The Ides of March Madness are Upon Us!

My wife is wayyyyyyy into Alabama Head Coach, Anthony Grant. 

My picks: Kentucky, Mizzou, Ohio State and Georgetown.

With Mizzou knocking off the Buckeyes in the finals!

My wife's picks: Kentucky, Mizzou, Syracuse and UNC.

With Kentucky beating 'Cuse ... at least, that's what she had before Fab Melo got suspended. I honestly haven't talked to her in like, three days.

Click this jawn to see my picks, dawg!

And this is my wife's brack. 

NOPE! No All-Star Weekend for Me, Thanks!

Oh, y'know, it'll be hosted by Valeria, Jasmin, Dana and WANKAEGO!

This weekend is BY FAR my favorite weekend of the year: NBA All Star Weekend. (And how 'bout the fact that I just used to word "weekend" three times in the opening sentence!)

HOWEVERRRRRRRRRRRRRRR, I will be missing the Slam Dunk Contest and 3-Point Shootout on Saturday night because I have to go out to dinner with a bunch of white people.

IT'S REASONS LIKE THIS, my friends, that I started this dogshit-blorg in the first place ... because suckers like me get married (I LOVE YOU VERY MUCH HONEY) and our lives get sucked out from our souls and tucked into tight khaki pants for a night out with "friends."

Now, I must make it clear that my wife TOTALLY gave me the green light to get outta this Saturday night's festivities (that's being called "New iPhone app: Dinner with Friends" on our email chain), but after thinking about it carefully and prayerfully, I (and only me) ultimately decided that friendship and getting out and living life was more important than staying home and watching Deron Williams dribble around a bunch of cones.

WHAT A FUCKING DUMB DECISION THAT WAS!

Beebs definitely checking a secret, slutty text. 

Some of my fondest memories from growing up revolve around sitting on my mother's friend Marion's couch (we didn't have cable, so I had to go there to watch TBS), eating those chocolate carmel Nips candies (so hard at first and then soooooo gooey!) and watching Kenny Walker (and his amazing flat-top AND GOLD CHAIN) do windmill 360s! Or Craig Hodges's 19 straight three-balls in 1991!!! And then coming back the next year and defending his title DESPITE not even being on an NBA roster ... remember, he wore that generic NBA jersey! ... who am I even writing this to? ... there's no way the four Texas girls who read this blog know who Craig Hodges is! ... BUT THEY SHOULD!!!

And yeah yeah yeah, I know, I know, the dunk contest started sucking in the mid-90's, but then VINCE ... and then it sucked again ... but then DWIGHT! (I was at my Mother-in-Law's Brooklyn apartment for Superman's display AND SHE DOESN'T EVEN HAVE A TELEVISION) ... and then last year BLAKE JUMPED OVER A CAR -- and yeah, he only jumped over the front of it, but Baron Davis WAS SITTING IN THE CAR AND THREW BLAKE AN OOP OUT OF THE SUNROOF!!!





In 2002, All Star Weekend was here in Philly and my buddy Rev and I decided to take a walk down to the Marriott downtown where all the players and celebs were staying. I'm not sure what our intention was, I guess we just wanted to be part of the action, maybe see a few players and entertainers or have sex with some of the women who were there trying get pregnant, but the entire hotel was blocked off. Luckily, I've seen a bunch of those Ocean's Whatever movies and know that there's always a way to sneak past security. So I went into the hotel restaurant (entrance was on the street), pretended to go to the bathroom, started pushing on a bunch of unmarked doors and then wammo!

The door opened up to the middle of this longgggggggggggggggg, empty hallway; 30 yards to the left was the hotel atrium: a bar, the concierge desk, a fountain, etc ... and 30 yards to the right was the VIP players/celebrities entrance. And just as I popped out, Method Man was heading my way.

As non-chalantly as possible, I started walking side-by-side with Meth. It's always a little awkward when you're walking RIGHT next to a stranger down a longgggg corridor, let alone a stranger who just popped out of some unsuspecting door, or a stranger who happens to be a member of the Wu Tang Clan, but eventually as we were walking I felt the need to say SOMETHING.

