Memory Lane (V)

T'was December 2000, and the end of my one-year contract was fast approaching. And because I was madly in love (cue Today by The Smashing Pumpkins), and because I was having such a blast living and working in Korea, I decided that I'd like to teach for a second year. That decision was pretty much reached before the end of my first month on the penninsula, but I realized at the time that I might have better options than the school at which I was then employed. It was and still is a great school, but I no longer wanted to teach on Saturdays, and believed a change of scenery is always a good thing, especially if you live in the heart of one of Seoul's biggest nightlife destinations and all the money you earn is going toward booze, designer clothes, and more booze. But where to look?

One night while out and about, drunk and zestful in Hongdae, a Korean girl struck up a conversation with me. She wasn't particularly pretty, and I was already spoken for, but I'm as polite as they come, often to my own detriment, and we talked for a while. She was born and raised in Seoul, but had studied for a number of years in Scotland (home of my ancestry, Clan Sparkles), and her English was impeccable. We made small talk for a spell, and soon -- as all drunken conversations between me and women tend to turn -- we began discussing music. She surprised me: her favorite band was The Pogues. She was also into The Smiths and Greenday. Two out of three ain't bad, I told myself. It was then that she explained she worked part-time at City Beat, a record shop close to Hongik U where I regularly bought CDs (I left my hip-hop collection back home before coming to Korea, which I regret to this day because I still can't find a copy of Main Source's Breaking Atoms, nor Masta Ace's Slaughtahouse). A week or so later, after a long day's work, I walked into City Beat to pick up Outkast's Stankonia and found the "lass" manning the counter. Again we made small talk, and after I mentioned that I was looking for a job, she handed me a card. She worked at a recruiting agency during the day, she explained, and told me to give her a call anytime to set up a face-to-face with one of their recruiters.

2 months passed. With only a month left on my contract, one morning I called the number on the lass's card and set up an appointment at the agency's office for the following Monday. Anyone who knows me, has stalked me, or who reads this blog fairly regularly probably knows where this is eventually heading; but please, for the sake of those who don't, try not to spoil it. I'll buy you a hot chocolate.

I interviewed with a sallow fellow named Andy. I told him what I was looking for (my expectations were modest), and he drugged me, raped me, and left me for dead in a gulch.

Sorry, just making sure you're paying attention.

Over the next couple of weeks I interviewed with half a dozen schools. All were passable, but what I was really looking for was a school that would offer a decent-sized apartment to, hopefully, share with the then GF (when I wasn't hosting cabalistic blood orgies to my demon god, Rosgaroth). For my part, I was totally upfront about this (the GF part, at least) and didn't try to hide the fact. But a lot of the apartments weren't even large enough for me, and I'm roughly as big as a piece of bee shit.

Finally we found a school in Apkujeong offering a small-yet-comfortable-enough officetel apartment in Kangnam. I interviewed, signed the contract on the spot, and left the school with high spirits, elated and relieved that that was taken care of.

But while it was a great school and everything, and the hours were few and the comely secretary regularly offered me fruit juice and kimbap, my recruiting agency found out a week prior to my visa extension's expiration that the school, in fact, was not licensed legally to hire a foreign English teacher.

Bummer.

Double bummer when I found out that the school's manager, unbeknownst to the owner, was threatening my agency that he would report me to immigration for teaching without a visa unless I continued to work at the school. The agency humored him by allowing the school to pay for a ticket for me to Osaka (so I could return to Korea on a tourist visa), but behind the scenes we were planning my escape.

What choice did I have? The Saturday after my trip to Osaka, the agency scheduled a moving truck to transport my belongings (in haste I left behind my collection of potato chips that resemble unicorns) to their office and set me and the GF up in one of the finest yeogwans Sinchon has to offer, free of charge, and my job search began anew.

It's no fun being a man on the run, I've learned, but I soon found a new school in Seodaemun-gu (say that 5 times fast and try to keep a straight face) offering a 2-bedroom apartment and a refrigerator continually restocked with airplane bottles of Beefeater gin. Okay, I made that last part up, but the rest is true.

