Waaaaake up!
Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!
Up ya wake! Up ya Wake! Up ya wake!
This is Mister Señor Love Daddy.
Your voice of choice. The world's
only twelve-hour strongman, here on
WE LOVE radio, 108 FM. The last on
your dial, but the first in ya
hearts, and that's the truth, Ruth!
Here I am. Am I here? Y'know it.
It ya know. This is Mister Señor
Love Daddy, doing the nasty to ya
ears, ya ears to the nasty. I'se
play only da platters dat matter,
da matters dat platter and that's
the truth, Ruth.
Thank god for Spike Lee. Thank god for Samuel L Jackson. Because without 'Do The Right Thing' in 1989, I couldn't give you my 'Bachi 2.0 blog introduction in only the way Love Daddy could. Here's the rundown- This aint your daddy's corner store & I'm not your father. I'm going to give it to you straight, you can take from it what you will. And that's the DOUBLE truth, Ruth.
ACT I: THE MOST VALUABLE PLAYER.
Ladies and Gentlemen, we can sit on a padded fold out, talkin' bout Dwight, CP3, possibly even Wade in reference to this most prestigious award. But let's be real, this is the year of the ultimate conflict. This is Harry Potter/Voldemort. This is Kobe Bryant/LeBron James. We can shoot the breeze about which is which. We can bring up the fact that LeBron makes everything he does look easy. But for each of us with that POV, we get a cat next door swearin' on the good book that Kobe does things so hard, that nobody else can do it. Pick your poison. No Kobe fan will dare say LBJ has bested the Mamba. No Bron fan would go within 10 miles of even considering Kobe being the MVP over their King. I won't lead you either way. Instead, I give you a story. You will decide for yourself which is Kobe, which is James. The winner shall be your MVP. Without further a due, Radio Raheem:
RADIO RAHEEM:
Let me tell you the story of "Right Hand, Left Hand." It's a tale of good and evil. Hate: It was with this hand that Cane iced his brother. Love: These five fingers, they go straight to the soul of man. The right hand: the hand of love. The story of life is this: Static. One hand is always fighting the other hand; and the left hand is kicking much ass. I mean, it looks like the right hand, Love, is finished. But, hold on, stop the presses, the right hand is coming back. Yeah, he got the left hand on the ropes, now, that's right. Ooh, it's the devastating right and Hate is hurt, he's down. Left-Hand Hate K.O.ed by Love.
What does that tell you? You know who you chose. I leave you with my favorite Kobe mix, and my favorite Bron mix.
FUEL TO MY FIRE (Mix by Arek Kissoyan, the lead video editor for ballislife)
LEBRON JAMES 'KING' (Mix by Tyson Johnston, video editor for ballislife)
ACT II: ACTIN' A DAMN FOOL.
Who's hot, who's not, who's win, who's loss. That's what's at stake here. Here's the nitty gritty, from your main man.
SMOOTH AS A CRUISE-BOAT FLOATS WHEN I'M WALKIN'.
1. Kevin Durant. Say what you will about the Oklahoma City Thunder. Say Clay Bennett is a bad person, say he did Seattle 7 shades of dirty & you will hear not a word of argument from me. But, then let the words out your mouth. "Kevin Durant can score. I mean drop major numbers. I mean he drops more numbers than the economy drops jobs." You would say that, and I wouldn't argue. Not one bit. For the season, he's averaging 39.9 minutes a game. In that shade under 40, he drops 25.5 PPG on 47.9% shooting, 42.9% from the 3PT line, and 85% from the FT line. Think about that... 25 PPG with percentages of 47/42/85? Damn. Also, 6.7 boards, 1.23 steals, 2.8 assists. This is his second year in the L. He's skinnier than those kids from the african poverty commercials. Seriously, Kevin Durant stood next to a few Phoenix area kids while accepting the Rookie Challenge MVP award- Holly MacKenzie noticed his arms were thinner than a prepubescent little girl wearing a pink T-Mobile shirt. 12 year olds got more beef than young buck. But he bangs in the paint, scores from deep, and doesn't get bodied. Like the special cat, Jason, who dropped 20 points and got him an ESPY nomination..."hot as a pistol."
2. Rajon Rondo. This University of Kentucky product has been hated on by you, me, your mother, your sister, your friends...Hell, my 95 year old great grandmother ragged on Rondo's game. We just figured, he's got big....colossal hands, and a shot that a coaches son could best in a shooting competition (no seriously, it really happened once). But then you watch how he carries the Celtics. Yes, I said HE carries it. Put it this way- Kevin gets hurt, the Celtics can still get to the finals as long as Paul Pierce and Ray Allen and Rajon & crew play their ass off. Pierce gets hurt, same thing. Allen gets hurt, same thing. You lose Rondo? You trying to tell me that the Celtics could still get to the finals? Sorry, don't believe it. Rajon Rondo keeps his big 3 getting the ball evenly. He gets his 8.5 assists, his 2 steals....But what really impresses me is that regardless of what deficiencies he might have, he is the integral gear to the offense. Hate on this statement all you want, but there is no way that Eddie House, Pruitt, Tony Allen, or anybody else could run the point for the C's and get them to the finals.
WHAT AINT NO COUNTRY I EVER HEARD OF.
1. Shawn Marion. I really don't know what to say. They call him The Matrix. See, that movie was the shit. This Shawn Marion isn't that Matrix. He's not even Matrix Reloaded, or Revolutions for that matter. Shawn Marion isn't even the mathematical matrix. No, Shawn Marion, in his current state, is the butt of an old Dave Chappelle joke from his "For What It's Worth" tour. Here's the part of the joke I mention:
"finally, one guy in the back snapped. I seen it. "AAAAHHH. RUSH HIM, He can't come on all of us!" And he charged up the aisle. And it was like a movie, this homeless dude seen him comin' and shot one off..."AAAAH" [imitates a...well you know] I dodged that shit like THE MATRIX. The guy behind me wasn't so lucky, yall. "No...Noooooo" [shot hits him on the forehead]. That shit was gross...That didn't kill him, but I'm sure that f*cked his day up."
That must be what it's like to have this version of THE MATRIX, Shawn Marion, on your team, screwing up the offense, calling out for more plays in the media, having all his career stats plummet like the nasdaq- I liken having Marion on my team to having a homeless dude bust one on a forehead. That's basically what Shawn has done to his career at this point. Remember when we were saying he was the most efficient guy in the league? Man, I miss those days.
2. I don't think you can possibly follow Shawn Marion in the "I'm not living up to standards" list. I think having just him in this list is fine and dandy, thank you very much.
ACT III: CONCLUSION.
SWEAR I could have died of boredom in the skills competition. That is, until Derrick Rose unveiled that pump 180. That was the best skill I saw in that whole competition. The 3PT contest left me with a gross taste in my mouth. The Dunk contest was annoyingly tedious when anybody, save for Nate Robinson & the last 2 dunks Dwight Howard had were up (Dwight took way too long for his first dunk, and to be honest with you the phone booth thing took WAY too long for me). Apparently, LBJ wants in next years competition. I say, more power to him, but he had better show me more than the yawn-fest he gave me at the McDonalds Game. He seriously did nothing but jump high and dunk hard. He had better SHOW ME SOMETHING.
For my parting shots, I'd like to give a shout to Jordan Hamilton, my boy from Compton Dominguez HS. He's going to play in the Jordan Brand Classic in April. It's going to be his first play of the year, since the CIF made a dumb mixup and made him ineligible. I'll be at the JBC, covering the game for SLAM. Best believe Jordan is going to fill it up. And that's the truth, Ruth.
-Justin Walsh aka Mister Señor Love Daddy.
