Oh, come on, old timer. No need to be shy with me. Hell, I’ll tell you about how mine are hangin’. Ask anybody, and they’ll tell you — I’m very, very open about how mine hang. Just dig talkin’ ’bout ’em. Always have, I guess; ever since I could remember, I’ve just kinda dug lettin’ folks know about m’balls.
Sure, I’ve got my hand over ’em now — but that’s just to draw your eyes down there. So now you’re lookin at ’em. And you’re thinkin’ about ’em. Am I right? Of course I am.
Admit it: You can’t help but think about Esteban Loaiza’s balls, Santa Claus. Know how you feel. I can’t either.
Two cases, Gold Bond Medicated Powder. Because obviously.
A ticket to the premiere of the new A-Team movie. Always loved Hannibal. Not sure if you knew that about me.
Hey Santa! What’s up, man? That’s good, REAL good — bet you’re excited for the big night, huh? Fuckin’ game day, right? I’d be so psyched. You’re gonna kill it, bro, don’t even fuckin’ sweat it.
Things are fuckin’ AWESOME here, man. Healthy, happy, on a team that occasionally gets its shit together … can’t ask for much more’n’that, bro, right?
Come on, man, hell yeah I can! It’s Christmas! Segue king, right? If you could hook me up with a couple of these, it’d be huge. HUGE. Thanks, champ.
That the Chase Budinger Asher Roth record was shelved in the Country aisle of Target’s music section when I went there to buy “Madden ’10” and “NCAA ’10.”
That there is an art gallery on Newbury Street in Boston called “The Martin Lawrence Gallery.” Wonder if they have that new Brother Man exhibit, or if the collection focuses mostly on the “Black Knight” period.
The least romantic meeting place ever (via my office building). And yes, those are rose petals.
An old poster promoting the DVD release of “What Happens in Vegas,” defaced with what I’ve taken to calling “the Kutchshot.”
The idea that Eddy Curry + curry powder + “Powder” could = Eddy Curry Powder, and the idea that someone with Photoshop skills could make something beautiful out of that.
That my friend nicknamed me “The Dad Whisperer,” owing to my estimable talents at engaging parents in conversation, and that another friend’s first reaction was to begin acting out the “Horse Whisperer” psyche-out from “BASEketball” (head to the 3:23 mark):
What’s made you laugh recently, y’all? Tell Andre Dawson here.
You got to understand, Paul, it ain’t like when we were kids. Nowadays, you just yell some mess about flaming sexes, the girls start losing they minds, and the boys’re gonna go wherever the girls are, am I right? I’m not sayin’ these Leon fellas can play a lick, but they give your boys somethin’ they can have together, separate from you and Lucille, and that’s gotta count for somethin’, right?
Now, look here, Paul: Way I see it, we got two choices. On the one hand, we can keep on hammerin’ away at the kids, talkin’ ’bout how what they need to do is deep-six these young Nashvile fellas and how what they should be doin’ is soul-kissin’ to Al Green. Or, we can have ourselves a nice sit in these beautiful pleather chairs you got here, and you can tell me what’s really on your mind.
How’s you and Lucille, Paul?
EDITOR’S NOTE: Andre Dawson is not a licensed psychologist or trained counselor; he’s just seen a lot, is all. If you have relationship-, parenting- or cutoff-man-related questions for the Hawk, please send them here.
A neat little sidebar running with Chris Broussard’s ESPN.com story about the impending trade of Shaquille O’Neal from Phoenix to Cleveland (dude just stays getting put alongside All-Eternity wings, huh?) provides a win-loss breakdown of the impact that the Emperor of Big Men has had when coming to a new team. Nestled within said sidebar is an interesting nugget about how Shaq’s arrival in the desert was a little different:
At first glance, you might think this a simple mistake — that in his/her haste to assemble the sidebar and get it posted up as soon as possible, the ESPN.com staffer accidentally wrote “abomination” when “aberration” was the intended choice. (Mr. Todd Ruffin has cast his vote for this possibility.)
But the screen-grab was taken at about 8:30AM Eastern time; it’s now 12PM, and the word remains unchanged. Which leads me to believe that there’s another, more frightening, way more stupidly obvious explanation:
When he was traded from Miami to Phoenix, Shaq realized he’d have to do battle with a variety of skilled, agile and quick big men in the Western Conference — many of whom are younger and more gifted than he is at this stage in his career. And the Diesel knew he needed a leg up.
An upleg that came from a series of injections of an experimental, gamma-irradiated serum.
While the typically morally bankrupt Suns-employed doctors warned of potentially horrifying side effects, things worked out pretty well for Shaq, who averaged 18 points and 8 rebounds a game (those are Mehmet Okur numbers!) in his only full season with Phoenix. But as the aforementioned sidebar indicates, it didn’t work out so hot for the Suns, who are now a not-so-good team that makes mad Internet kids sad, because does anybody remember Seven Seconds or Less and when fun times were going to last forever?
But now, Shaq’s revitalized unholy strength and speed come to a new city. One can only hope that the rumored apocalyptic reptilian freakouts that allegedly led Steve Kerr to pull the trigger don’t manifest themselves in Cleveland.
