Go Brooklyn

Originally posted on October 4, 2005.

50 years ago today the Brooklyn Dodgers won the World Series.

It got me thinking about my grandmother, Rose, who passed away 3 years ago.

Grannyma loved the Dodgers. I mean loved. The way I love the Knicks. The way I felt about the Liberty from 1997 to 2002. Knew every stat, story and backstory.

Like a lot of other Brooklynites and baseball fans, she was crushed when they moved to LA.

She hated the Yankees and vowed to never watch major league baseball ever again.

And to my knowledge, she never did. I know for a fact she didn't watch baseball for the 18 years we had together. Tennis and figure skating were her sports of choice.

Even when the Mets were exciting in the 80's. Even when the Yankees were unstoppable in the 90's. Couldn't care less about a Subway Series. They weren't her Dodgers.

She'd tell the story of how they stole her Dodgers everytime a baseball highlight had the audacity to be shown during the news. She probably thought I didn't notice, but every October she'd turn the channel right after the weather.

She still loved the game though. She even went as far as to grandma guilt me into playing in the softball league by her house when I was 9. I hated baseball, softball, wiffle ball and anything else with a bat, but Grannyma signed me up and was at every game watching me twiddle my thumbs in the outfield.

She'd give me tips on how not to strike out everytime I was up. How to snap out of my boredom to catch the ball. How fielding ground balls consisted of bending at the knees and waist instead of watching the ball go through your legs.

No doubt my grandmother was a better coach than the actual coach of the team.

As good an outfielder as I became, I still hated the game and even at 9 I knew how disappointed she was that I would even rather play with dolls than stand in the hot sun for 6 innings. And I was one of those little girls that cut the heads off all my dolls.

This glove thing had nothing on a basketball as far as I was concerned.But I began to kind of enjoy watching baseball because I finally knew what the heck I was watching. Since I couldn't watch major league games in her presence, we'd walk down to the park and watch the other kids play. Sometimes we'd stop by the fields in Brooklyn right off the Jackie Robinson Parkway to watch the men play on Sunday afternoons on our way back to Queens from church.

By the time the Brooklyn Cyclones came to town, Grannyma was excited and wanted to support baseball back in Brooklyn, but her schedule, and then her health never permitted it.

Because of her health after 26 years, she wasn't able to do the one thing she loved anymore which was teach at NY City Tech, so she decided to do stuff around the house and needed someone to help her with her medication, sit with her on days she had doctor's appointments, help her cook, and just be around. So we spent the entire summer of 2001 together chilling at her house.

Besides watching her favorite shows Little House on the Prairie, and Press Your Luck, I rented typical grandmother-granddaughter movies like Blow, which she loved. We'd talk sports, politics, economics, race, life, religion and whatever else we could think of.

If it were the day after a Liberty home game, I'd sit in my usual spot on the edge of her bed and replay the previous night's activities, most of the time a win.

She'd always ask how the Liberty were doing. What the lastest goings on were.

She once told me that even if she wasn't a big basketball fan, she loved the way my excitement over the Knicks and Liberty mirrored her love for the Dodgers.

How my enthusiasm on the way to a Liberty game at Madison Square Garden was just like her's on the way to a Dodgers game at Ebbets field.

The way I'd rush home to watch a Knick game was the same way she'd drop everything to listen to a Dodgers game.

She said she knew how important it was to just be able to talk about your team with somebody, anybody who'd listen.

She even wanted to go to a Liberty game with me to see if her craziness was also inherited. But she knew that attending a game in person wasn't something she could get through in her
condition.

She'd smile at my habit of wearing the same outfit to games until a loss caused me to search my closet for something else.

She told me I was a true fan when I explained that I never wore Liberty gear to a Liberty game because the last time I did they lost to Detroit - the Sandy Brondello Detroit.

Everyone else thought I was nuts to have nearly every piece of Liberty merchandise and never wear any of it to a game. She understood.

She talked about the social meaning of having a professional women's basketball team play its games at Madison Square Garden.

And every now and then, usually during another fruitless Liberty finals run, she slipped in a story about those '55 Dodgers.

She said one day I'd experience the joy she felt when they finally won it all and when I did, it would be like nothing I'd ever felt.

I'm still waiting.

Look

Originally posted on June 9, 2005.

I'm gonna need the Bethany Donaphin fan club to stop stalking me.

READ MY FONT: I am not Blaze nor do I care that the girl was waived.

So Rose, Wanda, W, family members, other personalities and whoever else feels the need to ask me why Donaphin was waived and give me some assinine excuses for why she should still be here, here's a thought: Email Blaze.

Call Blaze.

Go to Liberty games with "Bring Back Donaphin" signs. And if you don't get laughed out of the gym by fans with half a clue, maybe you'll get Blaze's attention.

Notice a trend here? Blaze is the gm. Blaze waives players. I am not Blaze.

Geez, the woman finally did something right for a change. I applaud her.

There are plenty of more deserving players out there that aren't in the league. Donaphin is not even close to being one of them.

I'd even gladly take the two Teresa's, Ruthie and their walkers, canes and rocking chairs on my team before I take Donaphin.

So to recap: I don't care about her shot, the fact that she's a New Yorker or whatever else. She got waived. She's gone. Adios. Period.

Does anyone have any sense around here?????????

You people act like we cut Lauren Jackson.

I don't know what the heck you expect to accomplish by asking me as if I am Blaze, why Donaphin got the boot. Tell your girl to show up to camp on time.

And another thing: If you think Donaphin getting waived is a reason for the decline in Liberty attendance, you're a freakin idiot.

Good day.

You're All Wrong

Originally posted on April 14, 2005.

O'Neal is right in his assessment that the proposed age minimum for NBA players has racial undertones.

He's wrong in his belief that that really matters among the owners. Now the fans and talk radio babblers are a different species altogether. And if he meant them, then I most certainly agree with him.

But the only color I think these owners see is green.

Just because something is racial does not make it racist. Would the minimum impact Black high schoolers moreso than whites? Of course. But do the owners care more about race or money and perception?

Owners care about the fact that the paying fan seems as disconnected from the players they're rooting for as they've ever been. The owners are worried about the perception of their athletes as overpaid, underskilled and ungrateful. If anything has racial undertones, it's the fact that the owners and fans, the ones who make and champion the rules while signing and financing the checks, look nothing like the players expected to abide by those rules.

It's racial, not racist.

To me, a situation is racial when race cannot be avoided. It's racist when there is malicious intent.

A 40 year old white upper-middle class fan probably won't relate to the culture of a 25 year old black man who makes his living above the rim. So you can forget about a 50-70 year old billionaire owner being able to do the same.

Let's be real. If I, a 21 year old black woman, owned team, I'd probably run it a liiiiiiiiiittle differently than say, James Dolan. Heck if I were a 45 year old white guy, I'd run the Knicks differently, but still, just based on the premise of age, gender, class origins, race, etc., my perceptions would be and are different than that of an older white male. There's nothing malicious about that. It's just a matter of understanding and relating.

