Dorm Tsunami

There’s a loud knock on my door at 6 a.m. this morning.

“D*mn, Jeff better not be pukin’ in the other room again,” I mumble to myself, words barely crackin’ loud enough to be heard.

This is the U of I.

The door opens, and it’s a three-inch deep river in the hallway. “Hell no,” I mutter…and I wade my through water and heaps of trash to use the urinal.

Half consciously, I drop the five feet to the cold ground from my bunk. Crack goes the smack of my feet against the floor. Crack goes the sound of my stiff knees taking the pressure of the fall.

Feeling my way to the door in my dark room, I finally swipe at the metal knob. Preparing myself for a dude with his sleeping bag, I unlock the latch.

The door opens, and it’s a three-inch deep river in the hallway.

Do I care why or how water was suddenly rushing past my bare feet, into my carpet and the rest of my room faster than Lance on a downhill slope?

Nah. Only one thing is on my mind.

“Hell no,” I mutter…and I wade my through water and heaps of trash to use the urinal.

This is third floor Scott Hall.

Throwback to the future

Allen Iverson reps the Syracuse Nationals (1949-63) in a 99-95 loss to the Detroit Pistons Saturday, Jan. 15, 2005.
- R. Nelly

Deeply immersed in a sea of thought, I headed down the cold hallway of Scott Hall to fill up my Dannon water bottle.

One of my buddies from Edwardsville, Ill. was already at the water fountain, filling his nalgene.

Upon hearing my 574’s slowly slap across the pearl-colored tile, he greeted, “What up, Ryne.”

Not really thinking much about it, I responded, “Nothing.”

Add one to Atlanta’s already long list of some of the League’s best throwbacks in the business! I guess they’ve turned their attention to selling jerseys and finally given up trying to fill all those empty seats.

Maybe he felt the palpable aura of NBA-related thought that surrounded by being at the moment, or maybe he just knows me too well already.

“Bullsh*t,” he said in disbelief.

It’s weird how that, in just one semester, people can get such a clear picture of who you really are.

But I guess the truth is that I AM always up to something. Even in the few free moments during the school year, I’m thinking about updating this blog.

I could’ve (well, should’ve) been thinking about LeBron’s first career triple double or even the return of Steve Nash in the blockbuster Suns/Spurs game tonight. Heck, I could’ve even been thinking about the homework that I still have to do for my class at one o’clock.

Instead, I was ranking the throwbacks.

Doing nothing? That’s bullsh*t!

Ask any sport mogul and he’ll agree that the NBA is undoubtedly the world’s most progressive and stylish sports league. One major reason being its strong connection to the past. The NBA not only pays respect to its roots with throwback uniforms but — just as importantly — finds itself with tremendous marketing and sales opportunities in the process.

Half the League has worn throwbacks this season. Some look absolutely phenomenal, others need a one-way ticket on a kamikaze-driven jet back to the past! However, one thing is for sure: the NBA is good lookin’.

Honestly, there’s nothing better than turning on the TV and watching teams go at it in uniforms from the ‘60’s and ‘70’s.

Alright so, without further ado, here’s my Top 15 throwbacks worn in the NBA today, ranked on cosmetic value only:

'Bron and James Thomas

1. Cavaliers: They’ve worn that beautiful yellow jersey in seemingly every game this past week. The threads are designed after the uniforms the Cavaliers wore for only TWO seasons in the early ‘80’s. Who needs those newly designed crimson-hued wine and metallic gold jerseys anyways?

2. Sixers: I think the last time these jerseys were in commission was when the team was playing in Syracuse with a certain Jew named Dolph tearin’ up the court. In my book, this jersey from the 1940’s can come back any day.

3. Rockets: Plain, simple, gorgeous.

Yaaaaoooo!

4. Golden State: Ah, San Francisco. Since its days in the “The City,” the Warriors have moved to Oakland, but the sweet jersey remains. I love the design of the Golden Gate Bridge on the front and an electric trolley car on the back…D*mn it! Now I want Ghirardelli ice cream.

5. Wizards: The team busted out these orange beauties for the first time ever Tuesday and scored 120 points. Too bad the Mavs scored 137 against them.

Juan and Stack on Tuesday.

6. Hawks: Did Atlanta ever wear this yellow fabric? Even if they didn’t, they still hit up near the top of the list. Add one to Atlanta’s already long list of some of the League’s best throwbacks in the business! I guess they’ve turned their attention to selling jerseys and finally given up trying to fill all those empty seats.

