Money

In honor of his induction into the Hall, MJ gets the special treatment. I don't think I ever grew up under the impression that this man wasn't God. Without MJ, my life would be a 180. I would've been a WR, sweating every day, trying to be the next Randy Moss. It would've been gloves and cleats instead of Spauldings and Js.

MJ was ball growing up. It never registered with me that there were 29 other teams. Chicago was all that mattered. Since he retired, I've been searching for a replacement cus that void is still there. Every time I watch videos on youtube or look at all my old basketball cards, it brings back childhood: one-on-one games in the backyard to 50, 6 am morning calls for Sportscenter, the 301, the 4th grade. I will miss you MJ.

(thanks to hoopsencyclopedia for making these incredible mixes)




A lot talking heads want to proclaim Mike as something short of what he was because of his Hall Of Shame speech. Contrary, Mike was all that. Arrogant. Self-absorbed. Could he fly? In his mind, he was never the passenger, drove the A to heights no one ever thought would happen. To someone like me? He was just the perfect blend. What other leaning, double-pumping J look so wet? Hell, I probably would've kissed him on the cheek if I ever met him. He made a weight-lifting, rap-digesting, six-pack loving man like me gay. Just for a moment though. When he hit that shot against Utah, the crossover on Mr. Russell, the spank and the splash, I was gay. When he was clutching that ball on Father's Day, rocking the bred 11s, I was gay. And millions of kids growing up were in love with him.

That ferocity, that self-drive and that maniacal approach to winning are characteristics I've tried to emulate forever. I want to be the best at whatever I do. No one better to study than the greatest athlete God ever created.

So Kobe, this is my shout-out to you. You want to have billboards in Barcelona? You want to be on Wheaties, on little girls' myspace pages, sitting on the tongues of everyone in every barbershop in the world? You are going to need every bead of sweat, every five-foot pull-up better be done with max efficiency. You have to be greater than the machines that make cars, smarter than every Harvard graduate. It is going to take something better than liquid fuel. You might have to have surgery, get cougar muscles put in your legs.

Because MJ is God around here. You are struggling to make that climb and oh, what a long climb it's going to be. 4 titles at 30? Feels more like 1 at 35. That's how bad people want to see you fail. 81 won't do it for you. All-time scoring leader won't be the key. 6 titles? Nah, you are going to need more than that. So you better be in the gym, and Ron Artest better be with you. You better give Phil some of that 'feel-young again' medicine. This mission won't work by yourself. This ain't Troy and you ain't Achilles. MJ is eyeing you too. Remember that. He is watching too, knowing his end marks the beginning...

Sorry y'all I got fired up watching some youtube clips. Haha- peace and love to Tha Family.