This has been your Mark Jackson/Ian Eagle Gum Chewing Contest Follow-Up Video update.
I have a girlfriend. I’ve had a girlfriend for five years and she’s really great. That’s the first time I’ve heard about that. I never heard about that and I’m really surprised. I think it’s not really true. I need to look on the internet and make sure. What can I say? I have a girlfriend; I’m not married but I’m living with my girlfriend. I don’t know if that’s true. I’m going to ask Ian Eagle about that; maybe he just made up that story.
This has been your Nenad as Serbia's 3rd Most Eligible Bachelor update.
"We were on the wrong side of the Hudson," Kidd lamented to a few New York writers late Monday night in an empty Maverick locker room after he torched the Knicks again.
This has been your Jason Kidd Really Needs to Shut the Fuck Up update.
One further note- I recently noticed that even for away games, League Pass was showing the YES Network's broadcasts for Nets games. I'm about 90% certain League Pass usually shows the home team's broadcast for any given game. Can anyone give me any input on that? Because I wrote into the NBA's Fan Center thing or whatever, where members can submit questions about whatever, and asked them about it. And I got no response. But then I got the fucking Houston broadcast the other night. It seemed pretty coincidental, but who knows. I'm just curious if anyone out there knows how the whole League Pass/local broadcast deal is set up. Click that little "Contact" button on the top right of the page and holler at a Becky if you have any insight for me.
Continuing the analogy from the previous post, last night's game against the Rockets = the Nets getting completely shitfaced and going home with some scumbag frat boy who pops his collar and uses the word "wicked" as a modifier in every other sentence. Also, he has a girlfriend, and probably some sort of venereal disease.
Checking in on the NBA Girlfriend Forum, as I sometimes do (inexplicably, K-Mart's page is always hopping, and occasionally informative), I noticed that Devin's page is riddled with messages about how sad all the fans in Dallas are that he's gone. No one has anything bad to say about him, and if you check out some of the other pages, which I am not in any way recommending, you'll see that is not the norm on these things...eek. Anyway, although the honeymoon period ended after, ohhhhh, one game, I still feel pretty good about the Devin Harris era in NJ.
However, I did come across this picture:
Is that...why, yes, I do believe it is an apple martini. What's up with that, Dev? Holler at me, I'll get you some scotch or something, get you into some manly drinking.
(I'm joking, I judge no one by their drink choices. I drink vodka and Diet Coke for chrissakes. My dad has been known to drink cosmos. He's been openly mocked for that by no less than a rabbi.)
As for the title of the post, getting that song stuck in your head for literally days at a time is a prime example of why you should never just plug your ipod into someone else's computer and transfer all the songs they have on there. (Also, Aaron Carter. My sister thinks he rocks hard, yo.) Anyway, in an effort to pass along the misery, I went looking for a music video and all I could find was this kid busting a move, and OMG HE IS DANCING ON THE WALL!!!!
OK, not really. Whatevs.
A couple good links from last week-
MCB breaks down the good fortunes of the Nets in recent memory. Key words there being "recent memory" of course. Also, selective memory. Because for each occurrence of "good" luck they've had, I can think of at least 1 instance of "questionable" to "bad" luck. And some of those examples of good fortune could easily be spun the other way (see: Mourning, Alonzo). But hey, I'm a cynic. I appreciate our friend's optimism, for sure.
Empty the Bench broke down the current state of the Nets in a manner that can only be described as "comprehensive." Pretty excellent stuff. Although, read the following and guess who it's about:
[His] game is pretty easy to figure out: shoot, shoot, and shoot some more, and when that fails go the hole, flail around, and hope to get the foul call.
Vince, right? That's how I always describe Vince.
But nope. That's describing RJ. Is RJ starting to mimic Vince's game in frustration? He got T'd up last night, showing how truly frustrated he is becoming. But I sincerely hope this trend doesn't continue. I disagree with ETB on the need to trade RJ. I think his game and his drive are valuable, and I think getting rid of Vince (who he openly dislikes playing with) would rejuvenate the enthusiastic and hard-driving game we know RJ can play.
Anyway, it's not a secret that Vince needs to go. It's unfortunate that he was signed to such a ridiculous and unmoveable contract because he's a good guy. I appreciate the effort of NJN management to keep the "good off-the-court character guys" around, but you should never let that compromise your on-the-court product. I can't shake the feeling that's sort of what happened here.
Speaking of Vince's good "off-the-court" ways...well, say what you want about him and the way he left Toronto, but that organization was fucked up when he left it. There was blame to go to both sides. And he's never trash talked the city or the organization since he left. You can't say the same about Kidd. Hopefully he's finally done running his mouth after that round of interviews, but I guess he'll always be full of shit. Too bad.
If the Nets were a jilted ex-girlfriend, and Jason Kidd were the jilter, then tonight's game in Dallas was the party of the mutual friend where the former lovers were to be forced to share a social setting for an evening. Here's how it went:
In the days leading up to tonight, she reassured everyone that it was absolutely fine, she was absolutely fine.... Because they're both adults, right? And there's no reason two mature adults can't be in the same room. You know, even though he did break her heart dumping her for that skank. But whatever. It'll be totally cool, no need to worry. Even if he is being all passive aggressive and acting like a cockbag talking about things that are clearly not based in reality with their mutual friends. But whatever. It'll be fine.
She showed up looking hot. I mean, like, smoking hot. She pulled out all the stops with tonight's outfit and she knows she's looking fine. Not that she wanted him to miss her or anything...she's totally fine without him. She just wanted him to remember what it was he lost. That's all. She's totally fine.
She pretended for the first hour or so to not notice him across the bar, while she surreptitiously (or not-so-surreptitiously, if you ask anyone else) scoped out his new chick. She reassured herself that New Girlfriend is soooooooooo not even that cute. Her friends did their part too- "You are so much cuter than she is." Oh, are they here? She hadn't even noticed! Whatever. Where the hell is the bartender?
The bottom fell out really quickly as she lost her composure by the end of her second drink. She started to visibly unravel. Her friends tried in vain to reassure her- "He's only acting like he's happy with her...but even if he is right now, that's not going to last....he was so much better with you. He totally knows that, he just hasn't...realized it yet. And you are SO much cuter than her!"
And you know how things like botched dunks and airballed free throws tend to pile up, sort of like Long Island iced teas will do? Well, she lost count of how many of those she drank by the halfway point of her evening.
And 3/4 of the way through the night, she was crying in the ladies room. Of course.
She spent the last hour or so of her night gearing up to walk past her ex and his new lady friend...in her head, she was going to be so cool about it. She was going to be an ice cube. It was pretty clear to everyone in the immediate vicinity though that this was an impossibility, what with the mascara smeared down her face and the distinctive odor of tequila about her. But gosh darn it, no one had the heart to tell her, since she spent a freaking hour mustering up the courage to, you know, walk past someone.
At the end of the night she, in her head, walked proudly and sexily past her ex and his girl and out the door. In reality, she stumbled unsteadily into the door. The new girlfriend was completely unable to hide her smug smile. No one could blame her.
She only made it a block or so before having to stop and puke on the sidewalk. A couple homeless guys openly mocked her.
She very nearly made it home without further incident until she decided she had to stop at the pizza place across the street from her apartment, because fuck her diet, that's why.... After all, she's fat and disgusting and no one's ever going to want to see her naked again anyway, so who even cares? She wolfed down the pizza before she even made it through her front door. She then promptly passed out fully clothed and reeking slightly of vomit on top of her bed, hanging halfway off of it with her head near a trash can. . . . . . . . Ahhhh...yeah, so I guess it's a bit of a rebuild for these Nets....
HT on the picture of "Vince in drag" to Arsenalist...I have no idea where they got it or the context in which it was taken, but it is awesome.
Actually, that's a lie, I feel like utter crap, since I've been deathly ill for the past few days. But, like, emotionally and stuff!