7. Pacers: Although the people voted the Pacers’ current uniform the best in the Central division, this throwback is even better. Let it be known, however, the ABA uniforms that the Pacers wore last season were definitely hotter than this year’s threads modeled after the jersey’s of the 1980’s.

Old school game, new school handle.

8. Pistons: When I first saw the defending champs in this throwback, I laughed. I don’t remember when they actually wore that uniform, but I would really like to meet the child genius who scratched that design on the fabric. Is it just me or does it not look like a kid wrote the letters on that jersey?

9. Mavs: To the best of my knowledge, the Mavs donned these throwbacks for the first time on Tuesday also. That day they beat the East’s thirst place team and lit up for 137 points…I think we’ll be seeing these green beauties again sometime soon.

Did they have masks back then?

10. Blazers: Wednesday’s throwback worn against the Cavaliers is a clean looking uniform that harkens one back to the Bill Walton days. Throw it down Zach Randolph! Throw it down!…Okay, how ‘bout the Mo Cheeks era instead?

11. Knicks: Look for the team to don the white, blue and red uniform from the 1979-80 season TODAY against the Rockets!

Sweetney...sweet.

12. Lakers: I was never a big fan when they started wearing the navy blue threads in ’04 and still am not one now. These jerseys from the 1960’s represent the first Laker uniforms since their move from Minneapolis.

13. Kings: I know these jerseys were a hit around the league in the mid-1980’s when the Kings first moved to Sac-Town. But their shimmer really detracts from the old school look the Kings were trying to achieve.

The baby blue cat.

14. Bulls: I hate to pick on the home team, but these jerseys have no aesthetic appeal whatsoever! Not only that, but 300-pound Eddy Curry wearing little 6’1’’ Norm Van Lier's old uniform just doesn’t seem right.

Bring 'em back in 10 years.

15. Magic: This isn’t a throwback! They wore that uniform like five years ago!

Ryno's winter movie rankings!

Who can resist a man like that?
- R. Nelly

1. Coach Carter: I know, I know…I KNOW! You’re saying that I’m a basketball guy, and that’s the only reason it's on top. You’re sayin’, “Look at your site, bro! Hoops is all you ever write about!” and my opinion’s all biased.

Well, I have one thing to say to you: You’re right, but this movie is for real!

I’d calmly strut around in the permafrost outside to see this movie. I’d then drive 45 minutes to Chicago and back without turning on the heat to see this movie. I’d give away tickets to the Final Four to see…this…mo…well, I’d run outside naked to see this movie.

2. Meet the Fockers: You don’t have to see the Meet the Parents to laugh ‘till your gut is sore!...Hum, I wonder if Robert De Niro kept that rubber breast?

3. Spanglish: It was me, Eddy and Jord just goin’ to the theatres for the heck of it. And what did we find? Probably the surprise movie of the break! This one is definitely worth a see. Adam Sandler plays one the world’s top chefs/loving father quite lovingly. Ha!

If you’re the type who likes to watch middle-aged men consume their lives in front of a fuzzy TV screen trying to communicate with the dead, this movie is for you…and you’re not for me.

4. Ocean’s 12: Not as good as the first. Period. Not as good as the three above movies. Period. I rest my case. Period. What’s my favorite little punctuation mark? Period…Alright, that was about two periods too long.

5. The Aviator: If it wasn’t for my boy Nate Dawg, I don’t think I would’ve ever seen this movie. But this film was off the banga!!! Well, it’s No. 5 on the list, and I just wanted to say that.

After Titanic I wasn’t in a big rush to see another Leonardo DiCaprio film. But Leo did his thang for another three hours and produced yet another pretty good thang.

Quick Note: Hypochondria and verminophobia aside, Howard Hughes was pimp!

6. Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events: A great movie to go see with your little sister. Honestly, it was a date that night! I actually enjoyed this one, although, I felt like R. Kelly on a “talent search” with all the little children in the theatre. Oh yeah, Jim Carey does a CRAZY good job in this film. My sister wouldn’t stop staring at me funny when I finally realized he was playing Count Olaf half way through the movie!

7. White Noise: If I could draw a big, dotted line above this movie I would (and I probably can, but don’t tell anyone). This is where the quality really starts to fall off. White Noise is only mediocrely scary and mediocrely intense. If you’re the type who likes to watch middle-aged men consume their lives in front of a fuzzy TV screen trying to communicate with the dead, this movie is for you…and you’re not for me.

