Composed like some sort of WWE rendition, the 2009 NBA All-Star Weekend in Phoenix, Arizona was an overblown nightmare of the grandest proportions. Whether it was Kobe and Shaq sharing the MVP Award (Who could forget the feud that stemmed from Bryant’s “selfish” play and promiscuous actions in Colorado?) or KryptoNate popping up out of nowhere to douse Superman’s kid-friendly grin (I didn’t know “dunking” included using shoulders and Wilson Chandler’s back as natural catapults, but I guess they were props, right?) There definitely wasn’t much to cheer about during this star-studded weekend, but I was pleased to see an aging Allen Iverson chop off the braids and come hard with his latest signature heat, the Answer XII. Maybe its wishful thinking on my part, but most of me believes that AI is too hood to remove the ‘rows as part of a contrived PR stunt. Besides, his kicks speak for themselves and were my favorite pair to appear on the ASW scene. The All-Star XII features a navy blue middle panel and sky blue toebox that’s offset nicely by a gradient pattern out back along the heel collar.
Music captures the rhythm of the soul. The soul of Streetball is captured in the parks of our communities. Board slaps, dunks, quick feet, and machine gun handles gives the park legend the fullness of mode and tempo, like a song. The Nike freestyle commercial hit on it, but the one man who embodies the rebelliousness of the street is Allen “AI” Iverson. To appreciate his handle, his finishing, and his cookies “D” is to know the mind of the street. His whole game is in “Inferno” – the heat and mode that burns in your mind to succeed on your own terms. I wrote a poem titled, “The Exhibitionist,” inspired by the book titled “La Divina Commedia” or “The Divine Comedy,” written by Dante Alighieri. The book’s popular name is “Dante’s Inferno.” The poem is written in my self-created mode of “flopain” – the mournful, yet hopeful tone of keeping talent with us as it grows and matures. So enjoy or diss, it’s on you and no, I’m not a weed smoker or condoning it.
In Biggie “Where Brooklyn At Freestyle” Flopain:
My game is street to stingray…/opponent stun gunned and sat down today/his coach complained/said “all you saw was his back and his last name”/ Read More »
During this holiday season, I’ll be dipping into the archives to offer up some updated goodies in the form of some of the most delectable “The Playground Gave Us…” joints from ‘08.
Before he reached 5,000 points and 2,500 assists faster than anyone in NBA history except The Big O, the incomparable Mr. Oscar Robertson, and prior to the Nike commercials that raved about his “skeeels”, the playgrounds of the Windy City knew him as “Tim Bug.” Read More »
During this holiday season, I’ll be dipping into the archives to offer up some updated goodies in the form of some of the most delectable “The Playground Gave Us…” joints from ‘08.
The time has come to pay homage to Tiny, the ultimate point guard.
As a skinny kid that always looked much younger than his actual age, Nathaniel “Tiny” Archibald insulated himself from the worst elements of the South Bronx with a ball and a hoop.
“We paid $109.00 a month rent and got the neighborhood for free,” he once said. “We were overcharged for both.” Read More »