This post brought to you by Pimpin' Nenad
Yes, the Devin Harris era has gotten off on the right foot. Granted, it was only one game, and it was a game against the Milwaukee Bucks, who pretty much suck ass. But let's call it a step in the right direction, with plenty of room for improvement. You could just see, there was an immediate change when Harris came into the game. He busted his ass, and looked like he'd been waiting to show NJ what he could do since the trade went down. Or almost went down, the first time. Anyway, Devin Harris (they were trying to come up with a better nickname for him on the postgame show than "The Blur," which is fair...I haven't come up with a good one yet though) is fast as all hell (hence, "The Blur,") and plays very solid defense, which I expect to turn into "great" defense once he's got his sea legs back. It goes without saying, his shooting is much better than JKidd's. He obviously doesn't have the same "court sense" that Kidd does, but nobody does. But he's obviously smart, can spot mismatches, and gets everyone sharing the ball and moving pretty quickly. Things were moving so fast between him and RJ and Swift and Diop and Nenad and Boki and....well, everyone, that I hardly noticed Vince tonight, doing either good things, or annoying Vince things. The bottom line is, Harris had every excuse to play shakily...he should be rusty, he should need time to get used to playing w/ these guys, he should be nervous...but he straight up brought it tonight. He played hard, he played well, and he made no real stupid mistakes. I am 100% on the Devin Harris bandwagon, and I think the rest of Nets Nation (all...4 of us?) is aboard as well.
Also, have we seen the #34 since Aaron Williams left town? I'm not entirely certain, in my cold medication induced haze, but I do not think we have. Shout out to the A-Train, who was always a favorite of mine. Hopefully he's doing well on the Clippers. I haven't seen him play at all, but then I haven't watched the Clippers much this season. There's a reason for that- they suck.
Marcus Williams playing his ass off is another development I'm enjoying immensely. He kicked it off right after the trade, when Harris was still sitting out, but this is the first I've had to coherently watch a game and comment on it. I'm a little loopy tonight, but 2 nights ago I was ridiculously out of it. Anyway, I imagine Marcus imagines some sort of gauntlet has been thrown, what with a fresh new franchise point guard thrown into his world, and he wants to prove his worth. So far, it's working in a big way and I see no reason why he can't either split time w/ Devin or share the floor with him, as a fill-in 2, giving Vince more time to wash the sand out of his vajayjay.
I've babbled about this for long enough, but suffice to say I called my mom at halftime and just yelled into the phone, "I LIKE THEM AGAIN!!!"
A couple other notes from my (somewhat surprisingly) enjoyable viewing experience:
At some point in the first half, Ian Eagle, as is his wont, was sharing random bits of trivia for which he must have scoured the internet right before the game. And while I had read this before, I had forgotten, since it was awhile ago, I think...he mentioned that Nenad was listed as the #3 most eligible bachelor in Serbia's version of People Magazine. A cursory Google search turned up that it had, in fact, been around the internet back in '06, but since I used an English-speaking search engine, and, you know, speak English, I was unable to find this Serbian People with the original list and what I had been searching for, the #1 and #2 Serbian bachelors. As I was frantically (or not so frantically) Googling, MCBias sent me the YouTube of the mention to prove it to y'all:
Then I found who was supposedly the #1 Serbian bachelor in '06: Uhhhh, no thank you. I'll stick with the Nenad. Even if he is, I am relatively certain, presently attached.
If I had time to write a second blog, as opposed to barely having time to keep up with this blog, I would start a new blog and I would entitle it Meaningful Minutes With Trenton Hassell. I would then use it as a forum to write about the most ridiculous and inane things I could possibly think up. Somewhere in there would be a post about Jake Voskuhl playing meaningful minutes with an NBA team.
Thanks again to the wonderful trivia machine that is Ian Eagle, I now know that Mo Williams before every game listens to "In the Air Tonight" by Phil Collins to pump himself up. Also, thanks to my keen powers of observation, I now know that with his chin strap beard, green headband and red & green uniform, Mo Williams resembles one of Santa's elves uncannily.
I additionally learned that Mark Jackson is a big A-Rod fan. I am withholding judgment on Mark because I hear he loves everyone. Except Vince, of course. Not even Vince's wife loves him. Mark and Ian have a weirder relationship than Mark and Marv do, by the way. They have a weird dynamic, like they've been smoking the wacky tobacky together in the media parking lot pregame. They talk about bowling, a lot. And they took a minute during game break to see who could shove more pieces of Juicy Fruit into their mouths at once, taking the promotion of the sponsorship a little too far. Hilarious, albeit a little bit disturbing.
And finally, after the Nets game, I flipped over to TNT and watched Kidd and the Mavs lose to the Spurs. And I have to say, I don't see how that game would have gone any differently with or without JKidd. Why trade for one of the best point guards in the league if you're not going to let him run the offense when the game's on the line? If you wanted poorly thought out jump shots to lose games on, why not just trade for Vince?
This post brought to you by the new banner over at Nets Daily, because God help me, I do love it so....
Let's get this out of the way first, because for some reason, it killed me:
It is time to break my code of silence. As everyone knows (or perhaps many people assumed), the Jason Kidd to Dallas trade is, as of today, February 19, 2008, official. Now that things are a done deal, it's time I sorted through my feelings on the matter, via this blog post. I wasn't ready to delve into things until things were really really real. As I've mentioned, I'm not one to speculate, especially when it comes to trades. Only once things are signed, sealed and delivered will I feel comfortable espousing on the matter. I take the same mindset into analyzing my love life. However, in my love life, that makes me "cynical." In this particular instance it makes me "safe from having to opine on the merits of Devean George." Works for me.
When I first heard of the deal, it was imparted to me via text message as "Devin Harris and spare parts." I was midway through a liquid lunch on an empty stomach and a particularly nasty day, weather-wise. So reaction-wise I went with, "Are you kidding me?" There may have been an expletive in there somewhere. I'm not entirely certain. But then I got back to the office, drank a bunch of water, and started reading up. And let me tell you, first round draft picks change everything. I immediately started talking myself into Devin Harris. Halfway through that process, I called my mom and broke the news. She seemed as if she'd been resigned to seeing Kidd go since his trade demand. Really, I think we both were. I think we all were. Any fans who thought picking up Stromile Swift was going to change Kidd's mind, or change his feelings were completely kidding themselves. In fact, anyone who thought Kidd really had a migraine back in December was probably kidding themselves too. Let's be real here- it would all just be a little too coincidental, yeah?
So then, this is how it ends. And I find myself not in a state of panic, nor of depression. Not anger or bitterness. Just right to that stage of acceptance. Jason Kidd was beginning to be something of an emotional roller coaster. He showed he was not about The New Jersey Nets, but about Jason Kidd. And that's OK. It is not my place, nor the place of any Nets fan to begrudge Kidd his shot at a championship. Because I think we always knew it would be this way. Maybe because of the circumstances of his prior exit from Dallas, or of his exit from Phoenix, maybe because we saw his willingness to pout, be it understandably, when he didn't get his way firsthand when the Great K-Mart Debacle took place, or perhaps because of something else, Kidd's stay in the Swamp never felt permanent. I have owned many Nets replica jerseys over the years. (Some have been pret-ty embarrassing indeed...Shawn Bradley? Ed O'Bannon? Check, and check.). I have never bought, borrowed or desired a jersey with the #5 on the back. Jason Kidd saved this team. Jason Kidd carried this team. Jason Kidd led this team. But Jason Kidd never was this team.
So a fond farewell to you, Mr. Kidd. We thank and appreciate you for everything you did for this franchise. You rescued us from futility, from irrelevance, from being a laughingstock, and from Stephon Marbury. No one else could have done this, and we know this. So thank you. And I sincerely hope you get that championship ring, and that it finally makes you a happy man, who is less prone to throw baked goods.