Lord knows that downtown can’t take much more destruction.
Do you love New York, and also are a fan o’ tha Knixx? If so, you must pretty stoked about the Summer of 2010. I don’t know if you heard, but by clearing out cap space, making mad moves and shedding the bloody spectre of Zeke by winning the mother of all games of Risk with Florida International University Director of Athletics Pete Garcia, team president Donnie Walsh has Dominant Team Pringles pointed in the right direction.
According to accurate Internet reports, the Meltface Killah has already locked up the contractual rights to LeBron James, Dwyane Wade, Chris Bosh, a possibly re-energized DMX, “The Man of 1000 Holds” Dean Malenko, effeminate comedian Greg Proops and Randy Quaid, who, as we all know, is the Alpha Quaid.
But all that pales in comparison to the news this week that the Knicks may start the party a year early. The New York Post reported Monday that Orlando Magic backup center Marcin Gortat is high on the team’s wish list, and that Walsh could look to spend New York’s $5 million mid-level exception on “The Polish Hammer,” a.k.a. “The Warlock,” a.k.a. “Maxi-Me,” a.k.a. “Marcin Ndegeocello.”
You’re probably thinking: Bummer. We’ve already given a multi-year mid-level contract to a backup center who showed flashes for one good season series, and that didn’t turn out too well. But you’re forgetting one thing — the immeasurable cultural electricity and citywide excitement that could result from one simple event, one tiny little appearance that we could, as a fanbase, WILL INTO REALITY next summer if Walsh gets that deal done:
I haven’t felt all that interested in sports of late. Sure, there are a million reasonstolovetheNBAplayoffs, there’s all sorts of anger-gold to be mined in rooting for a baseball team with a $147 million payroll that now has Alex Cora batting leadoff, it’s nice and schadenfreude-y to watch Brad Lidge’s inevitable crash-and-burn after a golden summer in the sun, etc. But nothing in the sports landscape has really grabbed my attention by its attention-throat and throttled it into idle weekend-afternoon submission.
In times like these, I eschew spending time with cherished family and dear friends in favor of watching video clips online.
The video above has nothing to do with sports, but it does have something to do with jokes — specifically, when jokes go awry, and how splendid an experience that can be. I think Colin Quinn is a fantastic stand-up comic and comedy writer; I am well aware that many people do not share that opinion, but we’ll just have to agree to disagree. That’s at least partially why thesevideos (which must be at least 13-15 years old) of Quinn flaming out on Comedy Central’s The A List are so fantastic — he is eminently aware of not only that he is bombing, but also how badly he is bombing, why it’s happening and that every grasping attempt to right the ship will be futile. What grows out of that self-awareness is a sort of director’s commentary on a set in shambles, one that I hope those of you who like jokes might find compelling.
this is the city line. 
Knicks fans, the future of excitement is now
Do you love New York, and also are a fan o’ tha Knixx? If so, you must pretty stoked about the Summer of 2010. I don’t know if you heard, but by clearing out cap space, making mad moves and shedding the bloody spectre of Zeke by winning the mother of all games of Risk with Florida International University Director of Athletics Pete Garcia, team president Donnie Walsh has Dominant Team Pringles pointed in the right direction.
According to accurate Internet reports, the Meltface Killah has already locked up the contractual rights to LeBron James, Dwyane Wade, Chris Bosh, a possibly re-energized DMX, “The Man of 1000 Holds” Dean Malenko, effeminate comedian Greg Proops and Randy Quaid, who, as we all know, is the Alpha Quaid.
But all that pales in comparison to the news this week that the Knicks may start the party a year early. The New York Post reported Monday that Orlando Magic backup center Marcin Gortat is high on the team’s wish list, and that Walsh could look to spend New York’s $5 million mid-level exception on “The Polish Hammer,” a.k.a. “The Warlock,” a.k.a. “Maxi-Me,” a.k.a. “Marcin Ndegeocello.”
You’re probably thinking: Bummer. We’ve already given a multi-year mid-level contract to a backup center who showed flashes for one good season series, and that didn’t turn out too well. But you’re forgetting one thing — the immeasurable cultural electricity and citywide excitement that could result from one simple event, one tiny little appearance that we could, as a fanbase, WILL INTO REALITY next summer if Walsh gets that deal done:
Marcin Gortat at Hot 97 Summer Jam.
To help you visualize how dope that would be, we here at this is the city line. have created a crude artist’s rendering:
And also filed this real photograph of Marcin giving the ladies something to think about:
Marcin Gortat = Drake 2.0?
Don’t blow this, Donnie.
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Tagged at this is the city line. there is mekhi phifer, chris bosh, dominant team pringles, dwyane wade, free agency, fun with photos, jay-z marcin runnin' this rap ish, lebron james, marcin gortat, missed u earl, new york knicks, not as excited about greg proops guarding elite wings, oh how nice they let the four-year-old use photoshop, please leave your favorite marcin gortat aliases in the comments, pretty excited for dean malenko as a defensive point guard off the bench, randy quaid is the alpha quaid and this is not up for debate, stop feeling drake, wow that's a lot of tags