An Archive of Previous Misadventures in Saturday Balling

I'm posting up all the past installments of my "Saturday Balling" entries. Why? I don't know. For posterity's sake, I suppose. Went through the trouble of writing them so I might as well keep them. No one's gonna look at this anyway, so whatever. Maybe it'll all end up being something funny to laugh at in fifteen or twenty years.

08/29/09

This past Saturday was rather eventful, as some of you may already
have known. Not too many ETCers showed up. It was just Garland
"Chris Paul" Woo, Jeff "McInnis" Yim, and me. (Two of my old high
school pals rounded out the team.) Yes... The Fob Academy was in
full force once again.

I got to the courts first. Surprisingly, there was nobody there.
Literally. For a while, I was the only dude there, so I was just
shooting around until people started arriving. The Fob Academy
arrived after like half an hour or something, as did Garland and one
of my other friends. We started off with some three-on-three. That
game was pretty forgettable, but I'm pretty sure the good guys
triumphed, 'cause evil never prevails. One of the fobs was okay (he
could shoot) but the other two were just kind of tall and slender.
Not too many actual skills that concerned me.

Once the rest of the Academy and my other friend arrived, it was on.
There were two other guys there, so the Academy got one of them and we
took the other. Full court, five-on-five. (Jeff showed up a few
minutes into our game, if memory serves.) It started off as a pretty
ugly game. Lazy fobs resorted to a 2-3 zone 'cause none of them could
man-up. Lousy wusses. We were missing our outside shots for a while,
and one of my friends wasn't boxing out so we kept getting beat on the
rebounds on offense and defense. The Fob Academy probably had six or
eight offensive rebounds and, like, two second-chance points. (Their
field goal percentage was pretty low, I'd say. One of the guys kept
grabbing boards but he had the filthiest shooting form I've seen in my
life, and even though he tried, he could never get it in.)

As you know, Garland got injured during the game. What many of you
may not know, however, is how he was injured. This is what happened:

Hurm. Well, I was gonna make up a story to make him seem superheroic
and everything, but after at least fifteen minutes of trying, I've
come to realize that I'm just not that creative, so I'll stick to the
truth. The basic story is that he twisted his left knee something
fierce after he threw down a vicious tomahawk jam on the fobs. The
Asian man's body just isn't built to withstand such thunderous
athletic activity at such intense speeds, so his knee buckled.

At the time, we didn't know how serious his injury was. We just
stopped playing, carried him off the court, and hoped he'd get
better. Jeff came into the game and took his place. He joined in at
the right time, too, 'cause we must have been down like 8-2. He was
definitely the difference-maker in the game.

Them fobs were dirty, too. For example, we made a shot from beyond
the arc, so we thought it was worth two. However, they started saying
that every shot was only worth one point - AFTER they had counted two
of their own three-point shots as two points! So even though they had
nine or ten points at the time, they really should have had two fewer
points. This was seriously the kind of argument that starts fights at
streetball courts. We decided not to start a fight, so we just
acquiesced, humoring their deceitfulness.

And course, being the Fob Academy, they called tons of stupid fouls.
Every week I go, I see these guys, and every week they call about
thirty extra fouls. I hate that... For example, one of them would
just try to drive in from the top of the key, and he expects a foul,
so he calls it immediately. It's friggin' stupid. I don't know why I
even play them. (Other than the fact that there is often no one else
to play.) They argued and whined every single possession. They had
this one possession where they called four fouls. Shoot, I'm
surprised they didn't start saying that our players should have fouled
out.

I managed to exact some measure of vengeance, though, when I had the
ball and drove to the sideline. One of the fobs' legs barely brushed
me, and I immediately called a foul. Then I picked up the ball and
looked 'em all in the eye. That was pretty satisfying. I guess after
that, they either felt ashamed or scared, and they didn't call too
many fouls.

So, like I said, with Jeff in the game, we had new life. We had a
great comeback. Jeff was sinking jumpers, slashing to the hoop, and
finding ways for his teammates to score. Eventually, it became a one-
point game that just started going back and forth. It was around this
point when one of the fobs, this dude in a blue shirt, started getting
all loud and cocky and whatnot. I guess he thought he was rallying
his teammates or something, by shouting things like, "They can't do
this!" and "We can make it!" but I thought he just seemed like a
tool. None of his teammates seemed to respond to him verbally,
either, he looked silly. He'd make a shot and then pound his chest
and scream... Now, if he were Kevin Garnett, I'd be intimidated, but
he was just some skinny Asian guy at Lowell. Not really the same.

That blue shirt fob really had it in for me, though. He kept looking
at me and trying to take me off the dribble and stuff. We started
playing a little rough as the game progressed. To his credit, he
didn't call a foul every time I made contact with him. (It was more
like every other time.) We got tangled once or twice fighting for
some loose balls and he tried to trip me. I ain't gonna lie to you
all; I brought out some of my dirty tricks on him. I kinda pushed him
in the back a few times when we were fighting for rebounds and
"accidentally" elbowed him a few times. Pushing him in the back was
kind of dangerous because he was jumping and could have crashed into
the metal support pole for the hoop. I guess didn't really mind,
though.

