Sam Jackson is now the official actor of Lamar.
His work is superb, like in Pulp Fiction.
Also, Motherfucking Snakes on a Motherfucking Plane.
Anyways, on to Drew Gooden.
Drew has a name similar enough to Dwight Budden (featured on a Madden sountrack now beyond memory) that I got their names confused on a consistent basis.
Drew's game is so unremarkable that it becomes remarkable in and of itself. There is no more vanilla player in the whole of the NBA; he rebounds, scores, and intimidates with equal unremarkability. It seems fitting that he would be paired up opposite LeBron--a man destined to be a god among men.
Every hero must have his protection, every night his shining armor. That armor needn't be too flashy; the quality of the hero should be measured by his might, not by his shield.
Not to say that LeBron should press forward with inadequate or antiquated equipment--KG and KB24 have proven such a quest is fraught with nothing but peril and ridicule. Rather, he should wear a suit of armor that does nothing to add nor subtract from his overwhelming splendor.
Drew Gooden, combined with Larry Hughes and Zydrunas Ilgauskas, is a suit so vanilla, so ordinary, that it becomes extraordinary in its regularity. None of those men is capable of dominating a game on his own, allowing LBJ to rise up like the Basketball Mohammed that he is.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Snakes on a Motherfucking Plane
Posted by bobduck at 11:02 AM
Labels: Cavaliers, Drew Gooden, Kevin Garnett, Larry Hughes, Lebron James, Samuel Jackson, Zydrunas Ilgauskas
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2 comments:
I couldn't stop laughing when I saw the interview with Samuel Jackson last night. Thank god for the internets.
Dude its Chris. I'm back but my we moved houses and all my shit is in boxes, including my cell phone. Give me a call at 310 230 2569.
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