June 19, 2008 | Tags: none
Real talk is even though I’m Nigerian, I’m not the biggest fan of soccer. Although my country’s team is supposed to be one hell of a squad – they even took the gold medal in the 1996 Summer Olympics, beating Brazil along the way – thanks to my upbringing here in the States (some call it Americanization) I never really dug the game as much as my parents.
Shit, I don’t even have an accent, so that should tell you something. Well, I did have one, but it washed out as I grew up, so now my siblings and I have this weird suburban/Naija tone in our voices. But whatever.
Anyways, these past few months were probably as good a time as any to be a sports fan, if not only a soccer fan. Chelsea bested Manchester United and – although I’m not a soccer buff – apparently the game was akin to, say, the tennis matches that Venus and Serena Williams had against each other when they were numbers one and two in the world. On a side note, I know a few people say that she looks a bit, well, mannish, but I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t scrape Serena if she popped up in my studio apartment tomorrow wearing nothing but a too-small wifebeater and a landing strip. She ain’t got shit on this one Brazilian chick Andressa Soares though. There’s thick-bodied, then there’s
motherfucking thick-bodied.
What the hell was this blog about? Oh yeah...
Just last Sunday Turkey scored an incredible three goals in fifteen minutes against the Czech Republic to stage one of the best come-from-behinds in sports history, only to be outdone by Tiger Woods, who basically played on one leg, who came off of knee surgery to win the US Open. Then of course there were the Celtics, who did a 180 of their own to win the NBA championship. Shit, even back in February the New York Giants made an epic comeback to beat the Patriots in the Super Bowl.
Point being, while difficult at times comebacks are possible. LL Cool J has done it a myriad of times throughout his career. Ice Cube has reinvented himself, and now the guy who acts in child-friendly movies also drops surprisingly good rap albums with a socio-political twist in them like the old days. Robert Sylvester got acquitted of doing a
Cleveland Steamer on a teenager, and this muh’fuck pretty much had Bebop and Rocksteady as his defense attorneys. Even rap’s beloved tree monkey came back from what was essentially a self-ethering when those pictures and stories of him and Bryan mmm-mmm kissing were all over the place to be the first person since Fiddy did it back in 2005 to sell a million copies in his first week. So I’m sure that Young Buck can make his own comeback as well. Who cares if he was crying over the phone; it’s wrong – and kind of creepy at that – for Curtis to either record or allow someone to record a phone call anyways. That’s some straight voyeur, “I-beat-off-to-old-lady-panties-in-a-Sears-dressing-room,” weird shit. Besides, people cry all the time. I’ve shed tears while talking to my moms at least twice this year, and once over a girl; that doesn’t make me, or anybody that’s done the same, bitchmade. Nope, bitchmade is someone tapes that shit, which is pretty troublesome as is; this is why people, not only rappers, have to front like battle-weary warriors like Leonidas all the time. Sad, really.
So am I really worried about Young Buck? Not really, especially considering he was the best one out of the group. We all know this was nothing more than another marketing stunt to build hype for that disaster of a G-Unit album dropping next week. Let’s just hope Buck doesn’t go batshit crazy and starts stabbing random-ass people. Matter of fact, I wouldn’t mind that at all; I’d even give him the Spork to use if he knifed up Tony Yayo.
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