The best part was that we finally managed to win the game. We were
playing "Win by Two" and it was hard-fought. Jeff made the assist on
the game-winning basket, too. He basically saved our honor and
pride. The look of disappointment and frustration on the fobs' faces
was great. I mean, a couple of the fobs seemed like nice people; one
of them actually seemed to show genuine concern when Garland went down
and helped me carry him off the court. But that blue shirt guy
irritated me. Yeah, I definitely didn't shake his hand and say, "Good
game" after we won. That's something I learned how to do from LeBron
James, baby!! Why would I want to shake hands with someone who wanted
to beat me up? IT DON'T MAKE NO SENSE

I think the blue shirt fob's shirt was some sort of Christian-based t-
shirt, too. It had some sort of Jesus Fish design on it and, I think,
the name of a church or something. Too bad. If I weren't a Christian
myself, I probably would have asked him, "Where is Jesus now?!" and
laughed at him or something.

In the future, I hope more of us would play ball on Saturday
mornings. Either we could have enough people to play amongst
ourselves, or we can simply continue to assert our dominance over the
Fob Academy. I think so far, I'm 5-0 lifetime against the Fob
Academy. They haven't defeated me yet, and I plan to continue the
streak.

WHO WILL RIDE WITH ME?!

08/22/09

Last Saturday was interesting. I encountered the same group of "pesky
fobs" that we played a couple weeks ago when the pastor played. When
I got to Lowell, it looked like they were running the Fob Academy
there... They had cones set up on one of the courts and they were
doing drills and stuff.

My buddy Chris (not the Birdman) was visiting from San Jose, and we
shot around while waiting to see if any ETCers would show up. While
we were warming up, the Fob Academy started doing footwork drills with
the cones and increased the intensity. Eventually they started
playing five-on-five. I don't know if they were trying to impress us,
but the Elbow Fob was there so I didn't respect their game. Also,
they had to stop every three seconds because someone would either call
a foul, a double dribble, or a moving screen.

After a while, my old friend Ken showed up. Three of the Fob Academy
members challenged Ken, Chris, and me to some three-on-three. While
we played, Justin "Timberlake" Travis Earnest Ho (aka TYRONE) and
Danny "Manning" Ng showed up. One of those fobs was pretty good. He
could make decent jumpshots and his handles were okay. The other two
fobs were just tall and had blond hair. It was close for a while. I
think we were actually down by six points but Chris started heating up
and the fobs had no answer. They had no interior d and we just kept
driving it to the hole. At one point during our run, one of the tall
fobs thought he could kill our momentum and tried to fire a long range
bomb, but I timed my jump correctly and swatted him back into his
mother's womb. That was pretty much the storyline of the first game I
won that day.

The next game we played was with the same three fobs. This time
Justin and Danny were on my team. Justin had no fear of getting his
ankles broken; the dude played in his sandals. Now, if you're a
regular baller, you know that there's a certain dress code for when
you go to the courts and play. I don't know what's more ridiculous,
showing up to a basketball court with intention of playing while
wearing jeans, or showing up wearing Birkenstocks. The decent fob
player took one look at Justin Travis and scoffed openly. I couldn't
understand what he said to his comrades in Chinese, but I bet it was
the fob equivalent of "This guy doesn't even have shoes. It's gonna
be a slaughter, so we might as well go easy on them."

So of course we still whipped their sorry derrieres. At one point,
the Fob Academy was like, "Okay, this Birkenstocks guy can score, we
better guard him." But by then it was all too late. I don't even
remember what the storyline of that game was. For those fobs, getting
beaten by a team with a guy wearing Birkenstocks was probably the most
humiliating and most degrading event of their entire lives. But for
us, it was just another Saturday.

Also, I must point out that Jean-Marc sent me an awesome text message:
"Better is one day in His courts than a thousand elsewhere." Psalm
84:10, baby! (Okay, so I had to Google the reference because I'm not
as spiritual as some of you others...) Let this be a call for any and
all of you who read these entries to also drag yourselves out to the
courts so we can worship God through our aggressive, but loving,
domination of lesser basketball players.

Taking this piece of encouragement to heart, I went back to the Lowell
courts later that afternoon. (Some of my old college buddies came
down to SF to visit me and play ball because our plans the previous
week were spoiled when I selflessly decided to give three bridesmaids
in distress a ride to Oakland.) So I almost literally spent one day
in His basketball courts.

My afternoon games were more intense five-on-five fullcourt games...
What's annoying is that we lost all three games we played, and to the
same basic group of people. (The Fob Academy had left by then.) The
first game we lost was by like one or two points, but it was my fault;
I made a lazy pass that led to an easy layup for the other team, and
that was the winning play for them.

The other two games we lost were crap, though. Those games were
basically two-man shows where two of my teammates just dominated the
ball and kept driving and trying to force up tough shots while the
other three of us kind of just stood around the perimeter. (The three
of us who didn't touch the ball much were angry at our other two
friends, but somehow we found it within ourselves to forgive them.)

In the second game we lost, there was this really annoying chubby
white guy on the other team. I think his name was Sherman. The dude
had absolutely zero basketball skills. His entire game consisted of
standing around and screaming, at the top of his lungs, "HE GOTS THAT,
BABY, HE GOTS THAT!" over and over. That's seriously all he did. He
didn't contribute to the game in any other way. He was just a body,
yelling that inane phrase on every single possession. That was his
way of playing defense. It's been a long time since I've encountered
a person that irritating, the type of person I wish I could punch in
the face without breaking my own hand. What angers me is that the
dude sucked and didn't contribute to his team's play, but I still
lost. Please pray that I will never see this guy again because if I
do, I will probably end up sinning when I end his life with my bare
hands.

On the other hand, I went the entire day without dropping a single f-
bomb, so at least there's that.