So, no, I don't believe NBA owners and David Stern care more about Holding The Black Man Down than they do being able to sell their product to disgruntled fans during a collective bargaining period.

What, besides hip-hop and Ron Artest, are NBA fans always complaining about?(Knicks fans not included, of course)

The quality of the game.

At this point I think Stern and his cronies have exhausted every other option. I mean, now I'm forced to watch the zone year round, ticky-tack fouls are being called left and right and don't look now, but I hear they're going to introduce the 4 point shot. Okay not really on that last one, but still, the WNBA is getting more physical than the NBA.

Whether O'Neal and his fellow high school All-Stars care to admit it or not, players have gotten more athletic, but the quality of the game has gone down. And in no way is it the fault of the players who ultimately will bear the burden and blame in the media and among the fans. It's the fault of the owners. And now typically, they want to transfer that blame.

Instead of implementing an age limit, these brainiacs should stop expanding and diluting the talant pool. Then they should be fixing their minor league system and getting the eyesores out of the league.

Face it: There are whole NBA teams, not games; teams that are difficult, sometimes painful to watch. Among them, my Knicks. There are too many players chilling on the bench waiting for their potential to catch up to their bodies and their athleticism. There are too many players that can take off from the free-throw line to dunk, but can't shoot a jump shot from the same distance.

But unlike Stern, I don't blame that on high school players. I blame that on the idiots these owners are hiring to build their rosters. It's like in a relationship. No sane person dates someone based solely on their potential. It's a waste of time. Who wants potential when there are others out there that already have whatever it is you want; give or take a few minor adjustments? And if you're an owner, you mean to tell me not only are you going to donate your time and a roster spot to potential, but you're going to pay to wait? Ha!

Speaking of Jermaine O'Neal, isn't it ironic that the team that held his hand, burped him and bought him ice cream for 3 years, now has to watch as he gets his grown man on in Indiana?

He's Exhibit A.

Yes, it's true that fundamentally, everyone is drafted based on what they might be. But I think I'd have an easier time figuring out what someone might be capable of if they're actually in an environment somewhat similar to what they might face in the future. High school guys are playing against 14 year olds that are 5'6, 140lbs. At least in college, they're playing against dudes with bodies slightly comparable to the 6'3, 190lb. points in the L. I'm really not trying to hear that Lil Davey might be the next Jordan because he dropped 60 on some kid that probably won't even play D-III ball.

But is it his fault if Davey wants to play in the NBA instead of getting pimped by a college whose classes he'll barely attend? Or an NCAA that OWNS him for 4 years? Heck, if I could have done what I want to do for the rest of my life right out of Van Buren High back in '02, I'd have bypassed college too. And I'm not even talking about a guaranteed million dollar a year deal to play a sport. Sure, these last soon to be 3 years have been great, but you can't miss what you never had. College isn't for everyone and I'm sure a few of us that finish will still end up coming home to our framed Bachelor's of Science after a hard day's work at Burger King.

Dear sportswriters and columnists,

This whole idea that these kids should go
to college because you care about their futures is ridiculous. Call a spade a
spade. You don't care. You don't give two ticks about whether or not dude gets
injured and ends up homeless because he skipped college, or any other sob story
you conjure up. As if 18 is the only point of entry into higher learning.

This isn't about education or having something to fall back on. Stop making
it seem as though somehow the percentage of black men attending 4 year
universities is going to skyrocket and the entire race is going to be better off
because everyone's going to school all of a sudden instead of playing ball
because you know, there are oh so many high schoolers being drafted into the NBA
in relation to the general population of black men. Right.

Education isn't the issue here. Colleges want their money making marquee names back and NBA owners are tired of babysitting. Dickie V would love to get the future LeBron's and KG's in the NCAA so he can get an upgrade from Hooters baaaybeee.

Because according to Dickie, when Luol Deng left Duke to get drafted by the Bulls, Coach K was the victim baaaybeee.

How dare Sebastian Telfair get a Blazers and Adidas contract instead of pressing for Rick Pitino baaaybeee?

Because Coach K, Dick, Rick and everyone affiliated with college basketball are all in the poor house, not making one cent off of these players.

Those radio shows, camps, appearances and multi year, multi million dollar contracts are all a figment of our imaginations baaaaybeee. Those licensing and television deals that bring the schools money while the kids have to watch how they breathe are all for the love of the game baaaybee.

Everyone, including O'Neal, brings up other sports like golf, tennis, hockey and baseball and questions why no one ever pushes for an age limit in those sports as Michelle Wie will probably soon be getting an extra zero in her account for every year of her life. Well gee, J.O., I dunno.

What I do know, is Major League Baseball, the only team sport mentioned since the NHL doesn't exist, actually has a real minor league system. Therefore, I am not forced to watch guys who don't belong at the pro level the same way I'm forced to watch them in the NBA. Maybe if the MLB didn't have the minors, and we had to watch 1st basemen on every team field like Jason Giambi on a regular basis people would be pushing for an age limit in baseball the same way they do when they watch dudes brick wide open 15 footers in the L.

While I believe that college would help some of these players develop their games before coming to the NBA, I don't believe it is fair to say college is a must, nor is it fair to penalize the ones who are capable, like the Amare's, LeBron's, Kobe's and KG's. But I could have waited a good 2 or 3 years to watch Eddy Curry, Tyson Chandler, JR Smith, Josh Smith, Shaun Livingston, etc.

Imagine if they could have been put in the minors for a while. And no, not that farce, the NBDL.

So to Jermaine O'Neal, please, understand that you are about 400 years late and that institutionalized racism is going nowhere. Should you choose to point it out every now and again, do something more than get on ESPN and complain about it. But I admire the fact that you, unlike so many of your overpaid peers, have a pulse. But you're still no Jim Brown or Muhammad Ali until you sacrifice something for the cause instead of pointing out the obvious.

To NBA players, here's an idea. How about instead of wearing your paycheck around your neck, you save some of that money and buy a team when you retire. Then you can run it your way instead of being like our next group of tumbleweeds; former NBA players.

Former NBA players, to you I ask, WTF? I hear about how some of you not named Magic want to individually own your own team, but are scared off by the $400 million price tags. Ummm, here's an idea. How about you put together your own groups of investors made up of former NBA players and try and buy a team that way? I know, some of you have tried and failed, but as many of you as there are, and as much as some of you complain about The Game These Days, one would think there would be a greater push. It's a sad day when Usher, Nelly and Jay-Z can buy stakes in teams, no matter how miniscule, but the people who actually played the game can't.

To the owners, please, pretty please, spend your money wisely. Geez. Fixing the arena is great.

So are all the half court shots, dance troups, giveaways and smokescreens. But not making the playoffs once again because you spent $100 million this year on 12 of the same player is not great. Neither is blacking out your own team for months in your own city, stupid.