While I'm doling out goodbyes, best wishes to Antoine Wright and Malik Allen. Wright busted his ass to be a player capable of contributing, and it showed, particularly on the defensive end. I still believe he can be a solid player somewhere. Maybe Dallas. Maybe not. But good luck to him. And Allen was the coolest pro athlete I've ever had the occasion to meet in person. Just a normal, friendly and funny guy. Also busted his ass on the court every night. I hope he can find a solid spot in a rotation before he gets too old. (I mean he is like...30.)
Now how about those new additions? I've fully talked myself into Devin Harris. He's young. He's long. He's fast. He plays great defense. And he's got a very decent shot. He's not a "game manager" like Kidd was; he never will be. But weren't Kidd's major talents being pretty much wasted by letting stupid Vince control the ball so often anyway? (Yes.) Potentially we're looking at increased production on offense. It's a stretch, yes. The things Kidd did to create shots for his teammates are immeasurable and irreplaceable. But Harris is one of the best young guards in the league, and getting better. He's 24. That's younger than me, for chrissakes. I think there is a lot of potential for him and RJ to make a very good team. And Vince will still do what Vince always does, regardless of who his point guard is, clearly. Add in the good young bigs, all 24-years-old and under, already on the roster - Boone and Sean Williams and Nenad, who is looking more and more like his old self - and you have a good young core (...and Vince). These guys can grow together. There are solid bench guys like Boki (if he doesn't get traded for Mike Miller...which, if it happens, we can talk about then, of course) and Marcus. One does have to wonder what bringing in a young point guard like Harris will do to Marcus Williams' somewhat sensitive self esteem...but I have high hopes (gee, what else is new) that he'll take it as a challenge and work himself into contending-for-a-starting-spot shape with the extra motivation. I guess we'll see.
As for Sagana Diop, I suppose we'll see. If he plays well, the Nets can re-sign him after the season. If not, peace, dude. I thought he looked good from what I saw of him last season, and clearly I love anyone whose name can be used in a Kriss Kross remake. But for some reason, he fell out of Avery's favor this season, so who knows? Again, I guess we'll see. One thing that is certain, however, is that w/ Diop on hand as well as Stro Swift, we can safely announce the death of the Jamaal Magloire Era in New Jersey. Failed experiment, I suppose.
Trenton Hassell I'd imagine will ride the pine, play some garbage time, possibly be used in future trades. His contract goes through '10 but there's an early termination option or something. I find him to be insignificant.
What about Maurice Ager? My roommate went to MSU and swears he's a young kid with a ton of athleticism and potential. He's surprised Mo has been ineffective in the pros, but you can possibly chalk that up to him being a victim of that Dallas iso-heavy system. Maybe we can get some useful minutes out of him. If nothing else, he can pick up some of the 'oop-slack now that Kidd is gone.
Of course I would be neglectful not to mention that it is now appropriate for me to rehang that framed Keith Van Horn poster I used to have on my wall in college, and the unframed autographed poster too, and to bust out the replica #44 again, and to dust off my homemade "HEY KEITH: TAKE IT TO THE HOLE" sign, and to pull up my knee-high socks.... I don't care if he never plays a minute (but please please please let him play several, PLEASE). My Keith has come home to me! For someone who never played up to the potential he had, just having his KVH presence, his good karma, his reminders of days past, days that were much, much worse, and days that got better...it's gonna feel good, at least for this Nets fan. Probably only this Nets fan. But I don't care. I am ready for this new era. And I am ready for Keith to usher it in, even if his role is merely a symbolic one.
Basically, the success of the New Jersey Nets...and, yes, of the Brooklyn Nets To Be Named Later...depends upon primarily one thing- the leadership of one Mr. Jefferson. I believe he can be a great leader. It is time for RJ to step up and back up all the talk and the behind-the-scenes "Vince isn't the man" chatter. His stats have been great this season. He's quietly becoming one of the best small forwards in the league. And now, this is his team. He's the vet with the heart, the drive, and the gumption to spread that heart, and that drive around the roster. Vince is not a leader. He won't try to be one. Someone will have to. I think RJ is up to it. And I think he's up to quietly telling the overly sensitive Vince to shut his mouth and know his role, as JKidd was never willing to do. I think Richard can absolutely flourish in a leadership role. Now that Kidd's gone, it has to be Jefferson. Time to shine, RJ. Your teammates believe in you. I believe in you. We believe in you. Don't give up on them, and don't give up on us. Because while players may eventually get frustrated and demand an exit, the fans will always be here.
The Nets are on NBATV tonight. Which means the whole country will be getting a look at their persisting mediocrity. If by "the whole country," I mean "maybe four people not watching the non-stop Super Tuesday coverage and me." I'm holed up in my room because my housemates care about politics lots. I care about checking out Stromile Swift's street clothes and Pau Gasol in a purple & gold. (Seriously, Rod, you couldn't get mea Spaniard for my birthday this year? What's a girl got to do!?) So I think some running commentary is in order.
I would also like to take a moment before the game starts to bid a fond farewell to Jason Collins. I've said a lot of negative things about him in this space and on the other blog. I carried on (and on, and on) about how he shouldn't be starting for any NBA team (or NBDL team for that matter). I initially reacted with glee when I learned he was traded. In my mind, anyone had to be more effective, even a perennial underachiever such as Stro. However, the truth is I never wanted to see Twin banished from the Swamp. I wanted to see him as more of a role player off the bench. His coaches and teammates have always respected him and he's always played hard. I just wanted the team to use him in a more appropriate manner. But you can't have your cake and eat it too. (Which is stupid, because what's the point of having cake if you can't eat it?) So fare thee well, Jason. I appreciate everything you did for these Nets and their fans.
Now with RJ and his BFF Luke Walton on the screen, let's get this party started...
But guess what? Everything out there today mentions the fact that Kidd is displeased with Carter and how crappy and unmotivated Carter is. And to that I say: No fucking duh.
Vince's contract fucks the Nets over. We knew it then. We just did not know how MUCH it would fuck them over. Plunging the team to lottery levels and alienating the captain and best point guard in the league- that I did not see coming, at least not this quickly. So yes, Kidd is being a bratty dipshit, but if the Nets had just worked a sign & trade for VC or even let him fucking walk, we would not be having this discussion because I surmise they would be playing much better without his gimpy knees and pouty face and piss poor attitude, and JKidd would be happy and they would be winning and yayyyyyy........
Anyway. A few weeks still until the trade deadline. And a pleasant distraction in the Giants Super Bowl at least for the next few days.
As always, In Rod We Trust. No fire sales, please.
Every time I think I'm going to write a blog post, and promise to do so, I end up not doing it. And every time I swear I won't be posting, so as to finish things or study for things, I overly do it. My blogging is the equivalent of being the "Every guy I really want is not interested in me and every guy that really wants me I'm not interested in" girl. And that sucks, cuz that bitch is whiny.
First, this classic SNL piece, which I thought was pretty closely mirrored by all the Heath Ledger coverage on Tuesday. The "Saturday Night Live: Best of Eddie Murphy" is a VHS that still gets some play in my house...yes, even though it is a VHS. So that should tell you something.
Then, there was an ESNEWS video w/ my current favorite Net, Sean Williams, as pointed out by MCB and Nets Daily. Only now it's gone. Which sucks. Because it was freaking fantastic. I'll keep an eye out for its return. Because in Nets land, the entertainment is not present on the court these days. Believe that.
For real, I was all excited to watch Nets vs. Kings and then not only did my boys let the Kings put up 5 3's in the 1st quarter, they basically decided not to try for the rest of the game. Then I go to watch the Kings last night and root for them against the Clippers (since I clearly couldn't root for them against the Nets, because like...it's the Nets) and of course they get blown the fuck out by the Clippers. It's ridiculous. I can't win. Now not only is my life the anti-serendipity, so is my NBA fandom.
Speaking of the Kings though, it's nice to see Ron-Ron back in action. (And like booooooo Villa. Unless they were just trying to provoke him into being CRAZY, in which case...hee.) I do like though that every time he gets knocked down, instead of giving him the helping hand up, other players (opponents and teammates alike) kind of just pat him on the head or shoulder but make sure to keep their distance, cuz that motherfucker's crazy.