08/15/09

I don't know exactly what action took place last Saturday, as I wasn't
there. Some of you who were there told me that there was a decent
turnout, though, and some of the Focus kids showed up to play with and
learn from the veteran ETCers. From what I understand, Gilbert
"Arenas" Kwan aka AGENT ZERO was beasting on them all. Not sure if he
made anyone cry or quit the church, though. But I am glad he only
turned it on when I wasn't there to get crushed.

(For the record, I don't care how young a kid is; I will never
intentionally let him win. You should see me when I am playing ball
with fourth and fifth graders. I might let them make a couple of easy
shots to keep them encouraged, but I don't let them beat me. Gotta
toughen them up.)

It is nice that people are coming out on Saturdays to play the game.
It pleases me to hear that people are having good fellowship while
going all-out to destroy and humiliate every opponent that steps on
the court. That's basketball, baby. That's life. That's how the
world should be.

So the reason I wasn't able to play last Saturday was 'cause I went to
a wedding up in Sacramento. I was gonna play basketball with some of
my old college buddies that night, after the wedding, or maybe even on
Sunday afternoon, but something unexpected happened. I already told
some of you what happened, but I still think it is an amusing story.

It turned out that three out of the five bridesmaids needed a ride
back to Oakland. My buddy, the groom, made a general announcement
about it and said they were all single. It was basically every man's
dream scenario. Somehow, I don't know how, but somehow, I was the
only person at the wedding who was going back to the Bay Area.

(Sidenote: Our very own Chris "The Birdman" Wong also happened to be
at the same wedding, but for some reason he needed to stay in
Sacramento that night. When I asked him why, he said something about
having to sleep in his own comfortable bed. Typical.)

Anyway, despite my plans to play ball that night or the next day, I
ended up volunteering to give the three bridesmaids a ride back to the
Bay. But this was a game I had no idea how to play, if you get what
I'm saying. I mean, I know how to play basketball. I know I ain't
the greatest baller or anything, but at least I know how to play
enough to not utterly embarrass myself. I think I was just in over my
head.

Driving a hundred miles with three single bridesmaids (that I just
met) was a high pressure situation. I kept trying to think of
interesting things to say that could be interpreted as charmingly
disarming. Nothing. It seemed like our conversation throughout the
car ride was pleasant but completely platonic. No flirting, no
coquettishness, no nothing.

I even started driving at the speed limit, reasoning that driving
slower would allow us to share more time together, and that perhaps
I'd be able to think of something witty or at least leave a memorable
impression. Nope. Nothing happened. Sure, they thanked me and
everything, but I doubt they will remember my name in a week's time.

Maybe I should have tried harder to catch the garter during the
wedding reception. I could have grabbed it, you know. It seriously
went right to me, but I consciously decided not to stick up my hand
and I just let it fall on the floor. I wonder if that would have
helped me. That is something I will never know, and a regret I will
have to live with for the rest of my existence in this dark world.

I guess I am not clutch in real life.

08/08/09

I would like to make playing basketball on Saturday mornings a regular
thing, if possible. Lowell basketball courts, 11AM. I won't be able
to play this weekend, but I delegated and made Garland "Chris Paul"
Woo this week's honorary team captain. Hopefully any and all of you
who want to play ball will be encouraged to play this Saturday. If
not, then I will definitely be there next week the fifteenth. (Unless
we get raptured before that day comes, or something.)

This past Saturday was some good times, if I say so myself. Had a
decent turnout, probably around a dozen of us were there. Pastor
Alton showed up and I got to be on his team, so obviously we destroyed
the other guys we played. It was definitely one of those rare sports
moments when I felt comfortable believing that God was on my side, if
you know what I mean. I was also more motivated than usual to display
good sportsmanship and not cuss inadvertently.

The first game, we played amongst ourselves 'cause we had enough
people. My team won and then some pesky fobs had next, and they tried
to step up to us. Man, those guys were annoying. There were four of
them, so Garland was on their team. (I guess he is too old to stay up
past 11:15PM but not so old that he can't run around the basketball
court like Speedy Claxton in his prime.) They played like little
pansies (Garland excepted, of course), calling numerous fouls that
would have made even Tim Donaghy ashamed. Every little amount of
physical contact resulted in a foul for those guys. One of them even
tried to tell me I was setting a moving screen when I was simply
attempting to walk into position to set a legal pick one foot away
from the defender. And some other fella called a double dribble on
the Pastor! That's blasphemous. I don't know if I've ever seen
anyone call a double dribble in street ball.

Some of those guys could shoot, I suppose, but they were no match for
us once we decided to get tough. Pastor Alton exhorted us to "take it
inside" and just pound them like nails down low. Those lousy fobs
were soft like cotton candy and we swallowed them up in the paint.
MELT IN YOUR MOUTH, BABY

I also saw Gilbert "Arenas" Kwan and Chris "The Birdman" Wong after
they played tennis. I saw them playing basketball on one of the other
courts and I just didn't want none of that.

After most everyone left, I stayed and played another game with some
strangers. We played against that team of pesky fobs again. We
whooped them again, of course. It was bad. We had such a big lead
that one of the guys on my team was trying to do White Chocolate
behind-the-back passes on fastbreaks and stuff. I also had a really
satisfying block on one of those fobs. I think he wanted to call a
foul on it, but he was too busy trying not to cry from embarrassment.

Top 5 Punks in the NBA: The Dru Addendum

This is my take on Chris' recent topic on NBA punks. (Come on, dude - Rip Hamilton? How's that guy in the top five of your list?)