My second year in Korea had begun.

Land of Nod

The nominees for the 2006 Oscars were announced not long ago, and I'm going to make some comments and give my predictions. I've seen few (if indeed I've seen any) of the nominated pictures and performances, but that has never stopped the Academy members, so why should it stop me? I decided to omit the lesser categories that nobody gives a damn about, and some of the major ones that only matter to hardcore film fans. I'll get to them when the broadcast rolls around, as I plan to write a running diary of the event when it airs. So know that, should you die before then, you'll miss possibly the most anticipated work of writing that doesn't have the words 'Harry' and 'Potter' in its title.

Without further adieu:

Best Picture: "Brokeback Mountain," "Capote," "Crash," "Good Night, and Good Luck," "Munich."

A month ago I predicted that King Kong was a shoe-in, as well as Brokeback Mountain. So I was half right. Just goes to show that hype infects us all. It's hard to call a movie that makes over 250 million dollars a failure, but Peter Jackson probably would have (nay, definitely would have) gotten a nod had Kong made a shitload (I mean a really big shitload) of cash. Remember before its release how some were predicting it might rival Titanic for box office uber-supremacy? Yeah, me neither.

I think Munich was the only other film I had correct in my predictions. I'm surprised that Capote garnered a Best Picture nod. Philip Seymour Hoffman will win the statue for his role, you can mark my words, but biopics tend to get overlooked, don't they? Was Ray nominated last year?

Prediction: Brokeback Mountain. I'll bet my gay cowboy farm on it.

Darkhorse: Munich. Because Hollywood is full of Jews. There, I said it. I can't take it back now.

Actor: Philip Seymour Hoffman, "Capote"; Terrence Howard, "Hustle & Flow"; Heath Ledger, "Brokeback Mountain"; Joaquin Phoenix, "Walk the Line"; David Strathairn, "Good Night, and Good Luck."

I think my brain is about to explode. PSH is winning that award, make no mistake; but it's nice to see Terrence Howard (T-Ho, big ups!) get the nod. Joaquin, too, as he's probably the most inherently talented of the lot. And it's nice to see Heath Ledger (of 10 Things I Hate About You and A Knight's Tale fame) up there. It makes the whole thing surreal.

Prediction: PSH (act like u know)

Darkhorse: a toss-up between Heath and the late River Phoenix's brother, the one with the hairlip.

Actress: Judi Dench, "Mrs. Henderson Presents"; Felicity Huffman, "Transamerica"; Keira Knightley, "Pride & Prejudice"; Charlize Theron, "North Country"; Reese Witherspoon, "Walk the Line."

A sure sign of the Apocalypse? Heath Ledger and Kiera Knightly have both been nominated as best actor and best actress, respectively...Is it just me, or does Dame Judi Dench get nominated every fucking year?...Am I a bastard and possibly a misogynist for admitting that I care more about who the best supporting actor is than who's best actress?

Prediction: Reese Witherspoon. I hope she gives a shout out to her brother Clarence when she wins. Props to the 2 people who got that, by the way.

Darkhorse: Felicity Huffman

Supporting Actor: George Clooney, "Syriana"; Matt Dillon, "Crash"; Paul Giamatti, "Cinderella Man"; Jake Gyllenhaal, "Brokeback Mountain"; William Hurt, "A History of Violence."

This is pretty weak. I'm secretly hoping Cloony wins, because he's such a man-muffin. In fact, he should have played the gay cowboy, not Jake "my last name is hard to spell, especially if you're drunk" Gyllenhaal. I did a double take when I saw William Hurt's name; I thought it read 'John Hurt.' Is John Hurt still alive?

Prediction: Jake G.

Darkhorse: Jake G.

Supporting Actress: Amy Adams, "Junebug"; Catherine Keener, "Capote"; Frances McDormand, "North Country"; Rachel Weisz, "The Constant Gardener"; Michelle Williams, "Brokeback Mountain."