So I turned to Meth and said, "So Meth, when you see your friends later, are you gonna tell them that you walked down a hallway with me today?"

I'm not sure if he got it (I actually thought it was a pretty good line), but he just kinda looked at me and went, "Yeah," and then we went our separate ways at the hotel lobby.





But no hob-knobbing with rap stars for me this weekend! Nope, just some chicken tikka masala with people named "Brian" and "Amanda." Adding pain to heartache is the fact that Sundee's All Star Game IS ON AT THE SAME TIME as the Oscars!

Not even like, "Oh, well, you can watch the first half and then switch over to the Academy Awards, because the game starts an hour earlier," NO, BECAUSE THE RED CARPET STUFF IS MY WIFE'S FAVORITE PART.

I guess I could go to a friend's house, BUT I KINDA LIKE THE RED CARPET STUFF TOO (and I think my friends do also).

If there's one silver lining to missing All Star Weekend, it's that I won't have to watch the ONSLAUGHT of ads promoting Tyler Perry's new movie. At some point, one of us white people is gonna HAVE TO watch a Tyler Perry movie, just so we can understand what the hell is going on in the world. My wife and I actually attempted to watch around 15 minutes of one of his flicks on TBS one afternoon and it was EXACTLY what you'd expect it to be.

A black family from Chicago headed down south for a distant family member's funeral and were picked up at a bus stop in Alabama by a few of their long-lost relatives. And of course these southern relatives were goofy as hell and lived in a country house without air conditioning and then some other relative who wore a suit and had a good job and nice teeth came in and smiled at one of the Chicago women. Not one person was wearing khakis.

I GOTTA GET FUCKING DVR ALREADY!

JESUSSSSSSSSS

CHRIST!




JUMPMAN: MELO EXPLOSIVE FLIGHT BTS from klipcollective on Vimeo.


I know no one ever watches videos in these posts, but all three of the ones I embedded are FANTASTIC. Especially this one right above here, made for Carmelo's Knicks debut and release of his new sneaker. So you should watch them. Orrrrrrrrrr, if you haven't done so yet, you should vote in the poll on the TVMWW homepage. As of now, "I want to start going to bed at a reasonable hour" is in the lead! Orrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr look at this picture of the biggest jerk of an older brother I've ever seen.

Kiki: so pasty! And Detlef's stache! And why did Coop ALWAYS have his drawstring out?

Pretty sure the guy in the front row all the way on the right once tried to sell me life insurance.

Good thing Michael Adams put his knee brace on ... 
and WHO is #12 and WHAT TEAM does he play for, the Conshohocken Colonels?!?!

Larry Nance obviously farted here.

NBA Playoffs: Thanks Joel Anthony

This is no way to shoot a free throw.

With 16 seconds left in the 4th quarter and my hometown Sixers down 2 points, the Miami Heat's Joel Anthony stepped to the line and sunk two free throws to ice the game and end the Sixers season. After the second shot went down, my wife turned to me and said:

"I'm happy for Joel. Because he's not as good as the other guys and that's nice for him. Don't you think Evvy?"

Yes Darrie. That's nice for him.

And Evan Turner can suck my crank. 

The only thing flatter than that brim is Evan's jumper ... OH!

NCAA Tournament: Favorite Players

After day one of March Madness, here are my favorite players:

David Stockton, Gonzaga

Josh Smith, UCLA aka The Bread Truck

Coco, Morehead St.

I Just Found Out My Wife Never Saw The Fab Five Play!

ESPN's documentary about the Fab Five this Sundee night!

Here's a few amazing clips from the team that Latrell Sprewell (my wife's all-time favorite player) wishes he was apart of:

American Idol, Top Chef and a College Basketball Bonanza

Don't get excited, there is VERY little J-Lo and Idol talk in this post.

The Cleveland Cavaliers have lost 22 straight games. And for the past 22 straight nights I have lost control of my remote.