8. Elektra: The latest and last movie I saw this break. D*mn I wish In Good Company wasn’t sold out.

9. Blade: Trinity: Didn’t see the first or second. Won’t see the first or second.

10. National Treasure: I know a lot of you would put this movie higher, but look at the facts — the plot progressed way too fast, the action was ordinary and the script was downright terrible.

11. Alexander: Uhhh….umm….d*mn. I’d rather watch a nectarine grow.

Let me know what y’all think of the rankings!

Coach Carter inspires, excedes expectations

Samuel L. Jackson and his basketball team at Richmond High, an underserved school in a majority black and Hispanic community north of Oakland.
- R. Nelly

I was all prepared to dub Meet the Fockers the best movie of the winter, but Coach Carter by far and away tops the list.

It’s one of those feel good films like Remember The Titans but also hilarious like The Sixth Man. I’ve honestly never seen a sports movie this unique. I was never good at reviews, but I’m pretty much convinced that no human could do it justice while describing it.

It’s just that good.

Not only does the film have an amazing soundtrack, the acting is even better. Although not an academy award winning performance, Samuel L. Jackson is brilliant. If it wasn’t for Concrete Roses, I never would’ve known Ashanti was a more talented singer than actress.

It’s not too long, and yet doesn’t cut anything short. The movie’s true to contemporary times, keepin’ it real throughout. And what I liked best about the movie was that it really captures the heart and soul of the game of basketball.

Coach Carter paints such a beautiful picture of the grace of basketball and the extraordinary and inimitable impact it has on so many people’s lives.

But as I said, nothing that I do here can give the movie half of the justice that it really deserves.

You just have to go out and see if for yourself.

Without Kobe, Lakers learn lesson

Sorry to Kobe (and my fantasy team), but the Lakers are better off without him for now. They proved it in a 98-94 win against LeBron James and the Cavs yesterday.
- R. Nelly

"Hells no!” I yell from my perch upon my parent’s king sized bed upstairs.

It’s Thursday night and the Rockets/Nets game just went into overtime on TNT, meaning I’m stuck watching game garbage for another five-minute period.

At 9:49, the Lakers/Cavaliers game is scheduled to air. It’s a game that I’ve anticipated since, well, the beginning of the week! I even managed to wake up in time to see a 2:35 showing of White Noise just to free up the rest of the night for this match-up.

Let’s be real. I wasn’t interested in the actual game, but rather the match-up of two of the League’s MVP candidates this season: Kobe Bryant and LeBron James.

As NBA analyst Kenny “The Jet” Smith says, Kobe is a superstar — meaning his team either lives or dies with his performance. Without its superstar, a team that once was sugar turns itself to sh*t in a hurry.

It was supposed to be the Convict vs. the Mask. New school vs. newer school. High schooler vs. high schooler.

So you can imagine my reaction as I’m stuck staring at the 7’5’’, Chinese giant, Yao Ming fall to the floor like he was Mini Me, and long-time NBA nomad Bob Sura and his fake-as-Pamela tan score 35 points!


Sura

Finally, after half a quarter of the LeBron/Kobe game has passed, TNT shows a game update. And what do my poor eyes see?

Kobe Bryant being carried off the court by Brian Grant and Devon George!

Not only was Kobe half the reason that I wanted to see the game, but he’s also the heart of my fantasy team!

With Kobe out indefinitely with an ankle injury and the Rockets/Nets game STILL in overtime, I had a sudden and strong empathy for Ron Artest.

Legs outstretched on the bed’s cloud blue comforter, I began to feel woozy like I was begin injected with sleeping gas. Head swirling in a bunch of dense nothings, I hear commentator Steve Kerr say, “This could be the end of the Lakers’ season right here.”

As NBA analyst Kenny “The Jet” Smith says, Kobe is a superstar — meaning his team either lives or dies with his performance. Smith contends that without its superstar, a team that once was sugar turns itself to sh*t in a hurry.

The Cavs lost because they were playing against a TEAM, not its superstar.

At that point, I had a SERIOUS urge NOT to stick around to watch the rest of the game. My thumb was all over the power button on the remote. But overtime finally ended (it was all Juwan Howard, by the way), and I figured I would at least see a bit of the “beautiful people” at the game in L.A…and maybe some LeBron James highlights in the making.

