Acquisition: More Stro Show Cards

Turns out there's another Stromile Swift card collector on this planet.  Well, actually, I should say there was another.  He's in the process of selling his collection, so it's just me now.  Pictured above are the first five auctions' worth of cards I've obtained from this former collector.

My favorite from these 12 cards is the one on which Stromile shares real estate with Tarence Kinsey, especially the one with the gold trim and lettering.  That one is rare -- serial numbered out of 50 -- and it has also got a zigzaggy, multicolor, multilayer piece of Stromile's jersey on it.  I'm a total nerd, so such things excite me.  But the real reason I made this post is to speak briefly on Tarence Kinsey.

Kinsey's NBA career was basically a 59-game cup of coffee with the Memphis Grizzlies around 2007, which means I witnessed almost every minute of it.  From time to time, I still consider how impressive he was.  He was skinny but athletic and assertive, and an asset on defense.  He could be described as everyone's favorite basketball player adjective, long, and he had a stoic composure about him that exuded confidence.  He also had a cool chin beard and just generally seemed like a likeable fellow.  The Grizzlies' redneck commentators loved him.  Especially the time he hammered a real banger on Andrei Kirilenko.



Actually those are Utah's commentators.  See, they were impressed, too.

Kinsey, in 20 MPG over 49 games, averaged a respectable 7.7 PPG on 46% from the floor in '06/07.  Then he appeared in just 11 games the next season, rode the bench in Cleveland for a minute, and was off to Europe.  I'm not sure whether he chose for monetary reasons to leave for Europe or was simply unable to catch on with another NBA squad, but I felt he was plenty good enough to make it in the league.  Kinsey's '06/07 PER (I never cite PER because I think it's pretty stupid, but for the sake of comparison, I'm kind of stuck with it) was 13, which is better than many of his peers who have played around a decade in the NBA, such as JJ Redick, Mickael Pietrus, Carlos Delfino, John Salmons, and Marvin Williams. 

Kinsey could ball, man, and I'm glad they put him on a Stromile Swift basketball card.

NBA Doodles, Round Three

The best one- (and two- and three-) liners from Gucci Mane's latest masterpiece

Listen

#10: Gucci Mane La Flare, I'm the fucking boss.  I pull my pistol out to get my point across.

No trap rap tune/compilation of trap rap tunes has truly begun until a declarative statement of boss status has been made and a pistol has been pulled out.  This list will be no different.

 #9: No shirt in Miami ridin' on a scooter, I'm wrastlin' with the work you can call me Lex Luger.

Gucci Mane eatin', and he ain't ashamed.  And when it comes to that work, he's got his competition against the ropes. 

#8: Haters keep on mumblin' but Gucci I'm not fumblin', fell back down got up again, I excel 'cause I'm excellent.

Excellence in some things is simply inherent. Gucci Mane knows this, along with the fact that he's that dude, so he keeps his rhyme simple, stupid.

 #7: So much cash pants like Hammer Pants.

Big Gucci has guap, and there ain't no gotdam't way it's fitting into some skinny jeans. 

#6: Make a lot of money that's the way that I maneuver, Gucci Mane the shit bitch, yeah, I'm the manure.

Take notes, Lil Wayne. 

#5: And I know two Jews, eat a case like it's fast food.

Gucci treats the courtroom like he treats a number three with a coke. 

#4: Bitches say that I'm just [inaudible], I told her her trash another bitch treasure.

I can't entirely make out what Gucci professes here, but the point is that he knows how to keep them bitches moving. 

#3: You know I sell dope in my sleep but I don't sleep.

Gucci don't fuck with the cousin of death, but if he did, he'd sell him some dope. 

#2: Too many Lambos in the parking lot they threw me out the subdivision.

Gucci Mane got stupid cake, and, apparently, the absolute most extreme white people problem. 

#1: Gucci pull up paddle shiftin' on 'em Pole Position.

.
Plus this whole track.

Aquisition: Custom Stromile Swift Lego Figure

I call him... Legomile Swift.

The order to create Legomile Swift was placed months and months and months ago.  I had completely forgotten about him.  Apparently the EBay seller had some difficulties with his account at the time, and he lost a lot of information relating to certain orders.  That's why Legomile Swift just arrived today.  For the inconvenience, the seller also included Legobe Bryant, who can be seen in the background.

I'm glad the EBay seller went through with the order despite whatever difficulties had taken place and all the time that had passed.  It's nice to know that there are still some people out there who actually care about doing what they say they'll do.  That's not to mention that it was simply a pleasant surprise to receive Legomile Swift on this Friday.  When I saw the package, I thought he was a textbook.  So that was awesome.

Legomile Swift looks much, much cooler in person.  He sports his signature headband, elbow sleeve, and he even has tattoos.  Even the box is highly detailed.  Probably the only way this could get any cooler would be if Legomile Swift's arms and hands could be configured into a "Stro Show" signal.
 
On a semi-related note, I think it might be time I invest in a half decent camera.  It's making me super frustrated that I can't share with all three of my readers Legomile Swift in all his glory.