Though, being the cynic I am, I would like to personally thank James Dolan and whoever's beefing with him over at Time Warner Cable for not subjecting Knick fans in Queens and Brooklyn to such a terrible, disheartening, underachieving, repulsive squad. It was great not having to watch the Knicks blow 4th quarter leads that 2 weeks that I was home last month. Dolan's probably saved a few lives by isolating the Knickerbockers to Cablevision. Less people jumping off bridges.

To the fans, I Hate You. You know I do. I just find you all really hard to like. However, please keep in mind that all NBA players are not evil, self-centered, hip-hop loving thugs who play basketball in between impregnating groupies, running up in the stands and dodging rape charges.

To David Stern, just once, I'd like to hear you answer a question. Really. Take the dancing shoes off for at least a day.

To the high school ballers who think they're better than LeBron, if they're dumb enough to offer, be smart enough to sign. Just don't be mad when I write that you suck.

Knicks/Liberty

Note: The following are just a few things the Knicks and Liberty have had in common over the years.

Originally posted on January 19, 2005.

Props to Queenie for the words of wisdom, as usual:

Seriously, this Knick bench reminds me a little of the Liberty. Look at Jerome Williams. Squint. Doesn't he start to look like D-Train? Ariza is what Sista Christon can become. And the coach is STILL clueless about all of the above.

Yeah, I noticed. The Knicks and Liberty have always resembled each other. Some years more than others. Now if only D-Train could get Jerome Williams minutes. Or if Ariza could shoot like Christon. And I've got a feeling neither coach will see 2006 at The World's Most Famous.

Exhibit A: 1999

Both teams had rollercoaster seasons, with the Liberty starting 7-9 and the Knicks being the 8th seed in the playoffs.

Both teams had a version of "The Shot" in the playoffs. Allan Houston's front rim, lucky bounce and Teresa Weatherspoon's half court prayer.

Both teams lost to a team from Texas in the Finals. The Knicks - San Antonio, the Liberty - Houston.

Exhibit B: Latrell Sprewell

If Teresa Weatherspoon and John Starks had a love child, it would be Spree.

Exhibit C: Sweaty Mummified Centers

Tari Phillips and Patrick Ewing both wrapped themselves from head to toe and left puddles of sweat on the court. Poor ball kids.

Exhibit D: ... General Managers

Layden and Blaze. Need I say more?

The comparisons between the Knicks and Liberty are endless.

Past and present.

Good and bad.

We could play this game all day.

Idle Thoughts On A Boring Saturday Afternoon

Originally posted on October 23, 2004.

Right about now, I'm eating a quarter pounder, listening to Mos Def's Ghetto Rock and staring at this absentee ballot I just got in the mail.

I think I'm the only person I know that knew Trick Daddy's Let's Go was a sample of Ozzy Osbourne's Crazy Train. How could any sports fan not know that?

Am I the only one utterly disturbed at this whole idea of implanting chips into human beings? I don't care what the reason is. That's just unnatural. And it just makes reading 1984 and watching The Jetsons all the more scary.

Can I tell you how good this burger is?

To everyone who told me this Mos Def album was disappointing: Just know that I will never listen to you folks again. And now I have to think back to any other advice you've given me and rush out to buy those albums too. Because evidently you have no taste in music or at the very least taste that is not comparable to mine. Needless to say I won't be trusting you anymore. All 10 of you.

I'm serious. This new Mos Def album might be my number 2 favorite album of the moment after Jean Grae's This Week. But all I was hearing for the last week or so was how Mos was doing an Andre 3000. Hardly, people. And I liked the Love Below from the minute I heard it.

First of all, was Mos not singing on Black On Both Sides?

Second, Mos's singing is far greater than Andre's.

Third, Andre rapped on like 2 songs on his album. At least Mos didn't completely abandon the flow.

Finally, Tweetyfan mentioned something real on wnbatalk.com in our discussion about hip hop. We keep holding artists to our standards and have the nerve to get mad when they express their art differently than we expected.

Why is it that we complain and complain about artists being repetitive and lacking growth and then get mad when they try something new? We call it stepping out of their comfort zone. I think it's more them stepping out of our comfort zone and the nice little box we shoved them in.

I'm not mad at Mos Def and Andre 3000. Thank God for true artists like them. Who says you've got to make just rap or just r&b or just rock or whatever? Why not just make music? And considering we created rock and roll, it irks me when black consumers get mad at a black artist for doing something other than rap or r&b. Or get mad at any artist under 40 for doing jazz or the blues. Or look at me funny for listening to it. Get outta here with that. You're missing out on a lot of great art with that mentality. Good music is good music.

Ghetto Rock and Modern Marvel alone made it money well spent.

Anyway, I've got this absentee ballot here with my name on it. I guess I'm supposed to fill in the ovals and stuff and send it back. You know I've got a problem with the fact that here I am trying to exercise my civic duty, and I've got to pay postage. Had to pay a whole 37 cents to mail in the application and now I've got to dig up another stamp to pay another 37 cents to send back the ballot or Puffy will roll up in his Bentley and make some fuss about voting or dying.

So I'm voting for the ketchup lady's husband. Though I did not know that Roger Calero and Michael Badnarik are running for president. I guess that negates my Anyone But Bush method of decision making. I was tempted to jump behind Nader, but umm, he just doesn't get it does he?

Since Ada L. Smith is running unopposed for NY State Senator, can I write my own name in? I mean, it's not like she's gonna lose.

I sincerely hope that by now, you've began to understand my warped state of mind and realize that I care a weee bit more about the issues than voting for the husband of the woman with ties to my favorite ketchup. Not that it matters, but just to make sure.

I'd rather leave that type of thinking to the people who are going out to vote because Puffy said it was cool.

So Mos Def's album just finished and the i-pod's on random. Just so happens to be playing my favorite catchy hook of the moment...

I'm from Neeww Yaaaawwwwwkkk.

Can't stand Ja Rule, can tolerate Fat Joe and kinda like Jadakiss, but for some reason I actually like this song. I don't have a hundred guns or a hundred clips and right about now I most definitely don't have a hundred ways to make a grip, but I can get real ignorant. But I am from Neeewww Yawwwwk. I wonder why they didn't ask me to be on this song? Ha. But really, I'm feeling the love for Queens in rap videos these days. Had Ja Rule shoot his video on 191st, LL at the Coliseum. Nice.

You know what? I take that back. It's not that I can't stand Ja Rule. I'm just sick of him doing crap like Wonderful. I need more New York New York. I know, "but what about that stuff you said about Mos Def and not placing artists in a box?" It's different. Ja keeps doing the same song over and calling it something different. Mos is being innovative. Ja has a formula for selling records. And while sell they do, they suck. Ashanti is no Lil Mo on those hooks. She's boring. I really liked Ja's first album while riding the Q43 from school to the Ave. back in high school. I even liked the next one. I believe that was the Rule 3:36 one. Wasn't as good, but it was kinda hot. Then him and Ashanti became freakin Ashford and Simpson without the talent.

