We’re down to the final two Divisions in our weeks-long NBA 2009-10 Season Preview.
It’s been a rather fun, special ride, hasn’t it?
Are you just logging onto The Kids for the first time? Maybe just catching up with the blog after getting released from Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew? Well then, be sure to read Parts 1-4 of “Earning Your NBA”. In the previous installments we cover everything from the Denver Eastern Promises to Hedo Turkoglu’s Face, to answering the question, “Greg Oden: Man or Negro Tree?”.
In this penultimate installment of The Kids Don’t Get It Earning Your NBA: A Preview of the 2009-10 NBA Season (I’m trying to create longer and longer titles for special features like this), we’ll throw more questions at you, more funny, and quite possibly more sex for those out there that need it.
Now, let’s do this.
The Pacific Division (LA Lakers, Phoenix Suns, LA Clippers, Sacramento Kings, Golden State Warriors):
- LA Lakers: How’s this team ever going to do press conferences? The NBA Championship LA Lakers have Pau Gasol–who looks like he just escaped from a Central American drug war jungle prison, Ron Artest–a man who probably fucks and eats lions for sport and Lamar Odom–who manages to get into the treasured Kardashian camp and walks away with the chunky, crazy one. WTF. There’s no way that Lakers’ owner Jerry Buss is going to let a single one of these fools talk; Pau’s going to recount his days living off of monkey meat and recording his thoughts on guava leaves or some shit; Ron’s going to talk about the bad rap that cannibalism gets, and Lamar Odom’s going to discuss what it’s like to make love to your wife, dreaming of your sister-in-law the entire time, and how weird it is to be in the same room with Bruce Jenner’s face. Which leaves Kobe Bryant and Phil Jackson to talk, and that’s not the best scenario either since either one’s liable to be sleeping with your daughter.
- Phoenix Suns: Or as I like to call them, “The Canadians” since PG Steve Nash is about the only person on the team that people are most likely to know/recognize. You know Steve Nash, right? Nash is the proud owner of the prettiest head of hair in the NBA. It’s true. During time-outs and team huddles last year, Shaq could be routinely seen brushing Nash’s hair. And the Suns have Alvin Gentry as their head coach; a guy who combines the look of a 1920’s Black Kansas City gangster and Joe Jackson. Oh, and All-Star PF Amare Stoudemire, who looks the world’s biggest welder thanks to the basketball goggles he’s wearing this season. All Stoudemire needs are shorty-shorts and a YMCA gym and he’d be a middle-aged white man.
- LA Clippers: The Clippers have to share their space with the Lakers. They’re the only professional franchise squatters to be found; every time the Lakers are on the road, the Clippers rush in and take over the place, pulling up the carpet, opening their Laker drawers, raiding their Laker fridge, wearing their Laker underwear. And they’ve been cursed with a series of bizarre injuries over the years to nearly every franchise player that’s come their way, starting with Ron Harper and ending most recently with the following injuries: Elton Brand (out 2/3 season with a shoulder injury a couple of seasons ago), Baron Davis (just joined last season and then as soon as he showed up his left nut exploded or something) and then this season’s super-high draft pick Blake Griffin–his legs fell off once he signed his contract. They’ve even got squatter-level celebrities; while the Lakers have the likes of Jack “Old Scratch” Nicholson and Jessica Alba; the Clippers have funny man Penny Marshall and lesbian Billy Crystal. Wait, is that right? I get them confused.
- Sacramento Kings: Like most things involving sacks (NFL, potatos, the dangly-things under your wang) the SACramento Kings are painful to watch in action, virtually untouchable and occasionally on your face. Huh? The Kings were never the same after they lost to the LA Lakers in the Western Conference Finals back in 01-02 in a game that was so fixed I thought it was endorsed by Bob Barker. Chris Webber’s knees and passion to live left him, as evidenced by his departure to play for the 76ers and date Tyra Banks, and years later, the Kings had Ron Artest, and his experience was so bizarre it robbed him of his insanity long enough for the Rockets to be wooed into taking him–and then subsequently let him go to the Lakers a year later once they discovered he spent his nights sleeping in teammates’ lockers. Anyway, nowadays the Kings, who are owned by the Maloof Brothers, are a total, dismal joke, unable to attract any real talent or maintain its once-rabid fanbase. This wouldn’t surprise you if you knew that the Maloofs once let MTV use their hotel/penthouse floor for an entire season of Real World: Las Vegas. I thought about doing a follow-up joke to this fact, but really, do I need to say anything more?
- Golden State Warriors: The Warriors are anything but. They’re a team composed of Stephen Jackson, a guy so crazy that he’s listed as one of Ron Artest’s “top friends” on Facebook–and Don Nelson, who looks like he should be the Prime Minister for Russia. This is a team that loves to shoot a lot, and are dedicated to it, too: Don Nelson’s coaching style calls for the team to launch shots with reckless abandon–perfect for Stephen Jackson! Jackson’s been so dedicated to this new system, he practices after hours too. In the parking lot of strip clubs. The world’s your gym when you’ve got a beretta! Sadly, the league banned their players from using Twitter during the season, otherwise we’d get these exchanges between Jackson and Artest:
stevejaxshots @rartest: what u up to, ron?
rartest@ stevejaxshots: watchin’ gossip girls eatin funions, tattooing myself. u?
stevejaxshots @rartest: wanna go shoot something? i’m supposed to do an appearance at a local hs in an hr for nba reads
rartest @stevejaxshots: hm, k…can we stop by porn shop tho? i need to start x-mas shopping. local hs? they’ll shoot u!
stevejaxshots @rartest: not if i shoot them 1st lolz!
What could have been. Anyway, the Warriors also have young PG Monta Ellis, who sounds like an island getaway. “Come to beautiful Monta Ellis; preferred prison colony of NBA’s Stephen Jackson!”. This year, the Warriors drafted Stephen Curry, son of former NBA player Dell Curry. Besides his sweet shooting stroke, Curry Jr. also wins the award for the Hottest NBA Player’s Mom thanks to his mother, Sonya Curry. My goal is to befriend young Stephen–maybe trade comic books with him, or watch Spongebob–and get invited over to his parents’ house for a sleepover, and then get up early in the morning and ask Sonya Curry for breast milk, hold the milk. Or say, “man, this dinner’s really awesome, Mrs. C–but it’d be great with a little Curry on the side. And by “on the side” I mean “in my sleeping bag tonight after Stephen and I watch The Phantom Menace. He’ll be sleep by 10. I’ll leave the zipper down for you.”
Hey, you know who else has a sweet shooting stroke and loves hot moms? Stephen Jackson! That should be a Bay Area night radio show: Late Night Sweet Shots with Stephen Jackson