In light of recent charges that I may have an unhealthy obsession with second-rate NBA player, Rashad McCants, I've decided to present a kinder, gentler column dedicated to everyone's favorite wayward bum. Err, umm... misunderstood malcontent. See, I can do this!
Thank you Mr. McCants for teaching me:
1) That hooking up with the ugly sister is not always a bad thing. You could end up with the ugly sister of the ugly sister.
2) That my freshman year high school coach was right. A guy can help the team even by sitting the bench. Case in point: The Timberwolves are 11 - 25. In 9 of their past 10 victories... you've played a total of 45 minutes, despite averaging 20+ minutes in the other 28 games. You've also taught me that a guy can make the difference on the court even while wearing a sharp sweater vest. The Timberwolves have won their last 5 games when you don't play at all!
3) That guys with a tattoo stating, "Born to be Hated..." are indeed easily hate-able. Who would have known?
4) That Yakhouba Diawara of the Miami Heat is in line for a big raise. He's making $2 million less than you even though he's shooting better (37%) and playing for a winning team.
5) That if an employer ever owes me $2,620,215 guaranteed... I can phone it in and coast for a few months and still get paid.
6) That a single gimmick fueled by the justified hatred of one man can snap me out of my writing malaise.
I hope that my minuscule readership likes the less abrasive Abe. If anything, I think I've proven that we can all learn from one another. Even it's simple life lessons learned from the vile antics of a horrible basketball player who is trying to steal my soul.
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