Here’s some quick notes I took on the game:

• Splint! Scheduling of an MRI tomorrow!
• Lackluster • \lak-"l&s-t&r\ • adjective: the lack of luster
• Sasha who?
• Careless slop! Ugly!
• Mishandled passes by the Cavs
• Donald Trump, Chris Rock, Denzel Washington, Jack Nicholson

‘Bron ended with yet another almost triple double (dude still hasn’t gotten one yet), but his team lost 98-94. It was a good performance by one of my favorite players, but what really stood out were thrown away passes and a shot that clanked off the side of the backboard.

Okay, so here’s where I get a bit preachy, but it’s the heart of this article so PLEASE read on:

Regardless what stars are playing, basketball has always been a team game. Face it, teams are not successful with one “superstar” running the show every night.

Yesterday, everyone was saying that the Cavaliers lost because they focused their game plan too much on shutting down Kobe. And, because he got injured, the team was flustered on how to play the Lakers.

Well you know what? That’s not why they lost. The Lakers played more of a team game WITHOUT their star, and the Cavs relied almost entirely on LeBron.

The Cavs lost because they were playing against a TEAM, not its superstar.

Would the game have been more exciting with Kobe playing? For sure! Would Sports Center be gushing with highlights ‘till 5 p.m. the next day? Without a doubt! Would the Lakers still have won the game?

I’m not so sure.

Sorry Steve and Jet, the Lakers are NOT done with Kobe on the sidelines. They might actually be BETTER! If Kobe can realize that he needs to play the team game when he returns to the court, I’d seriously watch out for the Lakers as legitimate contenders in the West.

But I guess, sometimes, we all need a wake up call to see what’s really important.

And that includes Kobe Bryant.

In a World of Peace...

Ernest Watson's Piedmont Court.
- R. Nelly

There is a labyrinth of bodies on the hardcourt

Letting the stars of the night

Flow through their game, in the air

Of the beautiful evening.

The calling of the soul and the heart

Is in the orange orb flying around the court

Wielded by soldiers of destiny grinding on the thick

Weathered concrete arena. Cracks everywhere to

Be found, rumbling under the smooth Swoosh of Nike

And the bold Icon of Jordan chartering the court as if it was a new maze

And the rain comes in the middle of the night

Redirecting the light in millions and millions

Of directions like lights of a camera fashing in the eyes of the ballas

Like Mike swishin’ the winner in front of the entire world —

In front of the entire universe — playing for entirely humanity’s sake

Hooping into the heart of the nightclouds that can’t be seen

In the blackness that surrounds, so thick that all their mamas are

Waiting and calling at home, worrying about their boys

In the middle of the night,

In the rain, lightning

In the thundering music

The ballas remain dancin’ to the pulse of the game

Steppin’ with a splash and singin’ with glistening wonder

And the labyrinth of bodies in music

Becomes more intricate

More unbelievable and foreign as the clean rain pours

Bodies working like well-oiled machines,

Engines of a great, new invention

Competition without destruction and hate

Thefts, rejections and love mixing on the asphalt of the court

Creating something more than human —

A society of brothers never known on this earth

Secretly, something that the entire world dreams for

A warm, metaphysical society

In the middle of the night

And the rain pours down

With their entire soul, they fly

Like great hawks to the mile-high goal

Worries leaving in a mad rush from the body

Erupting in ever-continuing explosions of steamy perspiration

Through the pores of ever-continuing life

So clear is the music of the game, bodies moving to a rhythm

Smoother than jazz, more style than the most experienced clubber

Under the clouds of the night, the globe shines with

Fiery luminescence with every pass, dribble and throwdown

Of the boys

Baptized in the rain of the night

With Bryant, it's either love or hate

With the team all to himself this season, Kobe's game isn't faltering, but his jersey sales are taking a big hit. Coincidence? I don't think so!
- R. Nelly

Kobe Bryant’s No. 8 jersey, a Top 10 seller in 2004, has fallen to No. 72, according to SportsScanINFO, a Palm Beach, Fla.-based market research firm.

Ever since his preps-to-pros entry into the League in 1996, KB8’s jersey has been a regular appearance around almost every NBA venue…until now.

This is almost as if Hercules fell from Mt. Olympus, skipping the mortal world and landing directly into the Underworld.

Instant failure. Bye bye happy ending.

The absolute crash in sales is undoubtedly among one of the worst in NBA history, and get this: I’m still wondering why it didn’t happen sooner!