"We've played with this before. We were out looking in and ended up in the sixth spot and got to the second round. We just got to keep fighting. Hopefully we can put a nice win streak together or go 15 out of 18. That would definitely help."
So like...that's the plan? A page out of the old Lakers handbook? JKidd going the way of Shaq, or even LeBron? A little of the old "Take it easy and we can turn it on when we have to" strategy? Because last I checked, that didn't work out all that well.
Kidd is better than that. Here's hoping he's just trying to maintain a positive attitude, and it just came out wrong.
We also feel the need to address the unsubstantiated and most likely bogus VC engagement rumors. Because what else does one do on a blog other than fan the flames of blatently false accusations of fidelity?
Having no connect inside the organization whatsoever, I have consulted the most reliable source for information of this nature- the NBA Girlfriend Forum. Of course!
Vince and I went to Tenjune in NYC this weekend after he and his team stunk up the joint in Jersey and lost to the Celtics. Nets Dancer? yeah right. Vince is not serious with anyone right now, and I know that for a fact. Though he may be fucking her, any thing more serious than that is a lie. Im fucking him right now, and I know he's fucking another model chick ( who I can't stand) right now as well. Her name is Alisha Conty, anyone who is close to Vince knows who she is, and anyone who is close to him would know who I am as well.
Then there are some allegations of Vince spreading around the Herp.
So we here at The GOY have come to the conclusion that...NBA groupies are classy individuals.
This post is being brought to you by the oily pecs of Reggie Theus.
I wrote a blog post the other day and right around when I was finishing it up, Internet Explorer crashed and I lost the whole thing. This has happened to me a bunch of times and for awhile there it was really frustrating and upsetting and one time I even almost cried.
This time though, I kinda just shrugged it off. Mutter the obligatory, "Are you fucking kidding me?!?" and then switched right over to do something else, possibly even work.
Because really, I should know better by now. I should know to hit the "Save" button every few minutes, and know not let the thing sit unfinished while I dick around on other sites, and know that the Internet Gods hate me. And, you know, I do know these things. But somewhere in the execution, they get ignored, or forgotten, and then I lose entire posts. Then I get angry. Then I realize I'd just written another stupid rant about fat people that wasn't particularly funny, just really angry, at fat people, and at the Nets, and at Mike Bibby too for some reason. Sooooo yeah. Despondency won the day, and I abandoned all hope of getting any posts up anytime soon. Because my feelings toward the Nets, and I'd imagine the Nets' feelings toward themselves likely parallel this lost-post feeling. They're losing games by making the same mistakes as always. And they're not caring/trying enough for whole games, but also not caring/trying enough to put forth the effort to remedy the situation before it's too late. They've just been really frustrating to watch. They consistently toe the line of mediocrity, occasionally playing like champs, occasionally playing like scrubs, but mostly just playing like....meh. There's not a lot to write about a team like that without rehashing over and over the same complaints about what's being done wrong, and what needs improvement, particularly when the same issues continue to plague the below-par play on the court. I say this knowing full well the Nets can turn it around and rip off one of those mid-season 10 game win streaks next week if something clicks. So, hopefully my saving of this post after every sentence or so is paralleled by some continuous positive trends on the court from my boys. Despondency has no place in the NBA.
As always, the root of the problem is our self-assured baller, who now keeps the dubious company of Tim Thomas, Kwame Brown and Eddy Curry in terms of effort and drive, at least according to other players. Nice to know they agree with me. Would be nicer if he just played a little harder and the team won more games. Ah well.
Been keeping busy watching other basketball. Hopped onto the Blazers bandwagon about a month ago. Enjoyed the Kings very much, right up until Bibby's return. Hoping Reggie sees the light and sits his ass down, or the Maloofs trade his not-in-a-gang ass. I do heart me some Francisco Garcia, really REALLY heart me some Brad Miller, Kevin Martin is just freaking fabulous, and I will never ever tire of Mikki Moore's facial expressions or his reactions to good things happening on the court. So the Blazers and the Kings- they've been supplying me w/ the means to yell at the television in delight while my own allegiance has left me a bit deprived.
Anyway, here is some deliciously down-home Brad Miller. Just because, that's why.
I also checked out the Dakota Wizards during the D-League showcase the other night so I could get an extended look at the Boom Tho Movement. I would seriously marry Rod Benson tomorrow, given the opportunity. Twice. He's like a less deranged version of Gilbert, with twice the intelligence. And I love Gilbert!
So yeah. Hopefully some more Nets content eventually, once there's actually something interesting to write about. If not, I may subject you all to some things that are on the newer side to me- college basketball? Hockey? Bikini rodeo pie-fighting? Stay tuned!
Having dedicated myself to getting back down to playing weight recently, I had to accept the fact that visits to the gym may interfere with Nets-basketball-watching capabilities. Because sometimes games tip off at 7, which always feels a little early. And as a Nets fan, I had to accept that this could mean missing the best basketball the Nets play; this team is not exactly known for its strong play to close out games, to say the least. Often, this team plays its best basketball in the first half (and it can be magnificent on many nights), only to go completely cold after the half and end up losing by double digits. Such is life. But as long as I can still watch my team, and then flip around the League Pass for the rest of the night, I'm (relatively) content. Of course I'd rather watch my team dominate. But not every season can be one for the ages. I know this, accept this, and go on with my life.
So last night, when I got home during halftime, flipped on the game versus Orlando to see the Nets down 8, and then watched them quickly fall further behind (by as many as 15 at one point), I figured it was the same old story- keep things close for a half and then sputter out down the stretch. But it didn't happen. The second half, most notably the fourth quarter, was a bright spot for the current Nets season as a whole. So what happened?
Lightning in a bottle.
Let me digress for a moment. (Don't act like you're not pleased I finally broke the "anecdote comes first" formula...we all like change from time to time.)
Morning radio shows are terrible, but sometimes they play music, so that's what my alarm clock is set to. Mostly because that buzzer sound is what I imagine to be the sound you hear as you descend into hell. So yeah, some mornings I get music, some mornings I get inane conversational drivel. Either/or will wake me up (eventually...I'm a huge proponent of the snooze button). If it's a decent song I might let it play for a few seconds, but most songs and all forms of morning dj conversation usually propel me with a quickness toward the snooze and/or off button. Not today, my friends. The conversation topic I awoke to on this morning was so intriguing, so compelling, so...profound...that I had no choice but to continue to lie in my bed and listen for several moments.
Now, apparently...and I missed the beginning, so my facts could be off...apparently, some woman, somewhere, possibly locally...weighed in recently at around 950 lbs. And apparently she had only weighed around 500 lbs. But then she got hit by a car, or truck. One of the show's hosts asked, "Did the truck make it?" Laughs all around. And then since the 500 lb. woman was ah..."incapacitated," she put on the other 400 lbs. More laughs all around. Then the real point of discussion- this woman was married, with two children. Questions asked and unfortunately not answered before I had to get out of bed, content that for at least one day, someone else was going to hell before me: Who would marry her? Who would not only marry her but have sex with her, at least twice? Do you need to have a fetish? Do you need to be skinny? Do you need to be incredibly...ehhhm, well-endowed? And seriously, how does one get that monstrously obese?
The answer occurred to me as I begain to write about last night's Nets game- lightning in a bottle.
Think about it. How lucky do you have to be as a 500 lb. woman, let alone a 900 lb. woman, to find somebody to, as the morning show hosts put it (and I approve!) "bang you out" even once? Not to mention stay with you, procreate with you, procreate with you again, all while watching you put on 400+ more lbs.? You need an incredibly fortuitous combination of circumstances. You need a guy who really likes fat chicks, and a guy who is physically capable of exercising his penchant for fat chicks, and a personality not altogether too awful for someone to spend the rest of their life with you regardless of your weight, and decent weather (because I don't care how strong your obesity fetish is, fat people must smell terrible in extreme heat).... Only if all these things come together do you have a shot at reaching the type of situation ripe for morning show fodder. But the odds are decidedly not in your favor. Probably 49 times out of 50, the chick who fondly recalls her 500 lb. days as "The Skinny Years" dies alone. Possibly with a house full of cats. If she hasn't eaten them.