5. Bill Laimbeer
Yeah, I know he's retired. What's he doing now? Coaching and winning championships for a WNBA team? He's washed up. The reason he makes my list, though, is because there was never a person I ever hated in basketball more than Bill Laimbeer. Not even Dennis Rodman! I think I hate Bill Laimbeer more than Kobe Bryant. (Someone should remake Bill Laimbeer's Combat Basketball and toss in modern players.) Bill Laimbeer and the Bad Boys were in their prime when I first started watching basketball back in like '89. And then the early '90s... Man, I hated Bill Laimbeer and the Bad Boys for all the dirtiness they played on Michael before he finally won. Plus, Bill Laimbeer used to always get into these fights with guys I liked, especially Barkley. I think watching those Bill Laimbeer vs. Barkley fights really helped my young, formative mind to quickly grasp the concept of good vs. evil.


4a. Joakim Noah
Yeah, pretty much all the reasons my fellow Tan pointed out in his post. Noah's a giant rat-fink. He reminds me of a taller Tyronn Lue, another guy I don't like and who would likely have made my T-Mobile Least Fave Five if I were writing this back in 2002.

4b. Bonzi Wells, Jason Williams (White Chocolate), James Posey
Sorry to cheat so much on this list, but I feel like I have to point out that I still don't like these guys. They were all on the last good Memphis Grizzlies team but their horrible attitudes made me lose respect for them. To tell the truth, I never liked Bonzi even when he was a Blazer. His antics never made me smile like Rasheed's did. And Jason Williams was always a dickhead for that time when the Kings came to Oakland and he commented on the Bay Area's Asian population by musing, "Didn't we kill all those chinks back in 'Nam? [insert fratboy machine gun sound effects]" James Posey, well, I don't know if he's really a jerk or not, but I'll just lump him into this group regardless. (Now that I think about it, he did give Monta a cheap shot a couple years ago. That's a good enough reason.)

The nail in the coffin for these guys is how they made their Hall of Fame coach retire (undisclosed "health reasons." In other words, those three guys were making him sick.) from coaching just by being jerks. Hubie Brown was trying to do something good with this team and then he had to deal with all these lousy attitudes. And now Hubie is probably one of the top two or three color commentators out there. You can actually learn about the game of basketball from listening to him talk. And he comes off as such a gentleman that I have zero respect for Bonzi, Williams, and Posey... Even though Hubie himself is such a gentleman that even when he commentates their games, he always says something positive about them.


3. Nate Robinson
I don't like this kid. First of all, he's a stinking cocky person. There's something annoying about his swagger on the court. He must feel like he has something to prove to everybody just because he's short. (I knew a kid like that in high school and one time I almost kicked his ass, but he got scared and backed off.) Winning the dunk contest is nice, but it's not like he even deserved to win... That was Iggyhop's trophy all the way and the only reason Robinson won was 'cause he's shorter. It sure wasn't because it took him like 17 tries to make a dunk.

And you know what else, Robinson's attitude is terrible. Larry Brown was his coach when he was a rookie and I remember reading interviews where Robinson was criticizing Brown as their season was heading down the drain. That's beyond absurd to me. I have no respect for a player who doesn't respect one of the greatest coaches of all time, especially when the coach is HIS coach (and he's a rookie). That's one of the reasons why I have no sympathy for the Knicks. Yes, yes, I heart FDNY and all that... But the Knicks? They deserve everything they've got right now, and I hope they remain bottom feeders at least as long as the Niners and Raiders have been crap.

Also, Robinson's role in that Knicks/Nuggets brawl a couple years back completely demolished any last vestiges of indifference for him. People criticize Melo for sucker-punching Mardy Collins and then backing off. Take it from a guy who's been sucker-punched a few times in his life: Mardy Collins had it coming. And Robinson definitely helped escalate things to the point where Melo had to unleash the fury. What a little instigator.


2. Isiah Thomas
I liked him when he was a player. Even though I hated the Bad Boys, I still liked Zeke, Joe Dumars, and John Salley. Now, I am kind of indifferent to John Salley and The Man Show (or whatever Spike TV show he was on). I still like Joe Dumars. But the Knicks are a joke and Isiah's the punchline.

We know he was the one who really started that Knicks/Nuggets fight. He made a little-used rookie go in and commit a hard foul. Come on now. If you're a rookie in the NBA and fighting for every second of playing time, and your coach tells you to go in to hurt the other team, what are you gonna do? Some people with self-respect and dignity might refuse to play dirty, but can you really blame a stupid person for obeying orders?

George Karl doesn't like Isiah, either, so I know I'm not alone.

Oh yeah, and the sexual harassment thing. And the terrible personnel moves as GM and the bad coaching. You gotta love it whenever Bill Simmons the Sports Guy writes about the "Isiah Face," man! Zeke: just another reason why I ain't feel any sympathy for the Knicks or their fans.


1. Bruce Bowen
Come on, is there even any question here? I am just shocked he didn't even crack Chris Tan's list. I don't have much, if any, love for Harpring or Fortson but Bowen tops them. He's constantly labeled by other players as the dirtiest player in the entire Association, and I am inclined to believe them. Just go to YouTube or something and do a search for "bruce bowen dirty" and see what you get. Try to find the clip where Bowen jump-kicks Wally Szczerbiak (or some other random white dude) in the face. How many times, during the course of a single game, does Bowen pull some dirty cheap shot on opposing players? And it's not just cheap shots, but he does stuff that can hurt or injure people. At least he's finally been suspended a game for his dirtiness. I could probably go off for a couple paragraphs on why else I hate Bowen, but I will assume that you already agree that he is a big fat punk. (Unless you're a Spurs fan.)