Understand, I, or anyone else for that matter, never expected this Olympic high diver-style plunge to happen—c’mon, these numbers are just ludicrous! However, if we look at some events prior to this drop, today’s news won’t seem as much like, well…news.

It all started with Bryant’s rape case. Then his messy and oft-portrayed selfish divorce with the Diesel this summer. Then his less-than-classy comments about future Hall of Famer and former teammate Karl Malone.

Even his old coach Phil Jackson calls Bryant a prima donna in his new best-selling book. Over the past one-and-a-half years, the man without a nickname has gotten more than his share of bad ink by the media.

And, to top it all off, Kobe gave himself the WORST ink he’s EVER gotten: those BUTT UGLY tattoos on his right arm.

Still surprising that KB8’s jersey suddenly plummeted to rock bottom?

For me it always has been very simple: I NEVER would buy a Kobe jersey. Despite his obviously sick talent, he’s always had a rep as one of the shadiest and most fake players in the league.

Anyone remember a couple years ago when Bryant went a week wearing throwbacks to every game in the playoffs? Did that seem natural or merited? Nah…but that’s just Kobe.

But now I’m turnin’ the million dollar question to you: would you still buy a Kobe Bryant jersey?

MSNBC Sports is doing a live poll on the question, so get to the site, vote and see what other people are saying about NBA’s second leading scorer’s uniform this year.

Y'all already know what I voted.

West needs to shake up PGs

The T-Wolves are tired of carrying around a cranky Sam Cassell.
- R. Nelly

It came to me while watching Michael Wilbon and Tony Kornheiser argue over why the Minnesota Timberwolves are so bad this season:

A deal needs to be made.

Let’s face it, the Wolves are not where they should be right now. They’re the team that almost beat the Shaq, Kobe and the Lakers in the Western Conference Finals last season!

But they’re also the team that lost to the 8-21 Bobcats today.

The NBA is done with its first trimester of the regular season, and the T-Wolves are clawing at the very last playoff spots in the West.

Spree and Sam I Am are now making the Timberwolves seem like British Shorthairs. Purrrr…

They’re 3-8 in their last 11 games, and lost last night despite a 47-point, 17-rebound night by Kevin Garnett.

The problem is NOT the Big Ticket takin’ too many shots — dude averages 24 points on only 18 shots per game, and 50 percent shooting. The real problem is the players around him: Sam Cassell and Latrell Sprewell.

Spree and Sam I Am, the players that last season helped lead the Timberwolves overcome its seven years of playoff woes, are now making the Timberwolves seem like British Shorthairs. Purrrr…

This is all started at the beginning of the season. Spree and Sam whined and complained about their contracts. I don’t remember exactly what was said in the papers — I probably was still trying to pick my jaw up off the floor after the embarrassment at Athens — but it was pretty sad.

And now they’re just playing like washed up vets! I guess that, without their money, winning takes a back seat.

Obviously, nothing’s happening this year with the T-Wolves unless they can get rid of one or both of these babies. Minnesota needs someone who can compliment the intensity of Kevin Garnett — just like I Am and Spree did last year.

Apparently, it was “bigger contract intensity” that we saw last year. So here’s the deal:

Trade Sam Cassell to the Denver Nuggets for Andre Miller.

It’s a plain and simple deal that makes sense for both Northwest conference teams.

The Nuggets are in the midst of a mucky coaching change and have won only two games in their last 10.

The Nuggs have now found themselves with the fourth worst record in the Western conference. And this is following a trip to the playoffs last season and a largely successful summer, acquiring All-Star power forward Kenyon Martin.

For weeks now, Miller seems more and more like he’s on the outs in Denver. Dre did not return to the lineup after leaving the game with 8 minutes, 6 seconds remaining in the fourth quarter during Denver's 102-98 loss to the Clippers.

An All-Star last year, Cassell is averaging almost five points less than last season and his shooting from the land of plenty has fallen from 39.8 percent to 25 percent.

A change of scenery would do both Miller and Cassell some good not to mention provide each team the boost it needs to make a run before the All-Star break.

Miller would provide the intensity that the Wolves are desperately needing. Cassell would provide the Nuggs with some veteran court leadership and a pair of hands they can trust with the ball in the fourth quarter.

This way, maybe Garnett won’t have to score as much as USC did in the Orange Bowl to win games anymore.

NBA finally playing team game!

