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July 2, 2006                                                            << previous          article 17            next >>


3/23/06: We lost by two points in the NCAA tournament tonight to UCLA in a literal nail-biter. But in my heart of hearts, I didn't cry because we lost the game. I shed tears because I missed the nail and bit my finger. It dosen't sound like much but holy hell it hurt like the plague. I also wasn't looking forward to my mom making me enter the NBA draft. My best friends Paul and DP (Comms majors) are both staying at Gonzaga. Why? cause their moms' not a bitch.

4/18/06: Today at the press conference, my agents announced for me that I will be putting my name in the 2006 NBA draft. The thing took longer than I thought but there was a cute reporter in the crowd. After the snoozefest I went out in the parking lot and asked for her name. Turns out her name is Michelle and she works for Sports Illustrated Kids. I told her I would shave my mustache if she gave me a good head-bobbing session. She slapped me in my face and stormed off. I took a basketball out of my backpack and threw it as hard as I could into her rib cage. 3 pointer.

6/10/06: Tried out for the Toronto Raptors today. They were throughly impressed with my shooting in college and wanted to test out my inside game. The brass brought out their power foward Chris Bosh and wanted me to try out my post up moves against him. I told them I don't really like to be touched and they promptly canceled the session.

6/12/06: Went to Chicago and tried out for the Bulls. Well, that's what I went there for. But the try-out never took place because I broke my hand punching the statue of Micheal Jordan. They told my agent they would call us back sometimes. Mom yelled at me.

6/15/06: In Charlotte, they wanted to interview me to get an idea for my mental toughness or something. My buddy JJ Reddick went through this song and dance. He told me the trick to impressing the scouts is to laugh maniacally after you answer your questions, I think he's fucking with me. The first question the scout asked me is whether I'd prefer to be an astronaut or a farmer. I told him I'd rather be on south beach with a pair of titties in my mouth. He asked me if I was serious; I told him to fly me to Miami and check on my Flickr account to see if I'm serious. On the way out I saw the new Bobcat owner Micheal Jordan, don't think the thought of punching him in the face didn't cross my mind.

6/28/06, draft day, 3:00 pm: My agent took a baseball bat to my Xbox to make me go to this retarded draft thing. This is 2006 man, and I'm being shipped to fucking a slave auction!? Didn't they learn their lesson from history? I mean, didn't we learn our lesson from history? I mean...slavery is bullshit, and that's all I'm going to say. And if my agent interrupts another one of my Halo games, I'm going to throw him off the balcony. Don't care if he's my dad.

6/28/06, draft day, 5:00 pm: Got to answer a throng of media questions. I wonder if they know I pretty much worked myself out from being a top prospect to a few hours away from being undrafted. I answered all my question in French; I don't speak French. Mom gave me a stern look, I told her to " blasé blasé". I can't wait to move out of the dorms into a house for next semester with Paul and DP, its going to be party central, or as we like to say at Gonzaga- a groovin' good time.

6/28/06, draft day, 8:00 pm: "With the number one pick in the draft, the Toronto Raptors select..." (not me not me not me)"Andrea Bargnani." Yes! thank you- 7 foot tall Italian dude. You actually look nothing like Mario, you're all right. Speaking of Mario, I got back to playing with my DS under the table so the camera won't catch me, they are always trying to catch me. Next up Chicago picks...LaMarcus Aldrige. I remember playing a few big games against that dude. I must have went on 3 killing streaks in one of those games, that guy should stick to basketball.

6/28/06, draft day, 8:13 pm: "With the third pick of the NBA draft, Charlotte selects...Adam Morrison!" Aw shit! what the hell!? Why did Jordan pick me after I pumped my shoulders back and rocked my head forward to threathen him in the hallway? I was so mad I wanted to break something. I went up to the podium and shook hands with the commissioner. I whispered to him "Why did Jordan pick somebody who purposely plays no defense?" the commish responded "I don't really watch basketball." Me neither, but what the hell else am I going to do on the bench the next year? I looked back at my table to see Jordan kissing my mom on the cheek...
oh brother!