And my point is this: 49 times out of 50, when you have a bad shooting night from Vince (a.k.a. "Errant Jump Shot Theater"), RJ (a.k.a. "3 Point Shots Are Not For You!!!") and JKidd (a.k.a. "The Best Point Guard In The League But Not Even Close To One Of Its Better Shooters By Far") coupled with foul trouble on your promising young big men, you are not going to win.
I'm not sure last night's win over the Magic was the turning point of the season. And if it was, I'm not sure that's a good thing. As mentioned earlier, I am completely enamored with Boone and the Freak Elastique. But, as young players are prone to do, they will get in foul trouble against the elite big men in the league, and probably won't be ready to drive the momentum of an entire game just yet.
So let's look at this objectively here. You won by 1 point. You had a huge game from Darrell Armstrong, who clearly intended to make a triumphant return to his former basketball home. You had a big game from Malik Allen, who may continue to play at a higher level, thus causing me to take back any negative things I had to say about his basketball-playing abilities. You got 10 points from JASON COLLINS! He went 5 for 5! With no turnovers! AND had the NBA Steal of the Night! That's never going to happen again! Not to mention the intense Dwight Howard elbow that Boki took square to the face. (Bok, if you need someone to hold some ice on there for you, I'm your girl...really, I'm very doting...call me!) And for some reason, the Orlando tv crew was under the impression the Nets used the thunderous DH 'bow as a rallying point, despite the fact it was quite obviously unintentional. But rallying point or not, after my poor Boki picked himself up off the floor, the Nets all of a sudden woke up. The game got more physical and the refs let them play. And what did the Nets get as a result of this series of improbable performances and hard fouls? A win. An exciting, down-to-the-wire, scream-at-the-television-with-glee, maybe-this-season's-not-over win.
But what are the odds the Nets can win games like this, with their "Big Three" (I hate that term) cold and their big men saddled with fouls early, often? They say you can only catch lightning in a bottle once, if ever. The Nets starters need to play solidly, in the same games, and with more consistency, so that the rest of the team doesn't have to try to string together a list of improbables. I love seeing guys like Malik and Armstrong, and yes, Twin have good games. I just don't love having to rely on it.
We here at Giggin' On Ya make no apologies for not getting you guys a Christmas gift. You see, we don't celebrate Christmas, as any of you who have been jocking my shit for awhile surely know by now. And while it may have been a function of a new city for me, I wasn't even entirely certain when the Hanukkah fell on the ol' calendar this year. This is not abnormal. For years, due to final exams and things of that nature, it was always a surprise to get the "Happy Hannukah" phonecall on that first night, what with it always being a different date, ranging anywhere from right after Thanksgiving to several days past Christmas. And so it is not only acceptable, but pretty much expected at this point, that presents from Becky arrive not so much during Hanukkah, as around Hanukkah. Sometimes wrapped. Sometimes not so much. I fucking suck at wrapping presents. Gift bags were invented for people like me. But I digress.
Yes, the gift-giving holidays are over (unless you count a raging New Years Day hangover a gift, in which case you and I will get along juuuuuust fine). But we here at the GOY (ironic?) believe that it's never too late for the holiday spirit. And so we would like to give to you, dear readers, the Holiday Gig List. For the most deserving of gigs for the past year.
Ben and I went back and forth for a few hours nominating those worthy of a year-end gig. He, especially, would like you to know that not all gigs are necessarily representative of the views and opinions of both giggers.
I bet you can tell which are from Ben, and which are from Becky.
Come open up your shoddily wrapped present, after the jump....
As is my routine, this morning I was getting ready for work with SportsCenter on the tv in the background. And with the raging case of ADD that I have, my gaze tends to dart back and forth between the tv and the mirror where I am applying my eye makeup. Really, it's a wonder I haven't taken out an eyeball with an eyeliner pencil yet. But I digress. So there I was, gazing upon Purple Jesus, as the Monday Night Football crew interviewed him after last night's game, and he's talking about how he never wants to let up or take it easy and just wants to play hard all the time, and I switch my focus back to the mirror...and I catch myself grinning like an idiot. Because it's just awesome to hear a player who is THAT GOOD talk about how much he loves playing. And that makes him all the more awesome to watch. And this is a player on a team that I'm supposed to be rooting against, for my own allegiance's playoff "hopes." And here I am goofy happy, like I just opened my door to see someone left me a plate of freshly baked cookies and a bottle of Goose, just to watch him play and listen to him talk about playing. Which makes me all whiny and girl-like...why can't any players on the teams I root for make me feel this way?
To be fair on Lawrence, I was skeptical about Williams and Boone as well. But let's be honest here- Jason Collins is completely useless. Every game he started hurt my soul a little bit on the inside. And as I've said, I'm sure he is a wonderful guy. He's just not a very good basketball player. And though I wasn't sure it was possible, he has regressed even further this season; his defense isn't even particularly solid anymore. Also, Magloire was their "big free agent signing" from the off-season, so I guess you have to give him a shot. But yeah. Those 2 clearly were not getting it done. And unfortunately, we're still playing the "what if" game with ol' Nenad's health. And, I am sorry to say, Malik Allen isn't getting the job done either.
Quick aside here...I had the good fortune to run into RJ and Malik at a bar near my house the night before they played the Wizards. Both very nice guys. But if anyone talks to Malik, could you tell him I'm gonna need reimbursement for the money I lost betting on the Nets after he guaranteed a victory? Because he messed that call up, big time.
Anyway. So speaking of that Wizards game, I went to it. Obviously. If you don't think I marked off every time the Nets were coming to town on the Wiz schedule as soon as I moved down here, you clearly don't know me at all. And I made sure to get seats where I could see the Nets bench. And the most notable thing about that bench was that Sean Williams was always on it. He didn't get into the game once. And I wasn't sure why, and no one ever said why, other than "coach's reasons" or whatever. And I was sad. Because, while it took him a little time to get his feet wet, so to speak, the last several games I'd watched him play in, he was starting to look like a real motherfuckin beast. All the "athleticism" and "upside" with which I'd heard him described was starting to show, and I was really looking forward to seeing it on display in person. Wistfully, it was not to be. And, relatedly or not, the Nets got their asses whooped. (Though I haven't ruled out RJ's apparent hangover as a possible causal factor there...you're supposed to go out drinking the night AFTER a game, not the night before.)
What did I get to see from Sean Williams at the Verizon Center that night? Why, a raging case of ADD just like mine! I've never seen anyone so delighted by the Kiss Cam, t-shirts on parachutes, children's musical chair competitions and mascot antics as Sean Williams. While I should a) be annoyed that our promising rookie is paying absolutely zero attention to his coach; and b) make an obvious "He must have gotten soooooo high before the game" joke, I can't do it. I was absolutely delighted watching his childlike reactions to something as silly as the Kiss Cam. You know when you play peek-a-boo with a baby and it gleefully squeals and claps its hands together? That was Sean Williams! With all the timeout and between-quarter entertainment! It was so ridiculous how much he enjoyed this stuff, it was amazing- I couldn't even be mad.
So now we're gonna see this kid - and that's what he is, a kid - get the start. And maybe I'm being hopelessly optimistic here (what choice do I have?) but I predict good things. Not to mention how well Boone has been playing this year and should continue to do (more optimism). He showed flashes last season but made a lot of rookie mistakes...I'm incredibly pleased to see he's built on that experience.
So here we go, Nets fans (all...both of you?). Time to see what the future looks like in the Meadowlands (because we all know it's still another few years before any pro ball is played in Brooklyn). I'm feeling good about the immediate future.