So when I saw yesterday that UConn-Syracuse, Nova-Marquette, Duke-Maryland (my alma mater) and Mizzou-Oklahoma State were going head to head with American Idol and Top Chef, I needed to put my foot down. I told my wife that I "kinda sorta, would like to maybe, uh, watch a little college basketball tonight during commercials?"

And she said fine!

Now, I have painted a picture of my wife as being a terrifying woman (and she is!), but she can also be incredibly kind, generous, understanding and agreeable, ESPECIALLY if I make dinner and clean up (which I did last night, LIKE A BOSS). Occasionally she'll even leave her switch blade upstairs (but still somehow seems to be able to find a shank when she needs one). She is also a pretty big sports fan, more-so the NBA, baseball, tennis and the Olympics, but can be convinced to watch anything. Her college basketball experiences have been limited though, you see, she went to Brandeis, which doesn't quite have the hoops culture of Maryland, but has almost as many Jews.  

Brandeis basketball ... I actually had a pair of those Cons. They were amazing.

Also, this wouldn't be an issue if my wife would agree to have a second TV in the house, but she refuses. She comes from one of those intellectual families that reads the New York Times and does homework and raises their children to be knife wielding maniacs and I respect that, because my parents too read the New York Times, only they read it while watching television in separate rooms and may or may not have had a conversation in the past seventeen years.

Suffice it to say, I was REALLY excited to see Missouri's 40 minutes of pressure defense and UConn's Kemba Walker and Duke's three point snipers and as I type this I realize that NONE OF MY READERS CARE about college basketball and it was SO DUMB to start a blog called TV My Wife Watches. Why didn't I just start a blog called Sports That I Watch?!?!! That would've been a pretty good idea, Ev! I mean, really, would it have been that hard to find the domain name, Sports That I Watch Dot Blogspot Dot Com? How bout ESPN Blogspot Dot Com? Or Anything Besides TV My Wife Watches Dot Blobspots Dots Coms?!?!

However, seeing that my blog followers are 90% women and I'm 100% whipped, let's just talk about American Idol and Top Chef and call it a day.

Idol was great, it's always great. I have nothing else to say. I friggin' love that show, love the new judges, love my wife, love reality television, and can't believe how absolutely bonkers beautiful J-Lo is. That cowboy kid was fantastic and even though that community college lovebird couple seemed REALLY annoying, that little kid sounded like friggin' Harry Connick Joons. Also, are you ready for this, I think Ryan Seacrest is funny and I kinda like him.

Yep, I said it. The guy has a good personality and was fantastic in his cameo role in Knocked Up. I've heard a lot of people say, "I think he's just really good at what he does," blah blah blah, but the bottom line is that he's a funny dude, doesn't take himself too seriously and probably has televisions in every room of his house.

This guy is not mentioned ONCE in this blog. How is that possible?!?!

Top Chef was also good. Kinda sad to see Tre go home, I always liked The Black Italian. I was actually hoping Dale would be sent packing, I think he's a jerk. He's always freaking out and barking at people and when he does his little confessional interviews, he sits back with his arms folded like a sulky kid who isn't allowed to have a television in his bedroom.

But no one is worse than Angelo. It's gotten to the point where everything he does annoys me; his mannerisms, the way he grates pepper, the way he doesn't get back on defense and refuses to dive on the floor for loose balls. Also, whenever he presents his dish, he always says something like, "Here I have a beautiful lamb shank, with some gorgeous lamb balls," always feeling the need to talk up his food. He's the ultimate Top Chef villain. I wonder if he slept with Carlos Boozer?

Lastly, kinda cool that all the slick Italians at Rao's knew Tom Colicchio and Anthony Bourdain and Lorraine Bracco. Even cooler to hear Lorrain Bracs tell the story about how Martin Scorsese's mom made all the food on set for the cast and crew of Good Fellas. I roasted a chicken last night that I bought at Acme and it was terrible. But I did totally see Mason Plumlee ram on some dude's neck. That dude is a beast.

