You Can Talk About Your Day, I'll Pretend I'll Listen

"They'll be coming down North Elm, through Dealy Plaza. Jackie will be wearing pink. You will have 5 seconds to get a clear shot."


Dropping science? Larry Krystkowiak is dropping English right about now. Check out the Bucks, frozen in time. I don't know what those two seatwarmers are doing with their Bash Brothers throwback shit. Way to keep your eyes on the prize, though. PS: I heard that staring intently at the Bucks Energee Dancers doesn't get 'em any closer to your condo bedroom (where all the magic happens, right, player!). Just passing that along.

What them dudes were missing was Coach Larry, aka the Mariano of the downtown Milwaukee Marriott, breaking out some new ways of living. You may remember Lar from such films as Draft Night 9-6: You Could've Had Jeff Hornacek But You Got So Much More, and Stotts Fired: Loso's Revenge. Last night he laid down the blueprint plans for his Buck La Familia. And while the squad is currently populated with more Bleeks than Beanies, more Neefs than Chris', more Nicole Wrays than Rells (am I frightening you? Shall I continue?) the Antlers pulled out some shocking shit on the Spurs last night, winning 101-90.

Amongst the various reasons for the Bucks victory was the off-the-milk-carton-and-onto-Sportscenter performance of former Temple U guard, Lynn Greer. You rewind this, North Philly behind this! Greer put in 14 points in 15 minutes like he was channeling Chris Jackson, Todd Day and the autistic dunny from upstate New York who made me cry! That's like 47 points per 48 minutes, right? Somebody check my math!

Greer got his one shot to blow because Bucks captain Mo Williams (CAPTAIN MO) spazzed the fuck out at being called for a foul. Coach Kryst put it this way: "The door closed for Mo tonight, and the door opened for Lynn"

Was it the same door? Did they see each other on the way out? Was that awkward?! Is Mo Williams permanently shut the fuck out like John Wayne at the end of The Searchers?! Is he just speaking euphemistically!? Was he putting subliminals in his rhymes, sending a shot towards fellow '96 draftmates Panagiotis "Pana" Fasoulas and David Wingate? I don't know, team. For whatever reasons the press gang did not ask these important questions and we are left with the smoldering aftermath of the unknown.