Ray Allen hates him, too. Good enough for me, if not a court of law.

My Top 5 Favorite Players in the NBA

1. Chris Paul (Strong-Willed) - This guy shares the same first name as me, or should I say I share the same first name as him? Anyhow, I like how he is representing all the Chris' with outstanding basketball play. Dang man, I just saw him rip the ball right from Deron Williams' pocket the other day. Incredible. He also has the ability to will his team to win, probably the most valuable trait any player can have.

2. Brandon Roy (Young Leader) - I had a friend who traveled to Oregon, and he caught a Trail Blazers game. What he simply told me was, "Brandon Roy is a baller." During my days at Davis, I tried to emulate Dwayne Wade's moves. Now, I want to emulate Roy's moves. Roy is sneaky good, without any weaknesses to his game. Even though he is only in his 2nd year in the NBA, his best ability is probably his leadership, as for awhile he was leading a young Portland Trail Blazers team (avg. age <25) into a possible playoff position in the deep Western Conference.

3. Tracy McGrady (Contagious Fun) - Dude, this guys jump shot is so beautiful and fluid. Can score in bunches, yet has a terrific knack for setting up his teammates for easy shots. When I watch McGrady play, it makes me smile, because it looks like he is having so much fun out there. Thats what I like about McGrady, an all-star player who enjoys playing the game and isn't afraid to show it by smiling on the court. I think this helps keep his teammates loose too, helping them play their best.

4. Manu Ginobili (Reckless Winner) - The guy flails his body on offense and defense. He is a gritty player, and I think its great when he runs into the lane and throws up a crazy shot that goes in. Reminds me of when I recklessly drive in, only I turn it over or throw up an ugly brick. I won't forget the Finals when Ginobili ate the Pistons alive with some nasty dunks. Ginobili is a winner wherever he has gone, with Argentina and with the Spurs.

5. Peja Stojakovic (Assassin of Opponent's Hope) - There will always be a soft spot in my heart for Peja. During his time with the Kings, he was my favorite player. Every time the guy misses a shot, something just doesn't seem right. Once the ball leaves his hand, I think its going in. I think opposing teams have that same thought as well. Peja always seems up to the task with hitting a 3 in the 4th quarter that completely deflates the opponent's will while elevating his own team's morale. Predrag Stojakovic. Someone should name their son or daughter Predrag.

Bleach

So, my mind has been churning a bit more recently. Usually I take a month-long absence before writing another entry. But I was [San Antonio] spurred on to write about NBA playoff seedings yesterday, especially with Ginobili tearing it up and the Rockets seemingly jumping from 10th in the conference to 7th seed and rising. Good stuff when one of my favorite players is playing ridiculous and one of my favorite teams is looking unstoppable.

After graduating from UC Davis, I have had the chance to watch a couple anime series, Naruto and Bleach. I've made a couple observations about Bleach, but let me first give a brief summary of the series (bear with me).

The series involves shinigami (english translation: death gods) who are in charge of sending the dead souls on earth to a place called "soul society," aka sorta like heaven. Another one of their responsibilities is protecting against humans from evil souls, using a sword as their means of attack against the evil souls. Each shinigami has their own unique sword, with each sword actually representing a spirit with a name. As they get to know the spirit that lives within them, they learn new attacks and grow stronger.

Check this out, this is even better:

"For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Therefore take up the whole armor of God...and take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God..." Ephesians 6:12, 13, 17 (bold and italics mine)

For Christians, we have a sword too, the sword of the Spirit. Right now, even at this moment, there is a spiritual battle taking place. That begs the question, are we strong enough to fight the battle? Well I can confidently say we can, the key being how much we get to know our sword, how much we get our noses into scripture. Joshua 1:8 says this: "This Book of the Law shall not depart from your mouth, but you shall meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do according to all that is written in it. For then you will make you way prosperous, and then you will have good success" (bold and italics mine).

So how strong can we get? Well Jesus went toe-to-toe with Satan and deflected off Satan's best stabs, with Jesus using Scripture effectively during His temptation in the desert (Matthew 4:1-11). Furthermore, we should take into account Hebrews 4:12, which says, "For the word of God is sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of the soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart." We need to immerse ourself in Scripture, which will reveal to us any sin or potential sin that can creep into our lives.

For the sake of being an effective witness for Christ to others, lets sharpen our "sword of the Spirit." For the sake of our own relationship with Christ, lets continue to get stronger for God's glory, delving into the riches found in scripture.

(Note: Sometimes my entries are written in a way that is targeting a Christian audience, this entry being one of them)

Western Conference Playoff Seeding Prediction

The NBA is pretty crazy this year. My predictions are a reflection of the craziness seen in the NBA so far.

1. L.A. Lakers
2. Houston Rockets
3. San Antonio Spurs
4. Utah Jazz
5. New Orleans Hornets
6. Phoenix Suns
7. Golden State Warriors
8. Dallas Mavericks

Before the season began, I thought the Lakers would be competing for the 7th or 8th seed. But then they got Pau Gasol, and look very dangerous. It also helps they have the game's best offensive player, Kobe.