These good feelings are estimated to last about...3 days.
But it's nice to have that happy hopeful feeling again.
As a final random note...come on, Bok. You can't tell me your innocence is lost here? You're telling me in Slovenia they have 40-year-old athletes that are better at that age than when they were younger? It's silly. And I refuse to believe there are no PEDs in the NBA (looking your way, Carlos Boozer...). But that's another discussion for another time. Let's leave it at this:
"I like baseball because it's so different from basketball," Nachbar said. "It's at a slower pace, and I enjoyed going to games, hanging out with my friends and eating a hot dog."
There is a Chris Rock bit about how some dudes want credit for doing things that they're supposed to do in the first place.
-I take care of my kids!
-You're supposed to, you dumb mothafucka! What kind of ignorant shit is that?
-I ain't never been to jail!
-What do you want, a cookie? You're not supposed to go to jail, you low expectation-having mothafucka!
Guess what, Mr. Kidd? You want credit for having played in all those games with your Nets teammates? You're supposed to do that. You get paid millions of dollars to do that. So yes, you are supposed to play in every game where you are healthy enough to do so. One month into the season is a little fucking early to throw in the towel, is it not? You're supposed to be the fucking captain of this team, the fucking leader, right? So fucking lead. Don't set an example that being a whiny little bitch is acceptable in the Swamp. It's bad enough Vince exemplifies that shit in games, now you're gonna take it to a whole new level off the court?
You are thirty-fucking-four years old, Mr. Kidd; acting like a petulant eight-year-old does not fucking suit you.
The information is "conflicting" as of this moment. So I shall reserve final judgment on the situation until the facts come out. For all intents and purposes, throw a big fucking "If" at the top of this post, and scatter question marks and "hypothetically"'s here and there. But one thing is certain- the type of shit being speculated about is lame. It poisons locker rooms and makes poor impressions on young players in those locker rooms.
I sincerely hope this is just media fabrication. Because there is still that part of me that wants to be a naive sports fan, and look up to the players on the teams that I root for as heroes. The verdict is on Eli Manning and A-Job- they will never be heroes. But Jason Kidd....Jason Kidd still had that in him for me. He still brought hope. The tireless efforts on the court, ability to make everyone around him better, and the way he could change the course of a game when he put his mind to it....don't kill it for me. Hell, don't kill it for RJ. If this crap is true, RJ's heart must be broken into a million pieces. As it should be. It's fucking December. The Captain should have a little faith, or at least a little resolve.
At the very very least, he should have the decency to show up to the fucking games.
UPDATE: Yes, it appears I spoke too soon. Whatever. Just be happy I'm posting again.
A handful of U.S. States have enacted hands-free laws, requiring the use of hands-free devices while talking on a cell phone and operating a vehicle. All masturbatory jokes aside, this is a good law. Most drivers (myself excluded, obviously) are assholes. Even the ones that are not assholes in everyday life still manage to drive like assholes. While simple logic suggests having one hand up to your ear would not exacerbate this much, the stupidity of the average human defies logic, even the most simple version out there. Assuming for a moment that before cell phone usage, people kept both hands on the steering wheel and didn't apply makeup, fiddle with the radio or eat elaborate meals (it takes a special type of skill to consume a Cheesy Gordita Crunch while driving), requiring people to keep both hands on the wheel is smart. I've seen enough of you dipshits almost swerve into medians because you were answering your call waiting. It makes me feel good knowing that you're not supposed to do this anymore.
Well guess what? Assholes are still assholes. Because what explanation other than the preceding sentence would tell me why these people think that holding their phone at arm's length and putting it on speaker phone makes them safer drivers? If anything, it makes them worse. Way worse. Moving the stupid phone back and forth, adjusting speaker volume, inspecting the thing to see where the little microphone is in relation to their mouth...and they STILL ONLY HAVE ONE HAND ON THE WHEEL.
Like, whatever. Maybe I'm overreacting and it's a stupid rule anyway because if someone's gonna drive like an asshole, they're gonna do it regardless of whether they get their cell phone involved. HOWEVA. Just the fact that they believe they are following the law by doing that whole speaker phone in front of the face maneuver pisses me the fuck off. If you're gonna defy the law, defy it completely. Don't pretend to be a law abiding citizen while still being, yes, an asshole.
I am a giant douche!
What does my mid-morning asshole rant have to do with the Nets? Well, I'll tell you!
The Nets' off-season moves are the NBA equivalent of holding your phone in front of your face and yelling at it. Remember last year when we were watching Mikki Moore, Eddie House, Hassan Adams and Bernard Robinson running around? Well that clearly resulted in a 2nd round crash into a proverbial tree. Somehow the new plan of running around with Jamaal Magloire, Eddie Gill, Darrell Armstrong and Malik Allen is supposed to keep this team driving in a straight line? I don't fucking think so. The only bench player that looked like an improvement over last year's band of miscriants in last night's "gimme" win over the LBJ-less Cavs (quotation marks placed lovingly around the word gimme to emphasize the fact that if it weren't for RJ's heroics, Shannon Brown could have easily dismantled the Nets' supposed sure-thing W) was Sean Williams. All the glowing reviews you've been reading about this kid are spot on- he's got the raw talent to make him a sizable beast in the National Basketball Association. Does he have the drive and heart to bring this to fruition? Maybe, maybe not. It's too early to tell.
What it's not too early to tell is that this bench on this team is not making a 4-car collision any less likely. In fact, it might very well be more dangerous, for both the Nets' playoff hopes, and my sanity.
So guess what? I just got my shiny new League Pass in my shiny new house in my shiny new city.
Well I guess none of it is "new," per se. But my roommate just hooked up the League Pass today, and I just moved into this house and this city less than 3 weeks ago. So it's new to ME, dammit.
Anyway, in honor of the above, and to announce my triumphant return to the blogosphere…and mostly to keep my mind off the fact that the bar exam results are available in about 12 hours…I'm gonna liveblog this game. And by "liveblog," of course I mean "stream of consciousness," as I always do.Yes, I COULD attempt to do that whole "timestamp" thing that the "pros" do, but it's fucking amateur hour in here. Unless someone wants to pay me.Wait….
Let it be known that if tomorrow I jump off my building due to the news of bar failure and a ten-year A-Rod contract, I spent my last night deliberately watching the Nets get obliterated by the Celtics. No, that's not an attempt at a jinx, I'm just super duper smart.
If you dare, friends, follow the "jump," as the kids say....
In four more years, our 2 guard, we might finally be rid of you such longing for the past when you were nasty What was once promising has now turned into despair I've become jaded from your playing
They say: 'Vince stays, he’s our go-to guy and superstar’ And he can't suck forever, no he can’t suck forever
Four more years, now there are four more years Four more years, Now there are four more years Four more years so hold on
2x
You've taken hundreds of bad shots, my self-assured baller Enough to fill our heads with anger and frustration To win us all back over, remove those pussy moves from your game To start anew all over more aggressive
I know, dear Vince, this is not the only way you can play And you can't suck forever, No you can’t suck forever
Four more years, now there are four more years Four more years, Now there are four more years Four more years so hold on
2x
You don't need to be the answer your teammates are talented too You don't need to pretend to take over the offense
Bruce Ratner really likes you but he knows dick about basketball you've become an errant shooter since you became a Net you’ve become softer, this play is killing Larry and JKidd
we cover our eyes from your misses by miles we try to remember your first few seasons you were Half Man/Half Amazing you took over games we want to think you can be that player again of course you could never be the Nets’ #1 guy if you won’t play your hardest every night be the Nets’ #1 guy the only hope we have is hope for you to figure it out maybe this team can win it all if you refocus
(Four more years, now there are four more years Four more years, Now there are four more years Four more years so hold on)
So the draft is coming up in a few days, and the free agent market goes WILD a few days after that. What's a Becky to do in the meantime? I'm not into mock drafts for the same reason I'm not into rampant trade speculation... "When something actually happens...we'll talk." And I'm DEFINITELY not ready to deal with the prospect of several more years of the Vince Carter Era.