Then 50 Cent blew up and everyone jumped on his bandwagon and hated Ja Rule. Now, I liked Get Rich..., and all 999 of the G-Unit mixtapes, but how do you just start hating a dude because some other rapper tells you to? Those same people that were saying Ja's wack and screaming G-Unit were loving him 2 weeks ago. And then 50 disses Ja in every song about the fact that he sings. Well what the heck was 21 Questions? P.I.M.P? Wanksta? If I Can't? The list goes on.

So now Ja comes back with New York New York and slowly but surely those same people are making excuses for why they started hating on him and are slipping off the 50 bandwagon. And let's not pretend like having Jadakiss and Fat Joe didn't help his cause. I swear rap fans can be so feeble minded at times. "Wait a minute, Joe and Kiss are on the joint with him? Well maybe he's not that wack. I mean if they wanted to do the song with him." This is all too much for me to keep up with. Far as I'm concerned, both 50 and Ja could put the mic down and my life would go on without skipping a beat. Wouldn't mind if 75% of these other rappers joined them.

Speaking of Murder Inc., that Lloyd guy? I dunno. Something about him bothers me.

Finished my burger. Should hold me over until I figure out what to get up and make for dinner.
Kick off your shoes Jump on the jockListen to the Jam Master as he starts to rock

The Lakers look really weird these days. Watched the preseason game last night. I think they'll make the playoffs.

J-A-Y are the letters of his name/Cutting and scratching are the aspects of his game

Kobe will probably average 35 a game. But the key to that team is going to be Lamar Odom. I think Lamar's one of the best overall players in the league. My Knicks keep talking about bringing Wally Szerhoweveryouspellit home, but I'd rather they had found a way to get Lamar way back when.

In '84 he'll be a little faster/And only practice makes a real Jam Master

Or Ron Artest. Fredric Weis anyone? And they wondered why we hated Scott Layden? Fredric Weis will forever be remembered for 2 things. "I'm not ready" and being the dude literally underneath Vince Carter.

I liiiiiiike the waaaaaaay you kisss me when we're playing the kissing game....

I'm seaching for a poster of John Starks' infamous dunk over Horace Grant and Michael Jordan.

That's what I want for Christmas. A nice huge blowup of my favorite moment in Knicks history by my favorite Knick of all time. To this day I love to hear Jordan fans say John only threw it down on Grant. Ha.

Slow motion like a dream/But real time is what it seems

I have already decided who I want the next WNBA Commisioner to be. Laura Bush. Not because I sincerely hope she's not living in D.C. come January and am depending on her to be available by the February 1st deadline. No, I think we need a nice straight motherly influence to run our league. And after reading the GQ article in the issue with Lohan on the cover, I think she's perfect for the job.

But it was just my imagination...

But seriously, I don't know if the WNBA is really looking for specifically a straight, married mother. Wouldn't surprise me, but I don't think about it that hard. As I said yesterday, Ackerman did a great job and I hope they find someone who can do an even better one.

Hoooold my hand...

There was for once a great feature on wnba.com about what players would do if they were President of the US. I think if the W is smart, they'll follow that one up by asking the players what they would do if they were President of the W. I mean, it's only right.

Oh, btw, we haven't given Teresa Weatherspoon a shout out in a minute here on Hip Hop Is Dead...But Anyway. So there it goes. Like how I say we, like there's more than 1 of me? I'm crazy I tell, ya.

But anyway, I for one appreciated her answer on what she would do if she were prez of the country. "Everybody would be ok." Nice, simple, to the point, but at the same time relative and lacking commitment. I'd advise her to run for office immeeejiatly. All the other players either wanted raises, education reform, do away with taxes, nice sappy stuff like that. Spoon just got to the point by giving everything and nothing at the same time. That's just how us Americans like it. Make it sound good and keep it simple. Word.

I wanna be loved/There's nothing bettttterrr than love/What in the world could you evvVER be thinking of/It's better by faaar/So let yourself reeeach for that staaar/And go no matter how faaaaar /Tooooo the one you lovvvve

Cheryl Ford's answer is what our current president seems to do. Anna DeForge's answer is what people like me wish he would have done a long time ago.

Kara Lawson not wanting to change anything based on what's currently going on scares me.She may want to give Tina Thompson, Swin Cash or Nykesha Sales a call.

Spoon, Ruth Riley and Nikki Teasley have missed their political callings.

And I'd love to ask Natalie Williams, Nikki McCray and Diana "Read My Lips" Taurasi where this money's coming from.

Am I the only one that wonders what version of the Matrix Jay-Z watched when he spits his red or green pill line in Excuse Me Miss?

I know I'm not the only one that wishes it would either stay warm or just get cold already.

Anyway, I'm going to go vote.

But just in case you were wondering, we have listened to:

Mos Def's whole new album, The New Danger

Ja Rule's New York, New York

Run DMC's Jam Master Jay

Hi-Five's I Like

NERD's The Way She Dances

The Temptations' Just My Imagination

Van Hunt's Hold My Hand

Luther Vandross and Gregory Hines' classic There's Nothing Better Than Love duet

Jay-Z's Excuse Me Miss and currently playing, Quincy Jones' For Lena and Lennie
on this wonderful excursion through my idle mind on a boring Saturday afternoon.

It is Saturday right?

Live Strong

Note: Nope, I no longer wear the stupid bracelet.

Originally posted on September 23, 2004.

...

So there are what? 260 million people in America?

I'd say 259,999,999 million have those friggin yellow Livestrong bracelets.
Myself included.

But I've had mine since they first came out.

Back when they were trying to give them away. What can I say? I like being exclusive.
But that's not the point. This is important.

It bothers me that this has become a trend.

I hate trends. Because they kill anything meaningful.

I cringe at popular music. Because popular killed hip hop.

I ignore popular people. Ok I ignore everyone.

And I get homicidal when everyone begins to look alike because they're wearing whatever the
flavor of the month is.

White t-shirts.

Throwbacks.

Low-rise jeans.

Cross Colors.

But now call me conflicted. And mad.

My non conformist, non committal, -let me be different because I wanna be- self should not have to change because everyone else is late.

I finally committ to a cause, a worthy one at that and everyone else is tipping over the bandwagon.

Normally, I'd chalk this up as a loss, put the bracelet in the drawer never to be worn again and keep it moving.

But understand, this Livestrong thing is dear to me.

My grandmother battled cancer for the last years of her life.

I miss her everyday, but this time of year is always hard since it is the time of year that she passed 2 years ago compounded by the holidays and her birthday. I know it's only September, but Granny Ma celebrated every holiday and started early.

September for all intents and purposes begins the school year.

My grandmother was a college professor at New York City Tech for 20 some odd years.
I got to go to school with her all the time growing up.

But a week into my freshman year of college, she was in the hospital.

A month into it, she was gone.

She preached the importance of book sense and common sense.

Not having her around to celebrate last semester's 4.0 and my ever blossoming independence put an extreme damper on the accomplishments.

