1. Larry Johnson made an L signal with his arms only during Knicks playoff games.
2. Baseball is only team sport where: a) manager wears uniform; b) playing fields are not the same from stadium to stadium; c) you can fail 65% of the time and be considered the best in the business; d) where the offense does not have the ball
3. Stephon Marbury, who was just traded to the Knicks, grew up in Brooklyn and went to Lincoln High School.
4. Karl Malone is the “Mailman” cause he delivers.
5. Julius Erving is “The Doctor” cause he makes howze calls.
6. Kobe Bryant is named after Kobe Beef
7. Peyton Manning is quarterback for The Colts. His father Archie was a great NFL quartback for the Saints, and Peyton’s younger brother Eli will be a first round draft pick in this year’s NFL draft. Keep it in the family boys.
8. Yao Ming, who is from China and plays for the Houston Rockets is 7’6”… his mother is 6’3”, and his father is 6’10”.
9. I love grandfather clauses, which permit old-school players, who joined the NHL prior to mandatory helmets, to now play without any protective headgear. So old school.
10. I sometimes call my dog Linus “Lebrinus” after LeBron James because the boy can catch some air.
People say athletes are thugs during interviews, perhaps as well spoken as last night’s Best in Show champion Newfoundland (pictured above), but Sprewell is very articulate. Go ahead and add Dikembe Mutombo Mpolondo Mukamba Jean Jacque Wamutombo (Dikembo Mutombo for short) to that list. He can answer in English, French, Spanish, Portugese or any one of five African dialects. Well done, gentlemen. Now, if I could only say the same of their spectators.
At any sporting event in Madison Square Garden, it’s no surprise to find men wearing sports jerseys and duo-toned face paint screaming about the ref’s wife. They’re the type of men who go to Irish pubs and have goatees; they have definitely mooned more than one person in their lifetime. They use toothpicks after meals. These men all played football or hockey when they were younger, but now, they play softball. Take that scene and reverse it. You now have the spectators at The Westminster Dog Show, housed in Madison Square Garden. The space is the same, but the players have changed.
Security isn’t just checking bags for explosives; they’re ensuring no one is smuggling in another dog. Bouffants, powder puffs, hairspray, I’m talking about the women, not the dogs. Lots of white haired women with spackled makeup wear their fur coats; it’s becoming cliché. Fur to a dog show is like wearing red to a funeral. Bored married men wearing Hushpuppies smile a little too long at me—their heads turn, and their Chanel-pin-wearing, Manolo’s-even-in-the-rain, I-get-my-hair-blown-smooth-every-third-day wives notice. They clutch his arm and lead him. They become their husband’s handler for the night.
Since when is a Dachshund a hound? Excuse me, but they’re Gray’s Papaya’s bundled in knit and should not be in the same ring as a Bloodhound whose shite is bigger than the dachshund by two. The Briand is not something you smear onto a baguette and pair with a tasty Chianti; it’s a dog. What the hell is the difference between working and sporting groups? Every time I attempt any sport, it feels like work. These poor dogs get an unfair wrap.
Like the above list of interesting sports tid-bits, you’ll hear similar facts (and rumors) in Madison Square Garden… about dogs. The dog nerd beside me (yes, the kind that buys the program) drip-feeds me information throughout the evening. “Pulik” flashes on the board in lights as a mop of a dog struts his rump. “Aw, what a cute Pulik.”
Dog nerd corrects me, “It’s pronounced Puli.” Her voice is nasal. “Pulik is plural, like oxen.” Dog nerd goes on, “And that dog’s owner brings terrible shame to the community.” She then leans in closer; I can smell her breath. She whispers in a voice reserved for dreaded things, “puppy mills.” She brings a new meaning to “Dog Whisperer.”
(If you enjoyed this post, check out Dogs & Their Owners)