I've never shared an egg salad sandwich with Baron Davis, and I'm sure he would make a fantastic nanny to my 11 (count 'em) children; but I'm pretty sure the guy likes the title "professional basketball player" more than THE TITLE, if you Yao Ming.
Scorned for years for being the Tracey Gold to Vince Carter's Dana Plato, Davis achieved a level of credibility on the Warriors' roster -- and his neck beard will only ever be rivaled by Jeff Bridges's Obidiah Stane in Iron Man, and, possibly, Henry David Thoreau's.
He, amazingly, stayed injury-free, which I'm sure indentured him in the hearts and souls of hipster fruitcakes and 5th-round fantasy basketball chance-takers; but this latest move, in which Baron Davis leaves Le Warriers and takes a dollar cab to the LA Clippers, blows your mind. And when I write "your" I really mean "my."
There are too many stories about sports figures
(and porn stars)
who don't live up to their fans' expectations, but for nearly 2 years I was prettyfairlyquite happy that the bee-bearded Daron Bavis had transcended such talk.
[cold stare]Not anymore.[/cold stare]
But, really, what did you expect from a guy who, on the eve of clinching a playoff berth, was so hungover that his coach benched him?