OK, who's fucking with me? I sort of believed for a minute there that Heath Ledger was nominated for best actor. Then I had my doubts that this is the real world and I'm not dreaming when I read that Kiera Knightly was nominated for best actress. Now I'm scared and I want to wake up. Michelle Williams, the chubby, pucker-faced chick from Dawson's Creek is nominated best supporting actress? Someone dropped acid in my Pocari Sweat.

Prediction: Aw, hell, who am I kidding? Hopefully James Van Ber Beek will get nominated next year. That would make my life.

(Bonus: can you imagine what would happen if Ledger and Williams -- who are married -- both won? I bet they'd name their child Damien just so as to not tempt fate)

Darkhorse: Rachel Weisz (was also in Constantine)

Director: Ang Lee, "Brokeback Mountain"; Bennett Miller, "Capote"; Paul Haggis, "Crash"; George Clooney, "Good Night, and Good Luck"; Steven Spielberg, "Munich."

I think Spielberg has this one, and only because Ang Lee directed Hulk, which is without a doubt the worst film I've seen in the last 2 decades. I don't care if what I've read is true and that his film about 2 gay cowboys can reduce men (hetero sexual men, even) to tears...the guy directed Hulk. Plus it's not nice to piss off Steven Spielberg. Just ask Crispin Glover.

Prediction: Spielberg.

Darkhorse: duh.

Animated Feature Film: "Howl's Moving Castle"; " Tim Burton's Corpse Bride"; "Wallace & Gromit in the Curse of the Were-Rabbit."

Prediction: If Wallace & Vomit, sorry, Gromit doesn't win, I swear I will become a muslim. I swear to Allah.

Academy Award winners previously announced this year:

Honorary Award : Candice Cameron.

Sorry, just keeping you on your toes (assuming you have feet).

Robert Altman.

I love M*A*S*H like it's my second child.

The Gordon E. Sawyer award: Gary Demos.

Who is Gary Demos? Matter of fact, who is Gordon E. Sawyer?

True(Fake) Story

An hour ago, as I was going out for a smoke, I made the mistake of vociferating my thoughts (always a dangerous thing). Here's what transpired:

Me: Smells like someone's cooking some ramen.

Greasy-haired high school drop-out: What did you just say?

Me: What?

GHHSDO: Just now, man. When you walked past, what'd you say?

Me: About what?

GHHSDO: You said, "Someone's cookin' some ramen."

Me: No, I meant somewhere I smell some noodles, you know? It was just an observation.

GHHSDO: Oh, an observation, huh? Well who the hell are you, man? Isaac fucking Newton? I only came here to do two things, kick some ass and eat some ramen. Looks like we're almost outta ramen.


I sense trouble brewing.

Meat me in the bathroom

Fucking Seollal, man.

Last week I and an old acquaintance went to what is unequivocally the best Korean barbecue restaurant on Rod Serling's Green Earth. I'm telling you, if you like meat, get thee to 신씨화로 posthaste (website: http://www.sinssi.co.kr/). There are 3 in Bundang, and a bunch in Seoul. I give you my word, you'll dig it like gravediggers and coal miners. It's a bit pricey compared to your average 고기집, but it's well worth it.

I was all set to wow the wife tonight (in the gastronomical sense, you cheeky monkey), but we were disappointed to find out, upon arrival, that the place was closed due to the holiday. I hear there's this wacky invention called a telephone; maybe I should use it the next time we plan to go out for dinner, just to make sure the place to which we're going is actually open. On second thought, nah.

Plan B was decent, but it was really like swapping playoff tickets for exhibition ones. I like me my kimchi, so kimchi sam-gyup-sal did the trick. The beer and soju didn't hurt too bad neither. The evening's biggest surprise (besides Tom Jones serenading our table, I mean)? The wife ordered an egg roll (에그 롤), which turned out to be just that, a roll of egg, like an omelet loaf. It's a good thing we had decided against ordering 2.