In some ways the 4.0 made it even worse because I knew how proud it would have made her.

I can't even watch Blow, Little House on the Prairie, game shows or NBC4 in NY's 5 o'clock news without tearing up.

Yes Blow. My Granny Ma was grimey and loved bad movies.

We spent entire days, weekends and summers together just chilling.

48 years apart and we had more to talk about than I ever have with anyone my own age.

I know everyone has their time, but in my mind, cancer took my grandmother, my buddy, my rock and my voice of reason away.

It made her and everyone around her miserable.

Not only that, but it made her suffer immeasurable physical and emotional pain. I doubt I have, or will ever feel as helpless as knowing there was nothing I could do to get rid of it.

Every time it left, it came back.

No cure, just medicine and treatment that made her feel worse.

I wouldn't wish that pain on anyone or any family.

So when I see someone in their car, cigarette hanging out their mouths, with a Livestrong bracelet on, the cynic in me wonders how much of a trend whore this person is.

Do they have one of those singing fish hanging in their living room with a chia pet on the coffee table?

I get it.

They're promoting cancer survivors because they're hoping to survive it.

Understandable.

Dumb. But understandable.

I don't run into burning buildings just so I can survive a fire.

My grandmother was a smoker.

My favorite teacher, Mr. Lewis is a smoker.

Back in my 8th and 9th grade social studies classes, he used to say smokers aren't bad people whenever one of us saw him puffing outside during recess. That everyone does dumb things. That when people like him and my grandmother started, no one knew what they know now. That he wished he could quit and he'd kill any of us if he saw us repeating his mistake. And that Elvis is still alive.

I'm not one of those crazed PETA people with the animals. I'm not going to throw paint in people's faces because they smoke. Go fur. Eat a burger.

I don't start to cry and scream whenever I see someone smoking.

I think those Truth commercials are stupid.

If you want to smoke you will. And go right ahead. It's good for the economy. Let it burn.
I have absolutely no problem with smokers so long as they exhale that way. ----------->

And don't cause 2am building evacuations on a rainy Richmond Tuesday morning because they fell asleep with a burning stick hanging out their mouths.
I have an 8am class on Tuesday and I'm cranky without my sanity rest.

I just think it's extremely ironic to give yourself cancer and wear an anti cancer bracelet.

Consider this.

I can live a healthy lifestyle for the rest of my life and get cancer.

Cancer can kill me just like it did my grandmother and I don't have to smoke for 40 seconds. Forget 40 years.

So I want someone to find a cure for cancer. For everything.
For everyone.

To me, my grandmother and my family are cancer survivors.

My grandmother was a survivor because she never stopped fighting.

She never let cancer take away her dignity, her sarcastic wit or her smile.

Even when she was depressed.

Lance Armstrong was an inspiration. And I don't even like cycling.

So I wear my Livestrong bracelet.

But I hate the fact that something that has such meaning is quickly becoming so trivialized as wearing the bracelet because you've got on a yellow shirt or because all your friends have one.

My cynicism is quelled by the fact that the donations from the sale of the bracelets have gone to such a worthy cause.

The ironic thing is that even if these people don't know what the bracelet means or are just following the trend, they either have or will be affected by cancer in some way. So I guess that's a good thing.

I just hate seeing them everywhere.

I hate being in the loop.

I hate the fact that when this trend is over, the cause might go in the trash right along with the bracelet.

Break It Down

Note: The following is a rant basically. But I was pretty entertained looking back on it. I editted the original post down to the actual ranting part.

Originally posted on June 6, 2004.

Jay-Z's not the greatest of all time and the Blueprint 2 was trash, but I still like him and I've still bought every album since Reasonable Doubt. The legit, non bootleg and non downloaded, not counting the Blueprint 2 re-release. (Did anyone buy that? Hov was really reaching)

John Starks went 3 for 90 in game 7 of the NBA Finals and broke my heart in the 3rd grade, but I still love him.

And1's Headache and Alimoe never made it to the league and I think the whole streetball "tour" thing is overrated now, but I still got love for them regardless.

I have made it my business to see every Edward Norton movie since American History X.

Spoon...gets blind loyalty. I've actually interacted with Spoon for longer than your typical "shove my piece of paper in your face so you can scribble 2 lines on it without even looking at me," so of course I'm not exactly going to care when she plays 3 assistless minutes at this point in her career.

...


She's my favorite person in the WNBA. She's not my favorite player because [at this point in her career] I don't care how she plays. It's not going to change her past greatness or her great personality.

So all the WNBA zealots save me the retirement talk, the traitor talk, the shoot the ball talk, and all the other overdramatic crap.

Unlike most fans, I don't say that I'm unbiased. Of course I'm biased. Thats what fans are.

I've come to learn that people who post on sports message boards are a lot like people who send letters to the editor, or call the local radio station. They post because they feel strongly on a topic. They rarely have a middle ground, and sometimes, rarely have any sense.

So it should be understood that they are usually so set in their beliefs in the first place that they aren't willing to see things from a different persepective.

I'll just lurk, thank you very much.

...

There are some great blogs out there...

On these 2 [editted out] sites, there's no ridiculous arguing, no flaming, no cliques, no delusions of grandeur, no player bashing as if they themselves can go out there and do better, no head splitting grammatical errors, no bitterness disguised as team loyalty, no ego feeding, no hypocrisy, and no hateration or holleration in this danceree.

Both are very well organized, so even if there was negativity, you could easily ignore the idiots.

Both are filled with individual thought and insight without the know-it-all attitude.

No people claiming to know someone when they really (and many times obviously) don't. Really, who cares who you know; you're invisible.

No assuming about the personal lives of players or assuming players are the same way off the court as they are on it.

No forgetting that these people are also human and may have computer literate friends and family.

...

I Need Space...

Note: This one has been editted since I don't really feel the same way about the subject as I did when I first wrote it. So due to lack of relevancy, I editted it to reflect closer to my current feelings. It's also got the play by play of the infamous Father's Day Card Story.

Originally posted on March 31, 2004.

New York Liberty tickets went on sale yesterday. I'll be going to 2 games, hopefully.

Coincidently, they happen to be against the Sparks. One preseason in May, one regular season, about a month later. I probably won't go to any others unless the Liberty somehow meet the Sparks in the finals. I've seen stranger more far fetched things happen, don't laugh.

I know I said coincidently, but I lied. It's not a coincidence that the only games I want to go to are against the Sparks. It's no coincidence that I am not scheduling my summer around the Liberty this year they way I did the past 2 summers. I always rooted for the Liberty because they were the NY team. But in 7 years, they've given me more heartache than the Knicks have in 20. I'm an Aries, I love hard. Happy Birthday to me by the way(3/29).

So as I did with the Knicks, I need a breather. That means no memorabilia decorating the walls, no staying up late to watch or listen to games while they're on their west coast road trip, no team t-shirts for every day of the week, no more letting a basketball game ruin my mood. I need some space.