NBA Doodles, Round Two

Shawn Kemp and JR Smith were supposed to be included in this post, too, but I forgot to scan Shawn Kemp before I gifted him away and I lost JR Smith.

Acquisition: Bill Walton's signature on Rick Pitino's face

For the same reason I wanted to buy this, my coworker wanted to sell it.

I like Bill Walton -- who doesn't -- but I'm not so big a fan of his that I would normally purchase his autograph.  His playing career was long before my time, and as much as I've enjoyed his distinctive broadcasting work, I don't really collect commentators' signatures.  Plus, Walton is a Hall of Famer, an all-time great; my collection tends to celebrate those players of lesser accomplishment, maybe like Bill's son, Luke (except Luke never could run, or jump, or dribble, or do anything else remotely interesting, so no).

Rick Pitino became head coach of the Celtics when I was about nine years old.  He was the first in a short string of coaches who looked peculiarly similar the team's mascot, and he led the likes of Antoine Walker, Mark Blount, Walter McCarty, Kenny Anderson, and a young Paul Pierce to three and a half losing seasons.  Tough times for Celtics diehards.

Although I grew up in the greater Boston area, I am certainly not a Celtics diehard.  If I had a favorite team when I was young it was the Blazers or the 76ers, but that's only because I was so fond of 'Sheed and AI.  So I suppose that's why I have warm and fuzzy memories of the Pitino era in Boston.  I didn't give a crap that they were losing, I just enjoyed the team for what it was.

The team, for what it was, was totally dysfunctional and kind of hilarious.  Antoine Walker and his tippy-toe threes were the focal point of the offense (and All-Star Weekend).  Walter McCarty and his threes were the focal point of Tommy Heinsohn.  Mark Blount and his remarkable laziness were the focal point of my father's curse words.  Through the eyes of an indifferent 10-year-old, it was a great deal of fun.

Bill Walton's signature came to be on Rick Pitino's face roughly 15 years ago, when my coworker ventured to Boston to get a firsthand look at the future, a rookie by the name of Pierce.  But neither Walton nor Pierce would be the most iconic Celtic in the building that night, as Larry Bird was on hand to coach the opposing Indiana Pacers.  For the sake of making this story as awesome as possible, I'm going to say the game in question is the one in which Pierce and the great Vitaly Potapenko combined for 56 points... although, admittedly, it just as easily could've been the one in which they combined for less than half that many.

Normally, I would look at this program, a mismatch between item and inscription, and feel unmoved.  It's like the basketball card featuring your favorite player and Wally Szczerbiak, or that gorgeous pair of Air Jordans made personally for Jared Jeffries.  It's just not cool.

But this program, I feel, encapsulates Celtics history in a way that is not often presented... in a more complete way, I would say.

Bill Walton's signature represents the most successful of times past, the aura of legend and historical greatness that surrounds the franchise.  Simultaneously, Rick Pitino's likeness reminds us that the Celtic timeline consists of more than just Bill Russell, Larry Bird, victory cigars, and O'Brien Trophies.  It reminds us that, for the better part of the past three decades, it has been forgotten periods of strife, swept aside by a brief renaissance, that have dominated the record.

So I enjoy this item because it has, and also tells, an entire story.  I can look at Bill Walton's signature and appreciate the greatness of Boston basketball, and I can look through the signature to Rick Pitino's face and cherish the memories of my youth -- my precious youth, which, unfortunately, like Bird and McHale and Parrish, is not walking through that door.

NBA Doodles

Greetings, internet!  As you might've noticed, I haven't done much writing lately.  Actually, that's not true at all... I've scribbled enough characters this summer to compose three or four novels. I just haven't done much blogging.   To the readers who enjoy this blog, I apologize for that.

I've had an eventful summer.  Over the past three months, I've literally done more socializing than I had in the five, maybe even ten years prior.  People who know me would be shocked to learn that I recently drank my first beer, and have since had a handful more (note that this handful has been consumed one at a time, spaced out by at least 24 hours).  I've got a full-time job and a part-time job.  I was enrolled in two summer courses, and I'm taking six more this fall.  I still play pickup basketball from time to time.  People contact me and ask me to do stuff; sometimes multiple people at the same time, even.  Shockingly (to me, at least), such frequent exposure to idle chitchat, loud noises, terrible music, and relatively large crowds has not destroyed me. 

Basically, I don't think I've ever been so busy with non-independent/basketball endeavors in all my life.  Whether or not that's a good thing, I've yet to decide.

Despite that I've been so busy, I have not ceased to kill time, wherever I can find time to kill.  At my office job, I've spent hours upon hours doodling -- mostly little pictures for my coworkers, but more recently, NBA subject matter.

Here are a couple samples.

YAOCH!

K-MART

I loved to draw when I was a young.  I used to draw skateboarders, mostly.  It's been fun doing something similar at this stage in my life.  I never thought I'd start drawing again in any capacity, and, although I realize these doodles aren't exactly masterpieces, I've been pleased with the results.  Not that the results matter -- I'm just having fun with it.