Twisted Knickers (New)

What's Up Doc?

It was nice of my long lost niece Maddy to pinch hit for me while I popped up for a bit of a holiday to my old stomping grounds on the Cape. How sweet it was, basking on the poop deck of the "Bone Voyage," enjoying a snifter of brandy at the Yacht Club with my old Dartmouth Dawgs – Skip, Zip, Biff and Stinky Peter. Swapping yarns about those long since days when the "Bone Voyage" danced like a woman upon the blue - sails rippling taut, full, supple mounds heaving further and further like twisted bed sheets tied--excuse me. A classic craft that captured the coveted Captain's Cup at the Richdawta Regatta three years straight. Good times. At least it sounds good, the fact is I went to college in Cedar City and I don't have any friends. At least none that I can think of offhand. It's weird because I'm really quite friendly and I'm told people speak highly of me. I don't know what happened. It's not that I don't like people, they're alright. They can be a pain in the ass at Christmas time, but... I dunno, they say keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Which, now that I think about it, is why I hate skipping church.

Before I wander off the subject of Boston blue blood it looks like Celtic pride has once again been set aside and the coffers drained of enough clover to charm that O ‘Neil lad onto the storied parquet. While Shaquille's skills are not what they were, he still appeals to the "freak show" demographic and, long in the tooth though he may be, I doubt the Jazz would turn their nose up at such a hearty helping of low post-beef. My problem with this newest Shaq shake-up is that it's just another obvious example of "Ring Fever." More and more "team loyalty" means about as much to the players as a promise ring from Charlie Sheen. I mean inter-racial advice from Dr. Laura. Talk about getting your knickers in a twist. Side by side, the two stories brought the NBA's New York Knicks to mind. Knicks are actually Knickerbockers which was shortened to Knickers in the early 60s, but was given an emergency abbreviation to Knicks after only one game, because it fit better on their jerseys. "Welcome to Madison Square Garden ladies and gentleman I'm Marv Albert along with Mike Fratello as the Milwaukee Bucks are in town to take on the runnin' gunnin' Knickers." (Relax, I'm black - it's okay for me to use the K-word.)

Speaking of "Ring Fever" history has proven again and again that if there's one team that sees no shame in purchasing the championship it would be the Lakers. A bit of internet research turned up an interesting tidbit - I guess the word "Laker" is of Dutch derivation and roughly translates to "trophy-whore." One need only glance at the teams' history of low-post prostitution to spot a definite pattern - beginning with Wilt "the stilt" Chamberlain. Wilt changed the game forever. While with the Philadelphia Warriors he once scored 100 points in a single game. Math is not my strong suit, but in order to score that many points in say 40 minutes give-or-take, you'd have to shoot the ball . . . let's see, carry the 3 . . . roughly . . . like there's no tomorrow. Like that arcade-game with all those mini-balls and the little basket.

Alas, Wilt's stint in Philly would end when the yellow-clad worshippers of goat balls became desirous of his prolific scoring and offered him enough gold and treasures of the flesh to forsake his team and the fans there in the city of brotherly love for the hedonistic playgrounds of Lala Land. No surprise in retrospect, as it turns out Wilt was interested in all kinds of scoring. Next came Kareem Abdul Jabbar who jilted the fans of Milwaukee in favor of some bigger Bucks. As many of you know Kareem's given name was Lou Alcinder (which he gave back after college, because his actual name "Al Loucifer" was attracting the wrong kind of attention.) Over the years I've accused the Lakers of being Satan's NBA franchise - but I'll tell ya - go ask the kids, "they" know what's what on the streets. They know there're no lakes in Los Angeles and that LAKERS is in fact an acronym for "Lucifers Athletes Keeping Evil Running Strong."

Speaking of kids, they might remember the third giant to stalk into L.A. – yes the warm and fuzzy Shaquille O'Neil. Sure his move to Boston reeks of the "ring thing," but it's not like "our" boys in green have been immune from this sad form of soul pedaling. The Mailman changed his address when he got a chance to join the first (and truly cursed) "Fellowship of the Ring." (Kobe, Shaq, the Mailman and the Glove). Not to mention our "Love/Hang" relationship with Derek Fisher. One year he would descend from the sky like the Mormon Miracle and the next he's a worthless son of Perdition fit only for Outer Darkness. "I hope that ring turns you into a freaky little troll-monster who frugs around on all-fours squealing about ‘My Precious' eating raw fish with the three rotting teeth in your nasty, gigantic noggin." We're not bitter though, he can eat whatever he wants.

Of course the big hoo-ha is the All-Star team they're putting together down in Miami. If I get a chance I'd like to take me a nice pic of Dwayne Wade, open it up in Photoshop and paste a big C in front of HEAT. If no such picture accompanies this article you'll know that I was unable to make it past Independent security and that I'm rotting away in some sweltering hell hole awaiting a decision by the Bosh.

"See that's called a seque got it, good. You see Bosh I been thinkin' – thinkin' BIG see - hows about we take a shot at the Big-Dog, y'follow Bosh? That's the ticket - King James, LBJ and I'm not talkin' ‘bout no dead Texan see, so listen up cause the tune goes like this. We bring in that Buckwheat-lookin' lefty – whats-his-name. Trust me on this one Bosh, he slaps ‘em in with that left hand – ba da bing. Den we got ourselves a powerhouse, y'follow? What's not to love? Wi'da King in the middle and two ringers on the wings, we gun ‘em down left and right, kapeesh - like shootin' fish from a baby."

See how I did that? Instead of whining about how free agency has ruined Basketball, I do the Damon Runyan bit, thus equating these "hustled-together allstar teams" with organized crime? (All the great writers had to explain why they're so awesome.) Now I'll be switching from the Wop-thing to the Mick-thing in order to offend even more people. "Oright mate. Fust of ole one's flagon runs over with the material when you put Shaq together with Boston. Shaq and Shamroq. Shaq-Rom Rom-Shaq (a bit Muslimy for Irish Catholics, perhaps - too "Mosque at Ground Zero, eh"). How ‘bout that green Ogre from the movies with the Eddie Murphy-mule, spoke with an Irish brogue, he did. All together now – "Shraq." Won't be long ‘til someone paints him up green with the wee horns n' all. It's too bad Shaq doesn't have an Irish-sounding last name, that I could/ wait just a bloody minute, hold the phone, his name's O' Neil! Doesn't that just turn your Joshua Tree into a Sheleighly stick. I reckon it's time to round up the snakes, and call me the Bono-man, or . . . or hav'I just been a naughty little sarcastic boy and deserve nothing but a proper floggin' eh Molly? Pardon me while I bend over the Blarney Stone and take it like a drunk.

Just to bring the proceedings to a more classy finish, I'll sum up the Jazz fans tumultuous off-season in a lovely ode of my own compost. With apologies to Dr. Suess.

"It was looking pretty grim for ‘our' men in Green, we were losers of Boozer our low post was lean/

We got rooked on our Rookie, straight Cinderella theft – then our 3-baller pretty-boy made it ‘three' when ‘he' left/

Though Raja rolled back to ring the three-baller Bell – "Bummed Come Ye Saints" for All was not Well/

For some these raw-deals meant that End Times did loom, So they loaded their basements with freeze-dried legumes/

But, for those who stood faithful doubting not in their Lord, would rejoice as Brother Jefferson saw Democracy restored/

So, if D Will and Al J work the post like a dream and AK and Memo ever rejoin the team/

Then we'll watch every game like the Ghost of Larry Miller/

And be bounced from the playoffs in a second round thriller."

The End.