Now that Teresa Weatherspoon is in LA, I no longer feel guilty. I can scream it from the top of my lungs, the Liberty are BORING. I no longer have to hide the fact that even though I'm a huge Spoon fan and want her to win a ring, I was so elated that the Liberty didn't make the playoffs. Some things just should not be televised and the Liberty's offense is one of those things.

Last season, I often found myself surveying the crowd, reading the media guide again, daydreaming or cracking jokes with my little brother while the Liberty made the Mike Fratello Cavs of the mid 90's look like today's Sacramento Kings on the offensive end. Hate to be the cornball I sometimes am, but the Liberty's offense was offensive.

I had to hide my disappointment for two reasons. One was knowing how much my mother spent for tickets and since she cut down the money tree in the backyard, we no longer have money to burn. The other was my loyalty to Spoon and VJ. It is the same reason I couldn't dare to contemplate turning my back on the Knicks until Patrick Ewing and John Starks were gone.

Knick games were the highlight of my day. I watched every game. Rushed to finish my homework before the 7pm pregame show with Al Trautwig, ate dinner parked in front of the living room tv, watched the first half, rushed and did the dishes during halftime, got back in front of the tv in time for the 2nd half and cheered my Knicks to victory. Then without failure, I went to bed, either very happy or very upset. Patrick Ewing, John Starks, Charles Oakley, Anthony Mason, Pat Riley, Jeff Van Gundy, Derek Harper, Chris Childs, they were family. I cried when Starks got traded. It was the end of an era. An electrifying, emotional, resilient representative of everything NY, even if he was from Oklahoma or wherever, was gone.

I was still a Knick fan because that's what real fans do, but I started paying a little more attention to this Liberty team. Spoon quickly became my John Starks reloaded. They had the same electric, magnetic, intense game and personality on the floor and seemed to be just as likeable off it. The only difference was, that as many shots as Starks took, Spoon passed up.

There may have been better players, but Spoon was the most exciting even when she wasn't on the floor.

Now, I was doing the same routine for Liberty games that I had done during the NBA season. Eventually, my mother sensed my devotion and became a season ticket holder. Every game, without fail, I rooted for the Liberty and rooted extra hard for #11 the way I did #3. Every loss, I felt. '99 was an especially tough year, since both the Knicks and Liberty lost to Texas teams in the finals after a career defining shot.

But last season, it seemed to all make sense. All of the years of rooting for Starks and Spoon seemed to pay off.

As usual, my brother and I went to the Liberty game vs. the LA Sparks and hung out afterwards. We then realized it was the day before Father's Day. Since it takes the players FOREVER to come out after games, we knew we could head over to Manhattan Mall for a few and still be back in time for our tradition of making sure our Liberty girls were not fashion misfits. No, we're not the crazed, get trampled for an autograph types. We've gotten a few, but on our own terms. The most we usually ever do is make eye contact with the players and give them a nod or if we're close enough a handshake and a few words.

So we went to the mall and picked up a card and a gift and made it back to our usual spots in front of Tupelo's. Like always, when Spoon comes out after making those crazed, get trampled types wait for long over an hour, there's a bumrush at the Player's Exit, which is how my brother and I know it's her.

So she comes out, does the Hancock, says cheese about 99 times, walks and talks, gives a few pounds and is on her way to the lot.

My brother then says aloud what I was thinking. We should get her to sign the Father's Day card. Now mind you, my dad is not a women's basketball fan, or at least he won't admit it, but for some reason he's always given Spoon love. It's not that he's sexist, or maybe he is, but for some reason the WNBA's never been his thing. But Spoon seemed to have some type of advantage. Why, I don't know, but we figured it would be a cool gift for him.

So we make our way up the block to Spoon, get her attention and ask her to sign the card. With her signature smile she said sure, no problem. Yes problem, no pen.

But thanks to Tamika Whitmore, that problem was solved. Spoon wrote a nice message to Pops, signed the card, and could have kept it moving, without fault, but she didn't. Instead, she hung out and joked around with us for a while.

It wasn't as if I was speaking to some sort of celebrity or some woman who's played ball across the globe, represented her country in the Olympics, been an ambassador for women's athletics, or a role model who's been in rap videos, and hangs with superstars.

It was as if I was talking to a regular person who knew regardless of everything she's accomplished, she's just that, a regular person.

It also felt good to have the one athlete that liked even more about off the court than I did on it, other than Starks, treat my brother and I as if she was genuinely happy to be in our presence and not that we were holding her up or wasting her time. She was a cross between a gracious athlete and the cool mentor at the local gym. She treated us like we were 2 people she knew rolling up on her in the middle of the block. Maybe it was our approach.

Since I'm a cynic who usually doesn't do autographs, for any person who isn't signing a blank check, that was refreshing. In an age where everyone thinks they're a superstar and everyone's Hollywood, Spoon's down to earth attitude was very much appreciated. This was after a tough loss during probably her toughest season, no less.

Pops loved the card. It was the only card he's ever actually looked at for more than 3 seconds. It still rests on top of the mantle in the living room in full view and everyone who asks about it gets the story.

So now that Spoon's in LA, I can keep it real. It's not a coincidence that now that Spoon's gone, I need space. It is an odd coincidence that Spoon is now an LA Spark, the same team that beat the Liberty that day last June when we got the card signed.

...

Wow

Originally posted on July 22, 2004.

Saw Prince in concert Tuesday night (7/20 @ Nassau Coliseum).

The greatest musical experience of my entire life. And I live and breathe music.

I'm not, or should I say, I wasn't the biggest Prince fan before. I liked his music and respected his artistic genius, but I was thoroughly impressed Tuesday night. And I'm just not the excitement type.

It was bittersweet though. On the one hand, it was a show that I doubt anyone from any generation could have pulled off other than Prince. Words cannot express how great he and the NPG truly were.

But it was sad because I realize there is absolutely no performer from my generation that even cares enough about their craft to put anywhere near as much heart and effort into perfecting it as Prince has.

The ones who do seem to care a little bit, just don't have the talent or the charisma to pull it off and they know it, so they mask their insecurity through contrived cockiness.

I hate to even call these people performers. And the worst part about it is people pay for this crap. Insert puzzled face here.

What happens when the Prince's of the world stop performing? I won't be at a 50 Cent concert 20 years from now the way my mother was going down memory lane with Prince.

Mary J. Blige screams and hollers, which is good if you're into that sort of thing.

Alicia Keys is ok, but doesn't command the stage.

Beyonce is ok, but if I wanted to see the video, I'd watch it at home and save $80.

Usher, please. Would there be enough room in the arena for the fans and his head? Anyone that cocky should at least play an instrument and all that popping and locking and Michael Jackson-ing has been done before. I don't know if I could stand him for 20 minutes, forget 2 and a half hours.

And if he decided to show up an hour after scheduled start time as Prince did, I would have been gone 59 minutes and 37 seconds before he got on stage.

