For Jeopardy!

So I've been selected to audition for the NYC area contestant search for Jeopardy! next month. Wish me luck. Here's an excerpt of a conversation I had with Gus about it this morning:

Gus: I want in. Do you think "Golden Age Hip Hop Lyrics" will be a category?
Me: If it is, I'd be guaranteed a win.
Gus: Excellent.
Me: "Who is UTFO, Alex mah ni*bleep*?!"
Gus: I just signed up.
Me: "What is The Cult Jam, beeyatch?"
Gus: Someone on Okayplayer was on WWTBAM. She won like $16,000.

Please. $16,000? Imma take it all home. I'm guaranteeing a win if these categories are present:

• NBA Superstars of The 90's


• Famous X-Men


• Songs By En Vogue


• Star Wars or Star Trek?


• NBA Superstars of The 70's


• Lines From The Movie "The Princess Bride"

Hombre En El Fuego

Acabo de mirar 'Man On Fire.' Esta película era muy buena. Quise esta película mucho. Se basó en un cuento verdadero. Dakota Fanning habla español muy bien, pero Denzel Washington habla como él es de Spanish Harlem. Mantuve esperando que la Marc Anthony para empezar a cantar, "My Baby You."

I love saying: Hombre En El Fuuuueeeego! I didn't get it though. Why was he on fire?