I think Houston is figuring it out, playing good defense and I think their offense will run smoothly for the rest of the season as long as McGrady remains healthy. Adding Bobby Jackson will give them a ball-hog off the bench that can put up points. I think every team should have one ball-hog that plays limited minutes, because when the offense is failing, you need someone who won't get down on himself if he misses a shot and continues to jack shots up.

The Spurs and Jazz I don't need to say much on. The Spurs are always a powerhouse, but I put Houston ahead because they currently have more momentum than the Spurs do. The Jazz are the best in their division, and thus have to have one of the top 4 spots.

Hornets are playing great, I think Chris Paul should be MVP. I don't think their team will cool down that much, but I think other teams will elevate their play as the season winds down, pushing the Hornets to #5.

Phoenix is now a team with its sight on the playoffs, so they will work in Shaq and thus will face some bumps as the season goes on. This won't be a big deal though, as they have extra mojo with Shaq around and will take a swing at the championship come post-season.

Warriors are a dynamic team, but they better be streaking by season's end and continue that to the post-season, because they will need to if they are to repeat a first round upset of one of the West's top seeds. It would also help if Chris Webber could regain his athleticism somehow.

I'm not a fan of the Jason Kidd trade. Kidd is too turnover prone, and when Kidd went up against the Hornets, his opponent Chris Paul got 9 steals in the game! That is not a good sign. Even if it does work out, I saw Dirk suck it up at the All-Star game. Plus the Warriors beat them in last season's playoffs, so I'm putting the Warriors ahead.

Nuggets won't make it. I saw them play in person against the Kings, and I wasn't impressed with what I saw. Remember my Bobby Jackson ball-hog comment earlier? Well Nuggets have a ball-hog too: Allen Iverson. Except their ball-hog plays 40 minutes a game. I think the Nuggets should have traded for Ron Artest. With the exception of Marcus Camby, I just feel like opponents can get their points against the Nuggets. That wouldn't be happening if Artest was on the Nuggets. If the Nuggets had made the trade for Artest, I think they could have been a 5 or 6 seed, or even possibly contend for the Jazz' #4 spot.

The Kings will surpass the Blazers as #10 in the conference, thus further hindering their chances of getting a better draft pick. This is beginning to remind me of the Mitch Richmond years, where the Kings were good enough to compete daily with the top dogs and lose, yet beat up on the weak teams.

This was a good break from studying, now back to work.

Eighteen and One!

That was an amazing game, my friends, an amazing game.

Ever since I got more into football, I've been a big fan of the Niners and Raiders. Obviously, I've gotta be a Niners fan. And yeah, I guess it is kind of strange for a San Franciscan Niners fan to also like the Raiders. I understand that it is kind of unusual to love and root for a team that is known for being thuggish and has crazy fans that are willing to riot after big games. There's also the crosstown rivalry. But I just dig the silver and black uniforms. I think they are sweet. Also, I just can't find it within myself to hate the guys who play right next to the Warriors' arena.

I think a big part of why I like both the Niners and Raiders is simply because I see them on TV all the time. I have just built up a familiarity with the organizations and I just like the players because those are the games I always watch on Sundays.

But one team I saw quite a bit of this season on TV was the Giants. I think I watched them play seven or eight times this season, including their dramatic playoff run. Maybe watching them so much helped me like them more. I also like Plaxico because of ESPN NFL 2K5. And that one game a couple months back, on Sunday Night Football, when Osi Umenyiora sacked McNabb six times - that got me excited. Plus watching Eli play over the past few months has led me to stop doubting him. After Week 17, I think I respected him more, and I think he did well in the playoffs.

I was definitely rooting hard for the Giants. I hate the Patriots. I don't really have anything against most of their players, but I think their coach is a jerk, and I am not down with dynasties (unless it's one of my home teams). I couldn't imagine anyone outside of Boston rooting for the Patriots. I mean, I guess I eventually found out that people I knew wanted to see them make history, but personally, I wanted to see them humbled. I wanted to see it so badly.

It angered me to see their arrogance. Players from other teams would tell the media how guys like Seymour were dirty and unsportsmanlike. And you could tell from post-game interviews that Belichick is the kind of coach who doesn't care about people, only about winning and running up the score and smirking as he shakes the hand of opposing coaches. I read this one article in ESPN the Magazine and Bob Knight was like one of the only guys who wanted to say something positive about Belichick. Dude, when Bob Knight is your only ally, you know you're a big fat jerk.

So while everyone was talking about how many touchdowns the Patriots would win by in the Super Bowl, I was just hoping and praying that the Giants could pull off the greatest upset in football. I thought about it every day for the past two weeks. I read articles that analyzed the game from just about every angle and it seemed like everyone concluded that the Patriots would destroy the Giants, unless a miracle happened.

Haha, baby!! That was David beating up Goliath. That was righteous fire from heaven. That was the walls of Jericho crumbling into dust. That game was... USA 4, USSR 3.

Eighteen and one, baby! Eighteen and one!

Top 5 Punks in the NBA

There are many kinds of players in the NBA. All of them have a different set of skills that validates their belonging in the best basketball league in the world. You have the players with crazy handles like Rafer Alston and Jason Williams, passers who have eyes behind their head like Jason Kidd, and pure shooters like Peja and Ray Allen. There are other players who get in because they were born with the tall genes, such as Shawn Bradley (I know many people with better basketball skills than Bradley). The pinnacle echelon of basketball players have a vast set of skills that every basketball fan can admire (examples being Kobe Bryant, Kevin Garnett, Baron Davis, etc.). These top tier players make the NBA fun and exciting to watch.