So instead, you shall get the long awaited "What the hell does the name
of this blog mean" post. No, Urban Dictionary will not be helpful in solving this mystery. So you are just going to have to read along a bit. I alluded to writing this months ago, not
that anyone remembers, and it's been something I've been meaning to
do...and it just hasn't gotten done. This changes now.
A lot of people remember Shaquille O'Neal's groundbreaking album Shaq Diesel. Most notably, they remember the absolutely riDICulous lyrics, they remember Shaq teaming up with Fu-Schnickens on "What's Up, Doc", or they remember the Reebok commercial with my personal favorite song in 6th grade, "Shoot, Pass, Slam."
Most people were not as cool as me though (and by "cool" I mean "silly") so their Shaq Diesel expertise ends there.
(Note: this does not apply to Curtis Granderson. This automatically makes him 100x more awesome than he already was, by the way.)
One of my other favorite songs (yes, I may have even played this one to pump myself up before softball games...don't judge me, I was 12!) from this album was "Giggin' On 'Em." It revolves around a loose premise of Shaq being a dominant force capable of "giggin'" on anyone who dares get in his way. There are some absurd lyrics, a stellar contribution from Phife Dawg from A Tribe Called Quest, and at the end, a suberb list of "fellas and peoples" on which Shaq has succeded in "giggin'."
Disclaimer #1: A fairly extensive internet search turned up absolutely no listing of the lyrics to this song anywhere. Lots of "removed at request of the artist" and "no lyrics exist for this song in our database." So I had to go in and do the dirty work myself. Yes, 'tis true, I transcribed the full lyrics of "Giggin' On 'Em." You're welcome.
Disclaimer #2: Shaq mumbles a bit. The lyrics I grabbed are not entirely accurate. So I'm not including them all here. If anyone wants what I came up with, send me an email and I will gladly send you "Becky's interpretation of what Shaq is saying in 'Giggin' On 'Em'" as well as a sweet little personal message, just for paying attention to me.
For this post though, I present to you:
"The Gems of Giggin' On 'Em."
First, the verses:
Shaq starts out by introducing himself to you, the listener:
Hi, my name is Shaq and I wanna go pop
Not
I gotsta have the hip in my hop
So what he's telling us here is he's completely badass.
And not willing to fit the molds of what pop music was all about in 1993.
If you're curious, it looked a little something like this. Which makes no sense to me. Because Jeremy Jordan was fuckin GANGSTA.
Oh, and um...don't do a Google Image search for Mr. Jordan...there is apparently a gay porn star by the same name, and I just learned that the uh...difficult way.
Moving on...
Enter with a frown, then I leave with the smile
You’re soon to figure out that Shaq is worth your while
Cuz seein’ is believin’ and ya best believe it
And if you’re from Belize, well then ya best Belize it
I see.
Um...look. From everything I've heard, Belize is one of the most beautiful vacation spots in the world. It's chock full of history, amazing aesthetics, and exciting things to do.
But I have to, HAVE to ask...how far does Shaq's knowledge of the country go? How far did it go in 1993?
Don't get me wrong, Shaq could have been an expert on Belize when he wrote the lyrics to this song and I would fully accept this as making complete sense...but I have a hunch he was having some fun with ah..."wordplay."
"Believe? Belize? That's gold, Phife Dawg, gold!"
Sometimes I get crazy and this is how I feel
Ben Franklin who? Put Shaquille on the hundred dollar bill
I'm sorry, Mr. O'Neal, but I'm afraid that just doesn't sound like enough to get the U.S. Department of Treasury to change the currency. That's this country, anyway. Maybe you should try Belize?
(Cheap one. Sorry.)
But I’m the Shaqnificent standing in my b-ball stance
I know ya heard
I start fires like Donnie Wahlberg
OK, first? Where did "Shaqnificent" go? I want to bring this back. It's not even on his Wiki page! This is an atrocity. All other nicknames other than "The Diesel" and "Shaqnificent" should be banned from here on out. Because Becky said so, that's why.
And second? Dude, Donnie Wahlberg was charged with arson in early 1991. Even when Shaq Diesel came out, people were listening to this going, "Start fires like Donnie Wahlberg? Timely!"
And of course, by "people listening," I mean...uh...me. And Curtis Granderson. Maybe one other guy. Oh, and Shaq's mom.
I get vexed when ya disrespect
Should I put you in check or should I break your neck
You think you’re hard but your lyrics are soft
I hate when MCs yell to get their point across
Ahhh, he's just talking tough. He doesn't really wanna break anyone's neck. He's being all figurative and stuff...he'll battle you, yo...RAP BATTLE YOU. Don't BRING those weak ass rhymes up in Shaq's grill...man. Check yourself before you wreck yourself. I don't know where I'm going with this.
When it comes to the micrah P-H-O-N-E
I got maaad lyrics and other words plenty
When an MC wants to battle, then it’s on
What the hell made him think he could get with Shaquille Rashaun?
Now it starts becoming clear that he is trying to let you know that all this hard talk on his end is referring to his lyrical mastery. He's provoking. He wants to rap battle. He's ready for YOU. All comers.
I mean...you see what he did with the word "microphone" there, right? Me, I wouldn't mess. But I'm also catastrophically white, so that doesn't actually prove anything.
You run your jibs, but you get no dibs
My style is deadly like the virus that we all call hiv
OK, now that's just awesome.
Granted, I don't know exactly what a "jib" is, other than it's possible to dislike the cut of someone's.
But he rhymed it with "hiv" as in H.I.V. before people were commonly using that phonetically and way before AIDS started being funny.
I’m top choice with the ragged-like voice
Fix my lips for the mike, make sure it sounds moist like a
Betty Crocker or a Duncan Hines cake
And my delivery?
It sounds frosty like a shake
This always made me hungry. I really like cake a lot. And frosting. In fact I might have to go buy some...maybe chocolate...no, maybe the kind with the little rainbow candies in it...oh. Sorry. Got carried away there for a sec.
So what does a frosty delivery sound like? Does that mean it's "cool" or "chill"? And...is that a good thing? And even so, I feel like a shake is way colder than just "cool" and "chill." Or "chilly." Or not?
I'm getting confused.
Personally, I would just like to know how Shaq keeps his lips in a constantly moistened condition. Because I'm addicted to lip gloss and lip balm and things of that nature (I buy them compulsively, as I have mentioned before) and would really appreciate any helpful tips the Shaqnificent could share with me.
Big up myself every time rewind
I come rough like McGruff I take a bite out of crime
Yeah, you read that right. No "timely" joke here...McGruff is here to stay.
What is piquing MY curiosity though is...how exactly does Shaq come "rough"? A man of his size makes this a particularly frightening notion.
Of course, we are just going to assume he's still talking about his prowess on the micro-P-H-O-N-E and not pay any attention to the fact that I constantly allude to S&M in my posts.
That's right, nothing to see here. Move along.
Annnnyway. There are 2 versions of the chorus of the song.
Shaq segues into the first by saying about the MCs that yell to get their point across that he "gigged on 'em." Fair enough.
Check out how he leads into the 2nd chorus though:
Little teeny weeny bits
Cuz my style’s all that shit
Phife Dawg is in the house
So sit Ubu sit, and watch me gig on 'em
Wait...what? "Family Ties"? Really???
I'm not even going to ATTEMPT to decipher the "teeny weeny bits" part. A smart girl can only read really far into early 90s rap lyrics before getting a little loopy.
So to the chorus then?
The chorus is Phife Dawg doing his thang while Shaq alternately says things like "And I gigged on 'em" and "Sit back and watch me gig on 'em."
I'm not sure WHAT the hell Phife is saying.