R. Kelly gets boring after a while and pondering which songs are about 12 year olds is not my idea of a good time.

The only hip hop shows I would pay to see would have to include the incomparable Roots, or Mos Def, Common, etc. Or some old school performers or underground acts who don't try to ice grill me into liking their songs.

Rap is a non issue in this. Let's not even go there since 50 screaming sweaty men on one stage scares me.

In an inaudible voice not realizing that I have a mic for a reason and don't have to scream:
"THROW YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR AND WAVE EM LIKE YOU JUST DON'T CARE....NOW SCREEEEAAAAAM" Point mic out to the crowd, grab crotch and insert hoe, b**ch, n**** or other form of degredation here while the crowd sings along to my mindless ignorant stupidity.

Rock is not my thing, per se, but I could see myself going to a rock concert before a rap concert.

Me'shell Ndegeocello is amazing, but isn't the well known sold out show comodity that is needed to make someone, anyone, step their game up. I'd love for her to get the recognition that she deserves, but if they're not up on her now, too bad. Their loss. Everybody doesn't have to be mainstream. And since mainstream is becoming synonomous for crap, that's a good thing.

In the words of Phife, "I'll never let a statue tell me how nice I am"

I don't let sales or spins tell me who I'm supposed to listen to, so I really don't care if you sell 2 or 2 million.

But some of these neo-soul acts are coming off just as fake, corny, contrived and boring as the booty shaking video hoe accessorized rappers and thug wannabe potty mouthed talentless singers.

Andre 3000 is great and I've loved him since Elevators and Player's Ball all the way up to Roses and Prototype, but he reminds me too much of Prince nowadays and since I've already seen Prince....... Why buy a BMW when you can afford a Rolls?

Andre and Lenny aren't worth my baller on a budget money anyway.

Janet's live show fell off bad. The robotic moves should have went out with Rhythm Nation, but that doesn't stop Britney from biting. I'd still rather watch Janet than most other performers even if her live singing does look like a bad Karate flick.

Janet doesn't count in this anyway.

It's too hot to be on this soapbox for too long, so I'll just leave it at this and pray for someone to come along who actually cares about the music, has the appeal and most importantly, the talent.

Until then, I will probably have to wait a while before I attend another concert since I'm willing to bet that none will ever be as good as the one His Royal Purpleness put on that hot July 20th, 2004 night.

The blog changes to purple, and the Purple Rain soundtrack gets cued up on the i-pod.

Too bad more of my generation isn't up on this Musicology.

Back to ball tomorrow. IT'S TOO HOTTTT!!!

I Got Questions/If I Ruled The World

Note: This is a two part series on what I would do to improve certain things in the W. Some suggestions are still relevant...some aren't. Look for an updated, more realistic version in the future on Common Sense Isn't Common.

Originally posted on April 6, 2004.

WNBA training camp begins on April 25th and I have a few questions for the Commish:

Why does the league act as if all its players are cornballs with no lives outside of basketball?

Why doesn't the league realize that the steady increase in the level of play and talent will increase ratings and attendance and not dumb vogue commercials with no substance and the players looking awkward and uncomfortable?

Why does it seem that if a player isn't a mother and/or married, the only people who get interviewed during those fluff pieces are siblings, parents and coaches? Do WNBA players not have friends?

Why is it that I can watch 7 years of interviews about the same 5 players and still feel that I know nothing about them? But then I can talk to a friend of a player for 7 minutes and be amazed at how interesting the player is, and not in a gossipy way, just a general knowledge way, you know, beyond what their favorite food is.

If a player stood up for anything controversial the way athletes did in the 60's, would that player suddenly cease to exist in those ridiculous promotional campaigns?

Why does the league treat us straight fans as if we're all idiotic homophobes who can't handle the fact that our favorite player might be gay?

Along those lines, is it safe to say that the league office would be in an uproar if a star player discussed their sexuality in an uncensored magazine interview? Or just did an uncensored non fluff piece in the first place?

Can you put a G rating on your website to once and for all let all of us over 13 realize that no matter how many times we visit it and pray otherwise, it sucks.

Can we ask players 20 good questions?

When will the WNBA wake up and jump on the reality tv bandwagon? Why do I feel that unfortunately, even this show would be so editted that once again, the most interesting players would only come across as lifeless basketball junkies?

Can someone answer my questions?


Originally posted on April 9, 2004.

If I was WNBA Commissioner, que dreamy music.....

At least 50 game seasons......the current season is too short.

Keep the current 13 teams, or add at most 1 more team to even it out.....Stop expanding in places with no fan base.

Better music in the arenas....no MTV, play stuff that would hype up the players and the fans.

Change the playoff format. The top 7 teams make the playoffs, regardless of conference, with the team with the best league record receiving a 1st round bye....I want to see the best teams in the league play when it matters most and the WNBA's eastern conference was about as good as the NBA's.

Change the uniforms....jerseys are meant to be tucked in.

Scrap the vogue commercials.....they stink, they're pointless and nobody cares.

Instead, we could have gasp, highlights of them actually playing.....what a concept. A tried and true concept.

You want to get creative, have a song people actually like playing in the background. One that relates to whatever's going on in the highlight. If it's a clip full of defensive plays, have a hard rap or rock instrumental. If it's jump shots, show the shots in slow motion with a slow r&b or jazz instrumental.

Get rid of that dumb sneaker rule.....Make it interesting, it'll spice up endorsements.

Charter flights....increase league moral, every owner has at least one pj anyway. That's private jet for all you small money folks out there. bwaaaaaaaaaahhhhh I crack my broke self up sometimes.

Advertise to everyone.....Since when do morals get in the way of making money in this country. It's all green. Go after all that disposable income.

Get a good gimmick....This Is Who I Am is not the move.

Better arena giveaways.....I don't need a lunchbox.

More organized events with players, some catered to kids, some catered to adults, but make the players accesible at these events, not just fish in a fishbowl.......Let the players and fans interact in their comfort zones, no autographs, just chill.

Better organization.....don't send the media guides out 2 weeks before or after the season starts. What kind of sense does that make?

Better refs....these suck.

Hear the streets......I can count maybe 5 players in the league now with street credibility. Stop acting like that kid in Nebraska or Jane All American are your only types of fans.

Qualified coaches....not just NBA rejects, wannabes, used to be's and never will be's. Cooper, Laimbeer, they're great, and they're the exception. The W in WNBA should extend to the coaching staffs and the front office. There are many qualified women and the players don't deserve to be treated as a stepping stone.

Take a more grassroots approach to advertising....the NBA is 50 something. What works for them won't work for you.

Inspire better media coverage......the AP for all road games thing sucks.

Promote the best players and personalities....but realize that there are more than 10 of them.

Better merchandise....I would never walk out the house with some of the stuff you all put out there.

Better announcers....half the ones you have now can't even pronounce the player's names.

Behind the scenes reality show.....what are the players really like. Lisa Leslie's probably the only one that can front for 18 hours a day for an entire season.

