Tuesday, January 09, 2007

Won't say sorry when she offends....

Well, I am sad to report that watching spiders, yes, even loopy spiders, has sufficiently skeeved me out way too much for me to be able to sleep.
Luckily, tomorrow is only the 2nd day of school and I don't have class until 11. So I'm gonna watch "The Producers" and write a bit about my favorite board-busting geriatric since Michael Cage, Uncle Cliffy.

A couple days ago, NetsDaily under one item posted 2 links to 2 different Uncle Cliffy-related stories. Usually the different crap under same headings are somewhat related. These though...not so much.

The first story is of the light-hearted variety, tracking the history of the headband usage by His Cliffyness. It even gets into the history a bit, noting that Slick Watts tried wrapping duct tape around his head before realizing that hey, there might be a better way to do this.... It's a bit of a strange tale, and really ages The Spliff, as headbands were apparently seen as rather uncool at the time, and his first NBA-worn headbands happened to fasten with freaking VELCRO. But it's cute. Yet I'm slightly disappointed by the weak trash talk thrown around the Association back in Medieval Times.
That did not spare him from heckling.
“I used to get killed,” Robinson said.
He heard comments like, “Take that stupid headband off,” or “You look ridiculous in that headband.”
“I heard a little bit of everything,” Robinson said.

That was way harsh, Tai.
Or, in the alternative, "Hazel really puts your mother to shame."
Either way, many before-my-time props to Cliffy for being a motherfuckin trend-setter.
May I formally request he be the one to finally bring the flat-top back???

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While we're here, Robinson's Wikipedia page mentions something about an "on-court dance of the same name [Uncle Cliffy]." Unfortunately, a quick perusal of Youtube/Google/etc. has turned up nothing and much sadness was felt throughout the land of Becky. The best I could do was some German/Austrian/Swiss...something. This will not do. Populär gemacht indeed.

The 2nd Cliffy article was really a much more broad article in the Daily News the other day, inspired by the Darrent Williams tragedy. It's actually a very, I think, quality read about how certain cities are much more dangerous for athletes based upon the types of markets their teams are in. A couple of the dudes interviewed for the column point out that in a huge city like NYC, athletes can go out to the clubs and aren't necessarily a spectacle because there are also rock stars and movie stars and washed up pop stars flashing vag. But, they explain, in a city such as Denver, athletes are the biggest celebs and, as Brandon Short says, the "big dogs in town." The socio-economics also come into play, as always, and really, just go give it a read. I'm surprised to be saying it myself about something I read in the freaking NY Daily News, but it's multi-faceted and quite interesting. Not to mention there is a nice city-by-city breakdown at the end that is a little bit thought-provoking, if nothing else. I will say this- the day after Williams was killed, my best friend pointed out the Julius Hodge incident wasn't too far away and posited it had something to do with Denver. I'm sure it's a bigger issue, but...well yeah.

To go on this same theme but to lighten it up and stay on track w/ the Cliffyness of the post...
A mature athlete simply knows he can't afford to fight anyone, says the Nets' Cliff Robinson, a 17-year veteran who started his career with his own cautionary tale.
During his rookie season, Robinson hit a female police officer in the head as she and her partner tried to break up a fight outside a Portland bar at 3:30 a.m.
"That stigma of being a troublesome guy stays with you a long time," he says. Robinson was in a well-known troublespot that night and has long said he reacted to a mouthy patron when the fight began. "You learn you have to be careful of what you say to people, and when they say something to you, you have to be able to walk away," he says.

Well...I'm not sure bitch-slapping Officer Sugartits is entirely the same thing, Cliff. But point noted. I don't like mouthy patrons either.

Just for the record, the illustrious RJ was also questioned.... He comes through with the typical goody two-shoes response, of COURSE:
Some cities might have reputations for being more dangerous, but the Nets' Richard Jefferson says it doesn't matter where a professional athlete goes if he makes poor decisions.
"There aren't many clubs in the country that don't have VIP areas" to separate the fans from the famous, he says. "Trouble's going to find you."

Sorry RJ, but something tells me most athletes don't adore the Meatpacking District as much as you do. Or, you know, at ALL.

And in case anyone was really wondering what hardships were faced by morally grounded kickers...
"You get caught up a lot of times in old relationships you had before. A lot of guys can't cut loose those relationships because they're their boys, their friends. They're worried people are going to say, 'You big-timed us.'"
Feeley says he learned how painful it can be when he went to visit a high school friend back in Tampa and learned the friend was dealing drugs. He immediately ended the relationship, he says, and was accused of turning his back on his friends.

Maybe it's just me, but Feely's tale has a distinctively After-School Special overtone, and really...I just want to give him a big hug. Wait a minute...no I don't. Notwithstanding, I myself have never been big-timed before, and would like to try it out, if anyone knows what that entails. It sounds like a good time.

Anyway, the bottom line- just be careful out there. And maybe just...I don't know. The necklace thing seems to be a recurring problem. If it's big enough to snatch off your neck that easily...well don't drop millions on it. Or don't wear it where someone might want to steal it as a status thing. Or...fuck, I'm not gonna act like I have any clue. I'm a suburban white girl who dances w/ her fingers in the air. (What can I say, I like to boogey.) So things like this make no sense to me:
"Athletes are easy prey," says Rob Johnson, a self-styled New York street agent with ties to numerous NBA players. "They have money and everybody knows it. Street culture has a mentality all its own: you get points for robbing famous guys."

I don't even know what the fuck a "street agent" is, let alone how to self-style oneself as such.

What I do know? Is the Feely Kicking School is funny, although I'm not sure why. Because fuck the Giants, that's why.

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