Something about...taking the "S" off Superman's chest? And facing reality? Because of Big Shaquille's mentality? And Shaq being the lyrical champion? And...bubbling? Somehow? And the need to dismiss all the "powder puff" DJs? And jumping on his truck? And lyrics coming from...behind...God's? Back?
Ahhhh....yeah, you lost me, Phife.
So when Shaq starts up his 3rd verse, Phife cuts him off. He says, not in so many words, "No, Shaq, it's not really necessary to get into all this...in the alternative may I suggest you compile a list of those that you have gigged upon thus far?"
And that is what the Diesel does.
He rattles of a list by saying "So-and-so, I gigged on him," while Phife backs him up with "Yeah...yeah...yeah...yeah...yeah...yeah" and later on with "Hell yeah...hell yeah...hell yeah hell yeah!"
Let's look at this list:
1) Greg Anthony
Why Shaq heads up this list with Anthony is beyond me. He's at least a foot taller than him. And I'm not sure of any particular beef between them. Chalk it up to Shaq warming up.
2) Alvin Robertson
Another guard? Also about a foot shorter than the Diez? Who wasn't even that relevant by 1993? Gotta admit, Shaq, you're confusing me a bit....
Maybe he's just letting the word know he's not into wife beating. We'll give it to him.
3) Manut Bol
Well, THAT'S hardly fair. I mean, yeah, he's really really tall. But back then, dunking on Manut Bol was like dunking on Shawn Bradley. And by all accounts, he's a great guy. That's just mean, Shaq.
4) Grandmama (yes, he calls him "Grandmama" in the song)
OK, fair enough. LJ wasn't all that tall, but he was pretty badass. I'll give it to him.
Plus, of course, there's this.
Not really relevant, but still awesome.
5) Me Phi Me
Um...if there is a rap battle between these two in video archives somewhere? I'd pay top dollar to get my hands on them. (Note: for the unemployed such as myself, that means around $20.)
If not, then I have no idea where this came from. Like, whatsoever. Did Shaq have some sort of big problem w/ Me Phi? If so, why? These are questions for which I just don't have the answers.
6) Country people
Yeah, I am officially lost. Country people? People from the country? Big Country? He wasn't even in the NBA! I don't know...I just don't know.
7) Jeffrey Sledge
8) Jeff Fenster
All I've got on these last 2 is that they are or were higher-ups at Jive Records. Who knows if that was the case in 1993.
ButShaq Dieselwas ON Jive Records. So I don't fucking know.
In conclusion:
The song is mostly about lyrical mastery and showing sucka MCs the way it's done, also maybe dunking on point guards.
However, it may have been wise to wait until the list was a little bit longer and, yes, more distinguished to put this song out.
But I love it.
And I'm not entirely sure WHY this bit of slang, seemingly created by Shaq himself, never caught on.
It's been almost 15 years since Shaqnificent attempted to change our verbal landscape with this particular bit of vernacular.
I say we give it a whirl, yes? I feel it has some Big Diesel-sized potential.
Even if not...well, you know you will find Ben and I here giggin', 7 days a week.
OK, maybe not 7 days a week, but at least 4 or 5.
OK, maybe not 4 or 5, but at least whenever we feel like it.
Thanks for reading.
You may now consider yourself an expert in giggin'.
(Yes, I jumped all over that story way too eagerly, but it's only because I thought it could be such a good thing. My heart was in the right place. Swear it.)
And I'm stuck in a 9-4 class. This studying thing is really kicking my ass. And if anyone really cared about the temporary abandonment of Giggin' On Ya, I would apologize. But no one cares. Woe is me and all that.
Anyway, during the week the classes only go until about 1 and there are blog posts for me to read every time J. Gardiner Pieper (who is bound to show up in a sex dream one of these days...if I'm lucky it'll be Troy instead though) digresses from the lecture. But today is Saturday, I'm stuck here for 7 hours, and everybody else in the world is enjoying sleep or the nice weather. But fuck them. They are assholes.
And SPEAKING of assholes. I was watching Sportscenter this morning while I got ready for class, as is the usual routine (oh and fuck Skeets & Tas for not being up early every morning for my entertainment purposes...except not really, those guys are heroes and I don't know how they do it). And Stephen A. Smith was BLAH BLAH BLAHing as per usual about how Kobe ain't going nowhere (I tend to agree with that wholeheartedly) and then mentions, hey, he talked to a "top exec" of the New Jersey Nets and they are still trying really hard to re-sign Vince Carter. And...WHY??? I've read rumblings of such things over the past week or 2, but I figured it was just the front office doing good PR things. "Yeah, yeah...we totally want Vince back. He's a great player and uh...we really think he's a key component of our success." But the journalists taking down such quotes? They don't know how to transcribe the follow-up fits of giggles.
Seriously, I have to assume the front office was watching the Nets games all season. And anyone that watched the Nets all season knows that this team ain't going too far w/ VC as their "go-to" guy. And I use the term "go-to" very very loosely. Even IF he "compromises" down from the max he's looking for, it's not worth it. Keeping Vince is actually subtraction by addition. Because guys want to rely on him, then they rely on him, then he lets them down half the time. But comes through JUST often enough that other guys still tend to defer to him when they should be taking things over themselves. Eh...yada yada. It's been like a month and I'm still tired of talking about Vince. I really want him to go away. He's still lingering though, as storyline #1, and you can't just ignore it and hope it goes away. Other than draft prospects, there's always Vince, right there, needing to be discussed. Huh...I guess it's true VC = VD.
Anyhoo. Family law all day. Wooooo.
At some point I posted a very minimally and tangentially related to the Nets video at El Friends. Link here, if you are really that bored.
And, very strange, I went to get a massage yesterday since my neck and shoulders have more or less separated from each other with all the class-sitting, note-typing, library-studying, etc. And, note to all the massage therapists out there (I believe "massage therapist" means they're legit, whereas the "masseuses" are the more...sketchy? ones?)...if you are looking for a nice gratuity, adding a self esteem boost to the massage is a good way to go about it. Like shoot, lady, I'm sure you tell all your clients they have good bodies, but it certainly worked on me. (Seriously, she told me it was like really "strong"? Is that sketch? Or was something lost in translation?) In all honesty though, I'm a big advocate of "do not speak to me while you are massaging." The last time I went for one (4 whole years ago...it's not really my thing I guess) the dude kept making conversation. That was not appreciated, believe you me. Anyway. I don't know why I shared. Probably because no one is stuck at work for me to email with inane stories like that. Deal with it. :)
And uh...yeah. I don't have shit else going on. Social life has come to a screeching halt. Love life is absolutely and completely non-existent. Which is REALLY unfortunate, seeing as how I can't even go out drinking and doing fun things, so it would be helpful to have some late night companionship.... Like once a week, is that SO much to ask? Well, yes, yes it is. I have run out of options. Like completely. At least suitable options. I'm not ready to cry "desperation" or "Craig's List" just yet, kiddies. There are 2 decent looking dudes in my class, but...well, 1 dresses like a European, likely because he IS a European, and the other pops his collar. Dos dealbreakers. (Assuming they're single and would be interested anyway, which, recently, have not been the circumstances.)
Ah well.
I promise to do a fun post soon. If i don't decide to run away to the Cayman Islands or somewhere first, in lieu of continuing this awfulness.
Oh, and FYI...the Nets do seem to be looking for a new cute white boy for me to ogle on the bench this season:
Thus ends the 2006-2007 season for my New Jersey Nets.
I should have known that a team could not win a championship when its offense is best described as an "ill-advised jump shot arsenal."
Or when its defensive scheme is best described as "jumping in front of an opposing player from 3 feet away with an outstretched arm a half-second too late to actually defend the shot."
And yes, it is still about Vince.
I'm tired of talking about Vince. He's just not The Guy. I wish him well in his future endeavors, be they in Orlando or Charlotte or...I don't know, Italy. Whatever. I think the Nets would be better off with another 2. Someone who is a bit more role player and a bit less...
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