Houston, heed my sanguine plea!!!!

Apologies to the Brown Recluse and THC, who have heard this idea before in a far more idiotic early form.

In the aftermath of the Nets’ anticlimactic sweep, one thing’s clear: a lousy playoff anthem can sink a team. But that doesn’t mean we should go and give up on music paving the road to a championship; the Nets just managed to have come up with a lackluster theme song for what, barring a sonic miracle, would have been a lackluster playoff showing anyway,

The Rockets are this close to (or, were two late-game collapses away from) putting some dark-horse-becoming-giant-darkly-colored-swan-monster fear in the hearts of the West. Clearly, all they need to take that last, largely symbolic baby step towards destiny is the right song. For me, at least, the solution couldn’t be more obvious.

For the last month or so, every time Mike James takes a shot I imagine him exclaiming to himself “I’m Mike James!” It’s not so ridiculous a comparison—both are underdogs that come with more impressive, emphatic shit than you’d expect, given their everguy image and a style that should be a prescription for middling obscurity. In both cases, when it comes off it's probably only because they believe in themselves so much at any given moment (and seem to want us to know it). And, with Mike Jones proving key to Houston rap’s bid for national success, Mike James the anti-face of the supporting cast T-Mac and Yao need to be more than a two-man show, and Houston generally on the rise (okay, that’s a stretch), the stars have aligned and it’s time to make moves!!!!!

Dear Rockets organization, if you’re listening, I propose you commission the good folks at Swishahouse to record yet another “Still Tippin’” remix, on which each emcee plays the part of a different Rockets team member. Nevermind that “Still Tippin’,” equal parts triumphalism and groggy, lean-fuelled menace, should probably be played on a loop at the T-Mac Museum (opened in 2020, under the Yao Ming “Valley Unto the Sky” glass-and-metal installation); the thought of Slim Thug giving voice to JVG’s inner-bulldog, or Paul Wall ennobling Bobby Sura once and for all, would be enough to get the whole United States nation behind them.

Of course, the unquestioned highlight would be “He’s Mike James/I’m Mike Jones.”