Jermaine O'Neal waives to the crowd in Indianapolis after recording an NBA season best 55 points yesterday. JO has pledged to donate $1,000 for every point he scores in a game later this week to aid the tsunami relief efforts.
- R. Nelly

Seven NBA players promised this week to donate $1,000 for every point they score to aid victims of the Indian Ocean tsunami. All of their donations will be based off of the number of points they score in their Friday night games.

Of the seven who have already pledged to help the relief situation, four are 20-plus point per game performers: Kobe Bryant of the L.A. Lakers; Jermaine O’Neal of the Indiana Pacers; Tracy McGrady of the Houston Rockets; and Spaniard Pau Gasol of the Memphis Grizzles.

Being some of the most affluent men in our country, I’m glad to hear that at least not all their money’s going toward new Bentleys, beautiful 12-acre estates and new record labels (*cough, Ron Artest, cough*).

Certainly, though, the NBA is not the only big-money sports league in the US. In fact, it’s barely in the Top 3. So, naturally, one question comes to mind:

Where are America’s other sports leagues in the midst of the tsunami relief efforts?

I’ve heard that the San Francisco Giants will auction off the opportunity to meet Barry Bonds.

Unconvential? Yeah. Unusual? Uh huh. Weird? Fo sho!

Yet, as of now, it’s all that I’ve heard of. That’s right, nothing from the NFL. Nothing from the NHL. Nothing from any other league.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to turn this into a bashing of hockey, football, baseball, soccer, or what have you. I only want to make the point that the NBA DOES have some class.

Too much has the League been maligned by the media for having stingy players (*cough, Boozergate, cough*). And all too often has the NBA been misrepresented by unseemly and harmful player-fan interactions (*cough, Ron Artest, cough*).

The press has said it all: That that League has been ruined by the massive paychecks that the owners are now cutting their players. The lack of an age limit, causing the level of play to drastically decrease as teams spend seasons developing their prep-to-pro icons of the future. That the League has become a one-on-one game.

They’re saying that the players are completely oblivious to the team game.

Well, that all is certainly debatable (but that argument has its own place and time). However, one thing is for sure: the NBA is shining when it really maters.

The NBA's showing it knows how to be part of a team effort just fine.

No better name than Ryne

A 25-year-old Sandburg is congratulated by the Cubs bench after hitting a triple and scoring against the St. Louis Cardinals in 1984. Ryno batted .314 in his third season as a Cub.
- R. Nelly

I have to say it straight up: Baseball’s just not my sport.

I'm just not a fan, and I’m pretty sure I never will be. Basketball’s always been the game that I’ve enjoyed following.

But Ryno’s the man! He’s the man NOW, and he always has been!

Today Ryne Nelson (whops! I mean Sandberg) was selected into Major League Baseball’s Hall of Fame. Three hundred and ninety-three (393) veteran members of the Baseball Writers Association of America selected Sandburg to enter the Hall, six more the necessary amount.

He’s a nine-time Gold Glove winner at second base, 1984 National League MVP, holder of the major league record for career fielding percentage (.989) by a second baseman, three-time league leader in runs, and an All-Star for 10 straight seasons.

He’s arguably the BEST player to ever play second base, and yet I never really saw the dude play ball.

Yeah, this is the man who I was named after.

Well, there was that one time in ’96 that I made the trip out the Wrigley with my summer sports camp as part of a field trip. But even then we had to leave the game early, only watching about four innings.

As a nine-year-old kid, going into the fifth grade, there’s not much that I remember about the game. My most distinct memory was pointing Ryno out to my friend Brendan from our nosebleed seats as we arrived late in the middle of the second.

He’s the BEST player to ever play second base, and yet I never really saw the dude play ball. Yeah, this is the man who I was named after.

“Who’s good on the Cubs?” he asked.

“Ryne Sandburg’s the best,” I replied, pointing my glove toward second base.

“Which one is he?”

“He’s wearing the number 23.”

“Ohhh. He wear’s Michael’s number? He’s got to be pretty good then,” Brendan replied.

There's no doubt that his best years were mostly before my time, and his impact on the city of Chicago was unfairly eclipsed by Michael Jordan’s exploits (MJ came back for the first time just before Ryno). That's why it's not entirely uncommon for people my age to not even know who Ryne Sandburg is!

But in eighteen years, he’s still the only other Ryne that I know, and that’s more than enough for me…Respect, Ryno!

This is a proud day for Sandburg — who, after two unsuccessful attempts, was finally selected to be enshrined in Cooperstown —, the Chicago Cubs organization and all of the team’s fans.