However, I am here to talk about punks. These are the guys who have moments where I wish someone would clothesline them and put them in their place. Off the court they may be total gentleman I don't know, but what I do know is that when they show up on court one word comes to mind: "punk." One note I will make is that I have not included "danger" players like Ron Artest and Stephen Jackson; I just don't think of them as punks. I've spoken enough, so lets get on to my top 5 punks of the NBA list.

5. Richard Hamilton
In some ways I feel terrible about putting him on this list. I watched him ball at UConn, and I loved watching him play. But then I watch him play, and I always seem him crying to the officials that he was fouled. Stop whining and complaining, just play the game! On a side note, whereas the other players on this list I may have wanted to sucker punch at some point, a simple backhanded slap to Hamilton's face would suffice. Plus he has the face mask on, it won't hurt at all!

4. Matt Harpring
Matt Harpring is one of those hard-nosed players that coaches like to have on their team. Something just rubs me the wrong way about him on the basketball court though. I think it might be because he plays dirty and fouls hard. Karl Malone and John Stockton might be able to get away with it, but c'mon, who is Matt Harpring? Uggg, disgusting.

3. Danny Fortson
I don't know if he is still playing or warming the bench somewhere in the league, but whenever I see him play he always seems to be getting flagrant fouls. I know its good to play physical defense, but this is basketball not wrestling! Like Matt Harpring, the fact that he is a below average NBA player makes him even more of a punk when he acts all tough.

2. Joakim Noah
A few may perceive his attitude as simply confidence, but I see arrogance. I have good evidence for this claim, as recently Noah's Chicago Bulls teammates unanimously voted to ask for him to be suspended an extra game after Noah's confrontation with an assistant coach. The guy's a mediocre rookie who thinks he is justified in confronting his superior in such a manner? Its time he grows up, he's not a little kid anymore. Sure, people don't like losing but be a bit mature Joakim. Plus all his energetic hand motions, chest thumping, whatever he is doing, its a bit over the top. I don't mind if some players do it occasionally, and I love it when players do it after an amazing highlight (such as Baron Davis' lifting up of his jersey after dunking on Kirilenko), but please don't do it when you don't really have to.

1. Robert Horry
This was tough, I was debating whether to put Horry or Noah at the number 1 spot. However, I gave Noah some grace since its only his first year in the league. Let me get one thing straightened out...I did not put Horry here because he drilled the dagger all Kings fans will remember. For all his clutch shot-making in the playoffs, Robert Horry has let frustration get the best of him at certain times that has resulted in bone-headed actions. First, in recent playoff memory he flagrantly fouled Steve Nash near the end of a game. Sure, the Spurs may have needed to foul, but Horry straight up assaulted Steve Nash. Secondly, the man punched David Robinson in the balls. Once again, it was near the end of a game. The Lakers (Horry was on LA at the time) needed to foul to stop the time. So the Spurs inbound the ball to David Robinson, and Horry takes several swipes at the ball. Eventually Horry hit Robinson in the balls. I'm really don't think it was inadvertant. Horry made spot-on contact to Robinson's sensitive area. It was no graze, as evidenced by Robinson immediately going down. For both Nash and Robinson, Horry may have been thinking, "We already lost the game, might as well vent out some frustration." Not cool man, not cool. Horry assaulted 2 upstanding citizens of the NBA. You have to show class to classy individuals.

Well, the NBA is fun to watch, and it becomes even more delightful when the arrogant and classless are humbled.

There Should Be A Word

One of my favorite scenes ever in a work of fiction is from this one issue of Catwoman written by Ed Brubaker, one of my favorite writers. The basic context is this: Catwoman, whose real name is Selina Kyle, has just experienced a harrowing loss after an encounter with a crimelord named Black Mask. (Black Mask is sorta like the Red Skull, except his head is black and he's a mafia guy instead of a Nazi.)

What happened is that Black Mask allies himself with a woman named Sylvia, who's from Selina's past. He ends up kidnapping Selina's sister, Maggie, and Maggie's husband. The Black Mask then tortures Maggie and her husband; it's pretty twisted stuff. There's this part where he pulls out the husband's eyeball and forces him to swallow it while his wife watches in abject horror. After he takes some more punishment, the husband dies. As a result of this, Maggie's mind just snaps and by the time Selina finally rescues her sister, she has to go to an asylum.

But that's not all. In the adventure leading up to the rescue, Selina's two best friends endure some more pain. Slam Bradley, an older private eye who's secretly in love with her, gets hit by a car and winds up in serious condition in the hospital. Holly Robinson, Selina's best friend, gets attacked by a gang of youths and gets pounded by their skateboards before being kidnapped as well.

And then during the final battle with Black Mask and Sylvia, Holly, who had been set free, saves Selina's life. But to save her life, Holly is forced to shoot and kill Sylvia. That's intense because up to this point, Holly isn't really part of the violent side of Catwoman's life. So killing another person, even if it's to save her best friend, is a traumatic experience for Holly.

The emotional fallout of this leads to a sort of uncomfortable rift between Holly and Selina. They both want to talk to each other and make things better, but I guess they're too messed up mentally to figure out how to go about it. As a result, they just drift apart while wallowing in their own separate worlds of pain.

I guess that was a long-winded summary of the context of my favorite scene, but here it is.

A few weeks after Slam gets out of the hospital, Selina's still pretty beaten down mentally. So they end up talking to each other at one point, at a diner, and here's the part that always gets me.

