With the best of team sports going into hibernation for six months, and since all is right with the world again now that the Belichik Trophy is back in its natural home of New England, basketball has once again reared its shaven head as the most interesting major sport. Actually, since baseball’s utter piss and hockey (aka snow soccer) only exists to the frostbitten brains of dirty Euro trash, basketball is actually the only noteworthy team sport left right now. From wee pee pants to dead old mummies, here’s some of the news-making mofo’s currently dribbling out today’s biggest stories:
Prince James – LeBron James struck a blow for human genetics the other day after releasing footage of his ten year-old son absolutely annihilating other hapless tykes on the basketball court. If you think that’s impressive, you should have seen the shooting form the kid had on the sonogram. A lot of hypocritical journalists have expressed dismay, as if they’re simply aghast that now opportunistic colleges have begun recruiting the young James when he’s barely out of diapers. Sheeeit, in the modern-day Bible known as Mitch Albom’s “Fab Five”, colleges were going full-bore recruiting Chris Webber when he was only thirteen. Remember that was thirty years ago, and C-Webb’s dad wasn’t the most physically gifted player in NBA history. By virtue of his sperm donor alone, LeBron’s kid should’ve received an automatic D III scholarship when he dropped out of the womb. Let’s just hope that uncontrollable crunchtime bowel movements aren’t hereditary.
Brainstorming – I’m still trying to figure out what the controversy is supposed to be surrounding something we’ve all seen a million incident-free times: a sea of dumb college kids storming the court after a basketball triumph. When Kansas State upset Kansas the other day, this perfectly ordinary occurrence took place yet again, but for some reason came with an asterisk of foreboding doom from the losing coach. The sour grape-sucking Sally bitched and moaned throughout his post-game press conference about how such suicidal practices need to be banned from the game because of their inherent danger. It’s not Altamont in 1969, it’s a friggin college basketball game. B-Ball fans have been storming the courts since the ball had laces, and not one damn thing has ever gone wrong. Let’s not pretend this about saving the world from the unimaginable horrors of scuffed sneakers, it’s about that wimpified coach not getting his face rubbed in another stomp-down.
VanderKilt – Vanderbilt head coach Anonymous Jones made the most news in his second-rate program’s history by saturation F-bombing one of his less gracious players, after the young lad was classlessly trash-talking an opponent after a win. Because if there’s one thing Vanderbilt won’t tolerate, it’s not being muthafuckin classy. The bald-headed middle-aged white guy was screaming at a young black kid like he was a cop or something. The only difference was that he told the kid he was going to kill him instead of actually doing it. Of course, the National Puss Brigade has quickly banded together to admonish the coach’s colorful reprimand, and he immediately took to the Twitterverse to beg for forgiveness as if he did anything wrong. Lost in all of this hullabaloo was the coach screeching, “I’ve told you a hundred times,” presumably about curtailing that exact type of douchey behavior the kid once again displayed. If this kid’s such a notorious asshat, all the more reason why the coach should have gone batshit on him. And don’t give me that coddling crap about how he shouldn’tve been yelled at in such hilarious fashion because he’s just a kid. LeBron’s kid is just a kid, this dude’s in fuckin college. I don’t think it’s the first time he’s heard a four-letter word, especially since playing for Vandy he’s so well-acquainted with the word “Lose.”
UnempLloyd – Black history month was treated to a rather timely death when the NBA’s first black player—yeah, we’re talking that long ago—ol’ Black Dude McGee, aka Earl Lloyd, bit the big one the other day. Evidently, the wrinkled bastard suddenly realized how old he was and promptly dropped dead on the spot. Accordingly, now everyone has to pretend we all know who the ancient nobody even was. Today water coolers everywhere were transformed into sites of mourning, with such heartfelt commentary as, “Oh wow, he died. Who the fuck was he again?” Forget the first black player, I want to know who’s gonna be the NBA’s last white player.