Carlos Boozer Totally Railed That Michelle Lady From The Bach ... And I Really, Really Love Cheeseburgers

The Booze Hound looks REALLY HAPPY that this story was leaked.

I mean, this is hardly news at this point considering the story broke four days ago, but people keep telling me that I need to put up shorter blog posts, so here's a quick one about NBA All Star Carlos Boozer totally plowing Michelle, the weathered face lunatic from The Bachelor.

According to Life and Style Magazine (an actual magazine apparently!) Michelle and The Boozeinator had an affair in 2009 while Booze was still married, although Michelle implies that he deceived her into thinking he and his wife were separated, blah blah blah, like that even matters, he's a multi-millionaire athlete with thighs like a friggin' rhinoceros.

For my female readers out there who may not know Boozer, he's essentially an enormous power forward who is Duke educated, originally from Alaska and seriously has thighs like a friggin' rhino. He's a monster (thighs like what, what what) and an old school, lunch-pail type player who likes to barrel his way to the bucket (and as I type this I realize that no women out there know or care what I'm talking about, so just I understand that he probably really, REALLY had sex with Michelle).

Uhhhh, yup ... that's weathered faced Michelle with Steve Sanders.

Boozer is also infamous for allegedly giving his word to former Cavaliers owner (and BLIND MAN) Gordon Gund that he would sign a free agent contract with Cleveland in 2004, only to leverage that conversation into getting the Utah Jazz to offer him more money. Days later, The Booze Hound signed with Utah where he would later meet Michelle and BLOW HER MIND with his trademark blue-collar Alaskan sexual maneuvers.

Special thanks go out to my buddy Law for telling me about this story and also to new internet friend, Thad S. who linked to it in my comments section.

Let it be known that Thad S. also writes a really great food blog called Philly Phoodie you can find here. He recently recommended the cheeseburger (with anchovy mayo!) at a new gastro-pub, Kennett.

Possibly more mind blowing than sleeping with an Alaskan.

For the record, Law, his wife Chicken, and myself, all had THE BEST CHEESEBURGERS we've ever had last week at The Royal Tavern in South Philly, complete with bacon, smoked gouda, carmelized onions, chile mayonnaise and longhots. Law got his with extra longhots. I got mine with extra heartburn. Chicken got hers sans longhots and also refuses to read my blog because "The posts are way too long."

Also, my wife just told me that following Zumba class on Saturday morning, Chicken diagnosed herself with Plantar fasciitis and hasn't been able to walk for the past 36 hours. 

Lastly, I totally realize that this "quick post" turned into another epic, long-winded, blabbapalooza from yours truly, so I sincerely apologize. I honestly can't ever shut up. I'm sorry. 

Wednesday Night Channel Surfing: some Lunatics, some Sports and some Housewives

This woman is going to change my life.

Last night, I was ridiculously excited to watch television. There was so much good stuff on like the 76ers vs. the Heat America's Next Top Lunatic, the World Series Modern Family and like 37 more NBA games because NBA League Pass is offering a free trial for the first two weeks of the season and it's just bonkers wall-to-wall basketball The Real Housewives of Atlanta!

Let me preface by saying that my wife used to enjoy watching basketball with me. When we first started dating, she used to come over to my apartment and we'd stay up late watching NBA doubleheader playoff games. She even wore her Latrell Sprewell New York Knicks jersey over once. I'd often put on my fliest sweatpants and we'd sit on my couch and she'd watch with genuine interest as I explained to her the x's and o's of the game. I remember one time we I actually set up some chairs in my living room and showed her how to properly defend against a pick and roll. Dar absorbed the information like a pro and I was smitten.

Fast forward five years and all of our chairs now stay in the dining room. She calls the Sixers "the most boring team in the league." She told me last night that baseball was her favorite sport. But I'm still smitten, especially because last night she brought me a bowl of Boo Berry cereal as we settled in for a night of compromise.

What follows is a timeline of last night's TV watching bonanza.