SELINA
I've been having these dreams, you know, about Maggie... They aren't nightmares. In the dreams, she's normal again, and we're friends. I get this weird feeling of calm, like everything's going to be okay... And I'm so happy I could cry. And when I wake up, for a few seconds, I think the dream was real... It fools me, you know? And then real life crashes through. And God, I just want to die. I could stand knowing I'd wrecked everything, if I didn't have to live through it again like that all the time. And you know, there really should be a word for that feeling... When the dream is better than your real life. That moment of realization. They should have a word for that...

And now, for the part of this post that doesn't necessarily have much to do with the majesty of Brubaker's Catwoman.

Last night, I had this dream where I encountered my first major crush. I don't know why I dreamt about her. Memories of this dream are sort of hazy right now, but I think I still remember the gist of it. We met somewhere and started talking and catching up 'cause it's been years since we last saw each other.

It was one of those feel-good dreams, you know, where somewhere in the back of your mind you know it's just a dream and you're smiling in real life. So in the dream, we were talking and it felt like there was some chemistry and stuff. And then when I was feeling optimistic she told me she had a boyfriend. Then I felt sort of disappointed, and woke up, and discovered it was only 4AM.

It took me some time to fall back to sleep after that. It was an unusual feeling. During most of that dream, I was feeling happy, but right before I woke up from it, I felt let down. I wasn't sure if that was a good dream or not; it just made me feel conflicted. I felt very, very strange after that dream.

And you know what? There should be a word for that feeling. There should be a word.

Diss Track

What's the greatest diss track in the history of popular music? "Ether" by Nas? "The Bitch in Yoo" by Common?

The correct answer is "You Oughtta Know" by Alanis Morissette.

Yes. "You Oughtta Know," that spiteful tirade against Uncle Joey from Full House. Alanis truly is the angriest woman in the history of Canada. Seriously, you have to be the most mean-spirited, heartless, and cruelest bitch in the world in order to write a song dedicated to emasculating Uncle Joey. UNCLE JOEY, folks! That's just wrong. On so many levels.

See, here's why I believe "You Oughtta Know" is the most threatening diss track ever recorded. The other week, when I was walking through a parking lot, I heard this chick just blasting that song from her car stereo. Her windows were rolled down and she was cruising, playing that song at max volume. I have never, ever heard anyone blast Alanis Morissette in public like that.

It takes some serious balls to not be ashamed of blasting one of Alanis' songs. I would not want to cross the chick who is tough enough to boast, through her choice of pop music, her unbridled and extensive man-hate. I feared for my masculinity when that chick's car rolled past me. I had to go straight to Big 5 so I could buy a cup to protect my manhood.

Family Trip

I recently went on a short vacation with my family, grandma, and uncle and aunt from Canada. We traveled to Las Vegas for the weekend by plane, and took a side trip to the Grand Canyon by car. I've been to Las Vegas before, and my impression of the city isn't very positive. Who wants to travel to a city where there are smokers seemingly everywhere? Ventures through casinos usually have me holding my chest in pain. I definitely appreciate California laws that don't allow smoking at most indoor public places. Man, I wish people who smoke would stop, for the sake of their loved ones who are around them, and for themselves as well. Of course the task is much easier to say than do.

Alas, I have strayed from my main topic. Las Vegas and the Grand Canyon. I'd say the only reason I went to Las Vegas was for the family time, seeing that my oldest sister is engaged and the family might not have future opportunities to go on a vacation together. But due to circumstances, both my sisters weren't able to attend. That was a downer, but there were highlights to the trip. I was able to spend time with my parents and grandma, as well as my uncle and aunt who I rarely see. Canadians really do frequently say "eh" by the way.

JOKE: How did the 3 discoverers of Canada come up with the country's name? (Answer at the end of the blog entry)

Another highlight of the trip, was a restaurant. Sushi Factory. Oh boy, I think I mostly loved this place because of the cheap cost. Many tourists may never eat there, as it is off the strip. Big mistake. My meal consisted of beef teriyaki, salmon teriyaki, and shrimp tempura rolls (6). The total cost for this was only $10.75, with good size portions. Not only was the cost cheap, but the food delicious. I could easily tear the beef teriyaki with my teeth and let its savory taste permeate through every nook and cranny in my mouth. Also, the place was run by Japanese people. Usually, I prefer Japanese people cooking Japanese food, Mexican people cooking Mexican food, etc. Its more authentic eh? So if you go to Las Vegas, pay this place a visit.

I also went to see a show at the MGM Grand called "Ka." I don't have much to say about the show, as I had a bit of a hard time following the plot. But I will say that the effects and stunts of the show were fantastic. I think "Ka" is better than the "blue man group" show.

Grand Canyon. I think that may have been the best part of the trip. It was unfortunate we couldn't stay there that long. If there is another family trip soon, I'll recommend staying at the Grand Canyon and taking a side trip to Las Vegas. Nature is sweet, no question. It would be great if I could bring a lawn chair a chill in the Grand Canyon. While looking at the Grand Canyon, I came up with an idea. Wouldn't it be funny if me and others threw a football into one the canyon's crevices each visit? Slowly a mound of footballs could accumulate, and you could see a canyon with a tumor consisting of footballs! Anyhow, for realz, the Grand Canyon was sweet. Definitely neat seeing the Colorado River snake through the canyon as well.

Yup, that was my trip, goodbye.

Answer: The three discoverers each decided to contribute one letter to the country's name.
1st man: "C eh"
2nd man: "N eh"
3rd man: "D eh"