It’s the NBA, and it kicks off today. Oh almighty lord, I am excited. I can’t wait to see some very big men playing a very good sport, whinging to the press, popping off rounds in strip clubs, throwing cake at random punters on the street, and not feeding their dogs.
To celebrate this holiest of days, we’ll have a red hot listen to the musical works of one K. Bryant. Despite being the most talented baller of the past decade, Kobe is constantly slagged as an egomaniacal dickface. Sure, his private and public criticisms of teammates and owners might have an adverse effect on Laker chemistry, but the guy once scored 81 points in a game. He could’ve ended the game by lopping off Andrew Bynum’s head in an Apocalypto-esque ritual sacrifice and I wouldn’t give a shit. For mine, Kobe can do no wrong; sports geniuses are supposed to be aloof and egotistical.
He’s the most electrifying man you could put on a basketball court, but behind the microphone he’s… well, a bit less good:
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