8:08 - After watching the first hour of the Sixers-Heat game and listening to the HORRIFIC local TV announcers, Dar says that hearing Joe Buck and Tim McCarver's voices on Fox's World Series broadcast is "sort of enjoyable." Minutes later McCarver tells us that Elvis Andrus is the first "Elvis" to ever play in the World Series. The channel gets changed.

8:17 - While putting my empty bowl of cereal in the sink, Dar calls to me from the other room to tell me that "Miss Jay is on!" I race back in to find that the lunatics will not be having a regular photo shoot today, instead they're going to film a commercial for an energy drink and have to wear roller skates and kiss a guy. One girl starts freaking out because she's a lesbian. The channel gets changed.

This guy scored two more points than you did last night ... two.

8:26 - Cliff Lee doubles to left and gives his teammate "the claw" hand signal. I'm almost certain Miss Jay was giving the same "claw" minutes earlier. After Elvis sacrifices in a run, the side is retired and we're suddenly back on Venice Beach, shooting an ad with roller skating lunatics.

8:28 - Now reaching level 9 freak out status, the lesbian lunatic confesses to MISTER Jay (that's the silver haired guy who wears more makeup than ANY of the Real Housewives of Atlanta) that she was sexually assaulted as a teenager and no longer trusts men. I scoff and roll my eyes and then realize that I'm being super insensitive because she probably was sexually assaulted. My wife gives me "the claw" while Nigel Barker instructs one of the models on how to properly flirt with a man.

"Kiss him," my wife says out loud. "Kiss him!"

Nigel does not, and soon the orthodox Jewish lunatic with the size G (not kidding!) breasts takes her turn to shoot the commercial.

8:33 - Okay, this is just ridiculous. Not only have we been watching America's Next Top Lunatic for the last seven minutes, but now another lunatic is crying. This one is like 9 feet tall and is terrified that she'll "fall in the dirt" while rollerskating. I scoff and roll my eyes again until she really does wipe out HARD and slams her elbows on the pavement. She REALLY took a spill and is now even more shaken than before. She can't remember her lines, her voice cracks with every word and she's rollerskating like a baby lamb. Nigel goes and gets her some elbow and knee pads which help about as much as a bowl of Boo Berry. Thank God for a commercial (not because I don't wanna watch, but because the last seven minutes of television have been absolutely riveting and I need a break). Let's go back to the Sixers.

This honestly looks like the saddest Giraffe ever.

8:36 - Thirty seconds into the 4th quarter and Dar can't help herself, "Uggghhh, this is SOOOO BORRINNNGGG." She tries to calm herself down with deep breaths until Comcast Sportsnet shows their "McDonald's Small Fry of the Game", a cute little black baby in the crowd with a superimposed french fry carton around him. It's absolutely adorable and earns me a few more minutes of game action.

8:42 - LeBron almost catches a ridiculous alley-opp, cramming it off the back rim, causing me to blurt out, "HOE DOG!" ... I have absolutely no idea what this means or why I said it, but Dar wastes no time asking, "Hoe dog?"

I have no answer for her and try to keep my eyes on the game, but keep hearing her mumble to herself, "Hoe dog huh? ... Hoe dog ....... Hoe dog? ... Hoe dog."

She eventually stops but then says that "maybe we'll have hot dogs friday night." I tell her that's a great idea.

8:48 - Back to the lunatics where Tyra, Nigel, Zac Rosen and the big black guy who wears a cape are critiquing their commercial shoots. Tyra always has such great posture. I wonder if she played the viola growing up? A few of the girls gave absolutely terrible performances and at least three of them are crying. The orthodox Jew with the bladdow! titties looks incredibly stiff, but not nearly as bad as Big Bird the 9 footer who upon further review roller-skates more like a drunk baby lamb. She also has the worst posture I've ever seen. I want her eliminated. She HAS TO get eliminated ............. So who do they eliminate? ......... the Jew with the absolute humongous yammers.

Life is not fair.