Have every team have tryouts in their local areas that only players from that particular area can attend, regardless of whether they went to college or not....even if they don't make it, get the community involved. Give people opportunities. You might find a player that can impact your team, but for whatever reason didn't take the traditional route.

Have winter All-Star games for charity....give back and remind people you exist in December.

Change the format of the real All-Star game.

12 players from each conference:

2 straight up fan favorite picks
the best player at every position (5)
the most improved
the unsung hero
the coaches pick
2 vets over 33

And last, for now....encourage the differences in players' personalities. Let them be who they are instead of corporate puppets. Let them do interviews live or in print that have nothing to do with the WNBA and more with who they are as people.

Booooooo

Note: I swear I have nothing but love for Ann Meyers. I just hate her commentating.

Originally published June 7, 2004.

Can someone cut her mic off?

I'm serious. Ann Meyers is annoying. So yeah she was a great player and an ambassador to the game, she sucks as a commentator. In my campaign to make the world a better place, she would be the first announcer in any sport in any league that I would personally fire without mercy.

Kevin Harlan and Tom Tolbert are close seconds which tells you what high regard I hold her in.

Where do I begin to count the reasons she makes me want to puke and mute at the same time?

Is it the endless Lisa Leslie groveling disguised as praise?

Is it the endless allusions to her career that have "I need attention" written all over them?

Is it the endless feet kissing of Laimbeer and Auriema?

Is it the endless repetitiveness and lack of substance with which she commentates?

Is it the endless whining about today's game and comparisons to the men's game?

All of that is annoying, but not nearly as bad as her wardrobe. Oh my goodness. Before she berates another player on air for any reason, she should look in the mirror. Those who wear lime green ensembles shouldn't throw stones.

Before ABC cut into the game without bothering to tell anyone their ESPN affiliate picked it up, Meyers was commentating, along with Doris Burke(more on her later) and some other guy who I can't remember but thankfully is nowhere near as annoying as Mark Jones.

While LA was winning, you would have thought Lisa Leslie was one of the 12 Disciples. Meyers, as usual, kept going on and on and on about how great Lisa is, blah, blah, blah, blah. Shaaaadup already.

Soon as they start losing, it's everyone's fault but Lisa's. Lisa brings out mixed emotions from my side of things, with me even going as far as to dub her Omalisa. I'm not really a fan but even

I can respect greatness. But Meyers takes it to whole new brown levels. She must walk around with a shovel.

The entire game was also spent discussing Nikki Teasley's maturity, or lack thereof. Gimmie a break. Her and Doris kept lamenting the fact that Nikki lacks the maturity to lead LA and must find it for them to be successful.

...


It's like, they find one or two things to bark on and ride it for an entire game. It's annoying. How about we talk about Houston, you know, the other team playing the game.

Then there was Connecticut vs. Phoenix to tip off the season a few weeks ago. What a train wreck. Not only did the game bore me to tears, I thought Ann was going to tell us what kind of deodorant Diana Taurasi uses. I expect Geno to spend the game talking about his former player, but Ann acted like Diana was passing to herself, shooting the ball, getting the rebound and running back down the other end to defend herself. I'm sure Geno already knows how wonderful he is in his own mind; Ann was acting like she was going to follow him back to his hotel room.

Next was Detroit vs. LA. Another sleeper. But here comes Ann to tell us how incredible Bill Laimbeer is. Until his team started losing. Then it became how wonderful Michael Cooper is. When LA was losing, the excuses were neverending. "They're tired." "They're road weary." Shaaadaaaap

Spoon comes in the game all of 5 minutes and somebody done started Motor Mouth Meyers. For the next 4:59, we had to hear about how Spoon can't shoot, she can't do this, she can't do that.

Then Greg and Mark had to get in on it, but at least Greg was actually explaining instead of whining and providing perspective instead of just being annoying, and Mark, well Mark can't help but to be a cornball. And when Greg and Mark got off the subject, Ann's got to bring it back up.

Stop the presses!!!!!!! Spoon's not an offensive threat? Who knew?!!!!!!! Stop playing!! Word?! For real Ann?

Yo Ann, there's 9 other players on the court. How about we focus on one, or three, of them who aren't 38 and a shadow of their former selves. Or better yet, if we're going to focus on Spoon, how about we put her tenure in LA into its proper perspective and stop acting like she's supposed to go out there and drop 30 and 10 in 3 minutes. Ann's always got some snide comment about Spoon. Her favorite being, "And then you go committ the silly foul." Hun, Lisa fouled out and you blamed fatigue. But then Lisa's royalty, so it wasn't her fault that she had more fouls and turnovers than field goals. She was tired.

There was the one last year alluding to the fact that because players are fan favorites they're harder to trade. No, Ann, because players are at that time, 37 year old fan favorites they are hard to trade. If your buddy Blaze wanted to trade Spoon, she had the opportunity to do so.

Fans find new favorites. Spare us the sob story. If I didn't know any better, I'd think Spoon owed Ann money. She sounds like the never satisfied chain smoking sweaty father watching his son play baseball.

The Seattle vs. Phoenix game was just atrocious. Taurasi and Bird are officially the greatest thing since Lisa Leslie, who is the greatest thing since girls were allowed to dribble accroding to Ann. I got lucky. The game stunk the first half and was a blowout the 2nd, which thankfully allowed me to turn the channel without a blow to my fandom.

Then there's good ol' Doris "UCONN" Burke. She used to be the best since Robin Roberts. I hate to say it, but she's becoming Ann Jr. She's fine when she's doing the game with Vera Jones, Michelle Tafoya, or Gus Johnson, but put her with Ann and it's just one big craptacular. Would she please stop making that awful noise mmmmhhhmmmm as if someone just put a plate of apple pie in front of her and she's going to dig in on the air.

She isn't nearly as bad as Meyers, but she's taking a turn for the worse.

Nancy Lieberman may have her faults, but at least she's funny and amusing and we don't have to listen to her for an entire game.

Somebody please just unplug Ann Meyer's mic and never let her commentate another game again.

For the sake of all that is right in the WNBA.

Oh yeah, hey Ann, how about some love for Lauren Jackson? Name one thing Lisa can do that Lo-Jack can't.

The sob fest in the New York Times last season about why fans don't like Lisa solidified Ann as Lisa's personal towel girl. "I have no clue why fans don't like Lisa." Ann, besides the cheap elbows, funny shorts and lack of respect for opponents, maybe fans don't like Lisa because of commentators like you who feel the need to tell us how incredibly wonderful, splendiforous and amaaaaaaaaazing she is non stop for 2 hours. Or it could be the whole "reigning MVP" thing you like to do, even when she isn't the person who won the award last year. Nobody calls Jimmy Carter the current president.

"And when I played with the Pacers........"

I swear Ann Meyers must be a Stepford Wife. From the clothes down to that fake phoney squint chipmunk smile thing she does whenever the camera's on her.

Somebody cut her mic off.