It’s only now, though, that I realize that it wasn’t just the name that somehow kept me blindly following the career of this Hall of Fame inductee. It was something much more.

It was the intrigue of following a player who, every year, persistently revolutionized the position of second base.

I didn’t know much about Sandberg as a person, and as I mentioned, baseball was never my sport, but for what he did to the game — it’s all love.

And although I never really saw the man play, I’m proud to say that there’s no one else I’d rather be named after.

Hail Employee No. 23! Ryno’s in the Hall!

Dining in Cashmere

King James chills at an incredibly popular photo shoot for SLAM Magazine the summer BEFORE his rookie season. Although James didn't make the East's Top 12 players last year, the hype was still there in full.
- R. Nelly

I was really hoping for a nice pancakes, eggs and bacon breakfast this morning. So much that I even dreamt about it.

Waking up to the cadence of a silver bird chime, I hopped out of bed this morning, slipped on my smooth, full grain leather slippers and had someone slide on my 6 lb., warm as heck, burgundy Cashmere robe.

I walked downstairs to the kitchen, bathing in the strong scents of smoked beef bacon and buckwheat pancakes filled with plump blueberries and lightly dusted with powdered sugar. Sweet aromas so thick that you could cut them with a knife.

The dream seemed so real that I even told other people about it. I talked so much about this morning’s breakfast that I started to convert followers. My talk was so smooth and real that they decided to call me “Butta.” Soon enough the entire United States was believing that I would have this AMAZING breakfast at my house this morning.

9 a.m. sharp, in Cashmere and all.

Yeah, and I know what y’all are thinking at this point. Why don’t I just call myself King James while I’m at it and finish the story.

Okay, I’ll call myself the King, but allow me a moment to explain.

Let’s take a look at the potential NBA MPV candidates at this point, in no particular order:

• Amare Stoudemire
• Tim Duncan
• LeBron James
• Kevin Garnett
• Dwyane Wade
• Steve Nash
• Shaquille O'Neal
• Kobe Bryant
• Ray Allen
• Allen Iverson

Sorry to Dirk and Franchise, but these are my Top 10 candidates for the L’s most prestigious award right now.

In that list, we’re lookin’ at leaders of winning teams, future Hall of Famers, ten lucrative shoe contracts, future and past actors and leaders in almost every category statisticians can think up.

Really, the heart of today’s NBA.

But as of right now, at this very second, LeBron James is NOT playing the best among players on that list.

He is NOT wearing the Cashmere robe.

Talk to Dickie V. Talk to Sam Smith. Stephen A. Smith. Bill Walton. Stewart Scott. Talk to basically any other self-proclaimed NBA mogul, and he’ll be sayin’ that James is the best of the best of the best.

I say they’re all reachin’ at something not much more than a dream — a dream called hype.

Caught up in all the games on ESPN, TNT and ABC, the numerous Nike Chamber of Fear commercials and his insane talent at an insane age of 20, these media members have become nothing more than rats following the pied piper!

And, in their fervor over James this season, people are overlooking the REAL MVP of the L — the league’s best player for three straight seasons. The MVP of the 2004-’05 season is none other than Kevin Garnett.

Don’t believe me? Let’s evaluate:

Well, stat comparison does James supporters no good because KG is better in most — and at least comparable in a very few — statistical categories. Also, the two don’t even play the same position.

It’s like smoked beef bacon vs. buckwheat pancakes.

Compare records, you say. Look at how the Cavs are second in their conference and the T-Wolves are number six, you yell.

Well, what’s the REAL difference in record, bro? Yeah, it’s one game.

If the Cavs were in the West, their record would also place them behind five other teams, and who knows how they would fare playing two-thirds of their season in a conference where teams with losing records DON’T go to the playoffs.

So people really need to face it: LeBron James is NOT the MVP this season. Get away from the hype and enter the real! Society needs to stop DREAMIN’.

‘Cause when it all finally came down to it this morning I was rudely awakened at 10:33 by my mom and sister yelling in the bedroom next to mine.

I was not that King I dreamt about.

Shivering, I quickly threw on a thin, white undershirt and headed downstairs to dine on my…Frosted Flakes. Harsh, cold, reality check. And, looking at my cereal, pissed that I NEVER get to eat a good breakfast, I made a realization of my own:

Sometimes…it hurts more to dream.

KG for MVP!