9:10 - After some flipping between games and arguing over how to properly use a remote control, we put on Modern Family, a show we've seen a bunch of times (and like very much), but have never gotten REALLY into.

The father Phil is one of those actors who can do anything and be funny. I like him. I think the gay couple is a little annoying, but the Colombian lady and her orthodox Jew titties are just bonkers, so I'm always up for watching it. Well, Miss Columbia was showing off her ying-yangs so I had no problem missing some hoops. Plus, the Sixers are the most boring team in the league.

Just stop it! ... just stop!

9:29 - As Modern Family ends, we flip back to the Sixers to catch them walking back to the locker room, heads down with shame. Immediately Darrie flips over to the Real Housewives of Atlanta where I am introduced to a woman named Nene, a soul sister who was recuperating from getting her breasts lifted and her nose done.  

(For the record, I never actually plan on writing about titties so much; they're just ubiquitous in our TV watching. Between lunatics who SHOULD NOT have size G's to a Columbian who probably has size H's, it's not my fault I am surrounded by jang-jangs all the time.)

Anyway, what followed during the next half hour of Real Housewives of Atlanta deserves its own post, its own blog and it's own panel discussion with Miss Jay, Mister Jay, Tim McCarver and Nene Hilario of the Denver Nuggets.  

Let it be known that we did not watch the Real Housewives of Atlanta the past few years, but after meeting this Nene woman, we are HOOKED. In a three minute span, she told the Don't Be Tardy For the Party lady not to "squeeze my titties" and "don't hurt Michael Jackson now." Later, she gave an incredible neck-roll and finger-snap worthy of Blaine Edwards and Antoine Mayweather (You remember them! From In Living Color's Men on Film!).

All in all, it was a tremendous night. Yeah, the Sixers lost and my fantasy basketball team is in last place and the only woman I've ever known with straight-up G tators is out of my life. But I got to meet Nene, who promises a future of undeniable drama and comedy. And I got to do it all on my couch, in my sweatpants with a bowl of Boo Berry cereal ... sitting right next to my wonderful Dar.

We Played High School Basketball With Kobe Bryant and You Didn't

Evster's note: With the NBA season underway, I wanted to post this article that my friend Feddd and I wrote back in 2003. It first appeared in an online magazine called Chocolate Milk. 

From right to left: Evan, Kobe and an enormous chipmunk.

By Evan and Feddd

Yes, it's true. Two-thirds of the Chocolate Milk staff played high school ball with Kobe Bryant. When Evan and Jesse were seniors, and Kobe a junior, their Lower Merion squad made it to the District Finals and to the Elite Eight of the State Tournament. By the time the season ended, Kobe was considered the top player in the country, Evan had lost his virginity, and Jesse was closer to his parents than he'd ever been.

On paper, it might appear that Evan and Jesse enjoyed similar athletic careers but in truth their experiences were quite different. Evan was the starting point guard and Jesse was widely thought to be an assistant coach. What follows is an account from both men of the District Semifinal against Richard Hamilton and Coatesville, played at the famed Palestra in Philadelphia.

Pregame

 

Ev: As I stroll around the locker room getting loose for the biggest game of my career, Kobe comes over to me excited and raring to go.

“You ready, Triggerman?” Kob asks me. Triggerman is the silly nickname I was given by a local sportswriter who once wrote that I was “the triggerman in the Evan-Kobe alley-oop connection.”

“No doubt, KB.” I give Kob a pound, both of us confident and prepared to take down Richard Hamilton and Coatesville. We discuss how we’re going to defend Rip, try to limit his touches, and deny him all over the court.

Feddd: Half-dressed and suddenly surrounded by Coatesville players, two things occur to me: I’m in the wrong locker room and I might be gay. Shirtless, I wander through the unfamiliar and ancient Palestra hallways until I find my team. I take a locker between my friend Chris Lawson and freshman three-point ace, Dan Pangrazio. Kobe Bryant is three lockers to my right. I really, really want to ask him for his autograph.

The Game

Ev: The pace of the game is frantic, up-tempo, run-and-gun, exactly how we like it. On an out-of-bounds play, I throw Kobe a lob and the crowd grimaces thinking I’m hoisting an ugly 28-foot three-pointer. Kobe leaps over everyone, catches the rock with two hands and flushes it right over some dude wearing Rec-Specs. The sold out Palestra crowd explodes as we strut back on D, and I glimpse up into the student section to see this cute little sophomore give me the most sparkling smile. This is so cool.

Feddd rebounds for Ev and Kobe during practice.

Feddd: Holy shit, my entire left leg is asleep. You’d think this place, storied and famous as it is, would have a more comfortable bench. Lawson and I are at it again, having our customary contest to see who can produce a deeper, pinker rash by resting our elbows heavily on our thighs. We’re off to a furious start, with Lawson slightly in the lead, a fact that I attribute to him having “hippo arms.”

Ev: During a timeout, I can’t hear a word Coach is saying over the deafening crowd. KB, seated next to me suggests that we keep pushing the ball up the court, taking advantage of our speed and fast break. I’m not sure, but it looks like Feddd, who hasn’t played a minute, might be injured.

Feddd: Well, I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but I think I just sprained my ankle standing up. I hate timeouts. I can’t hear a goddamn word Coach is saying because nobody will let me in the huddle. Where the hell is my mom? I swear I’ve looked at everybody in the crowd and she swore she’d be here. If she doesn’t show, we’ll be making a little stop in Temper Tantrum City on our way to Baskin-Robbins after the game. Is it just me, or is that old woman in the Coatesville section giving me the finger? Not cool.

Ev: In a tight game coming down to the wire, Kobe fouls out with over 5 minutes remaining. One half of the arena celebrates while our faithful fans are silent, doubtful that we have any chance to win without the big fella. I gather up my fellow teammates and tell them that despite what everyone thinks, we did not get this far being a one-man team. We will pull this one out and this is our chance to shine. Kobe, devastated that he’s fouled out and unable to contribute, agrees and tells us that he has the utmost confidence in us. He says, “Don’t let it end like this fellas, refuse to lose.”

Feddd: Oh, Christ, Kobe just fouled out, we’re obviously going to lose. A whole season of sleepy legs for this? Is Ev talking? What could he possibly be saying? Who died and made him Knute Rockne? Is Knute Rockne dead?

Ev: Inspired by our captain’s words, we go out and blitz Coatesville. We dominate the final stages of the game, converting on numerous fast breaks and playing smart basketball leading us to victory and our first berth in the District Finals in over 40 years.

Best Friends Forever

Feddd: Holy fuck! This is the biggest splinter I’ve ever seen. It really might be touching the bone, I'm not kidding. Oh God, it hurts, it hurts. It feels like someone just threw a spear into my fucking leg. Holy crap! Where are we going…are we charging the court? Oh, it hurts to hug, guys, it hurts to hug!

Ev: Our student body rushes the court as we all celebrate, dancing, hugging, laughing, and enjoying the victory. That cute sophomore runs up to me and kisses me on the cheek, then sprints away with her friends, smiling. A euphoric rush fills my body as we head to the locker room where we talk to reporters, dance some more, and chow down on some free hoagies given to us by a local booster. During a post-game speech, Kobe thanks the team for pulling through, and allowing him the opportunity to play in at least one more game. This is the best hoagie I’ve ever had.

Feddd: Dickballs! Would it kill somebody to get a cheese hoagie? Or tuna? They know I’m a vegetarian. I do not eat red meat, they know that! What kind is this…ham, of course. Here’s a roast beef, oh, and here’s an Italian. And here’s a wad of meat wrapped in another wad of meat. Assholes! And this splinter is starting to look really bad. Is there such thing as wood poisoning? It’s turning pink, Jesus, it’s turning pink, what does that mean? Wait...Kobe's talking now. This looks emotional. Did he...son of a bitch, did he just call me Jeff? Holy crap, Lawson just ripped one. How does nobody smell that?