Tomorrow I have the esteemed pleasure of looking after the 18th letter again. She was expelled from nursery school, can you believe it? Of course I'm joking [picture me chuckling slightly, like a gentleman telling an amusing quip at a country club]; it so happens that the nursery school is closed tomorrow. So as soon as I have a chance I'll post a transcription of Daddy Daycare/CSI Bundang. In the meantime, here are some pics of the fun-lite evening:


A police sketch of yours truly. The crime? Chronic toilet paper flushing. The wife doesn't think it looks at all like me, but the little girl disagrees. Psshh, what do babies know?

You be the judge:



Upon further inspection, the wife was correct, that doesn't look a thing like me.

I have ears.

Porn (a poem)

This chicken is pretty good
This movie looks promising
I can't wait to graduate
I love the color and taste of flesh

I'm still awake
I will never sleep
I can actually discern my fingernails lengthening
My skin is becoming reptillian

Red, yellow and orange
Lots of pink

Blue, grey and purple
Too much transparency

But I still can't get over
The fact that that leg of chicken
Looked like a fried penis
And a pair of testicles

I just flu in from Osaka, and boy are my adenoids tired

I was really looking forward to last night, I really was. Near the end of a long day, my mind was occupied with thoughts of Cloud Atlas (thanks for the rec, denz; fantastic novel), followed by an episode or two of The Twilight Zone, some cold beers, and the meatball sub I had in the fridge. Then the wife rang me shortly after dinner to tell me that the 18th Letter was sick, that she had a fever of 40 Celcius (236 Fahrenheit, if my conversion is accurate), and I knew it wasn't going to be a fun or restful evening.

The little girl was asleep when I arrived home. I showered, changed clothes and picked up the novel, but who was I kidding? Not a minute later she began coughing and crying, and, like that, my evening was done. No harm, I figured: Friday's a pretty breezy day for me, so staying up later than usual and taking care of the sicky (Mommy's schedule the next day wasn't nearly as fortuitous) wasn't a huge bother. Just don't infect me, kiddo I prayed.

We ended up staying awake until 3:30, watching Dora The Explorer. It was the little girl, sharp as she is, who pointed out that, at that late an hour, Dora really should have been in bed. Where's her Mommy, she asked me? Beats me, I told her. Then we had a quite lengthy discussion about why no one in the Doraverse ever administered swift justice to Swiper and beat him senseless for stealing their shit. You'd think that, with all their skills of deduction and orienteering, Dora and her gang of thugs would have clued in a while ago that Swiper is a no-good shit.

But I digress.

This morning the angel's fever had not abated, and she was forced, against her powerful will, to miss nursery school. She definitely doesn't follow after the old man. If I remember correctly, my school attendence record for missed classes per year was close to Kobe Bryant's current points per game average.

It was my immense pleasure to take care of the poor, sick Golden Child. Here's what transpired:

9:10 -- Mr. Mom again. Last night's dinner is the new breakfast.

9:15 -- Where was my head? I forgot to turn on The Wiggles: like kimchi and cold rice, a breakfast time staple at Chez Sparkles. God bless The Wiggles.

9:25 -- I'm pretty hungry myself. I wonder when I'll be able to eat that cup of instant curry noodles I have stashed in the cupboard? To stave my appetite, I drink some Del Monte tomato juice. The little girl passes when I offer her some. More for me, skipper. A lot of foreigners frown on Asian-style tomato juice, and a lot of it is shite, but Del Monte has their shit mastered. By the way, if anyone tells you that Mott's or V8 (which I actually prefer) is closer to the taste of real tomatoes than the Korean stuff, tell them they haven't got a clue. Tell them that Mott's and V8 is closer to tomato paste. Then kick them in the spine and steal their bus pass.

9:50 -- I've given up on breakfast. I have to set a good example, and curry noodles, M&Ms, and a large bag of sour cream and onion potato chips just isn't in the cards. Woe is me.

10:00 -- They're showing the replay of the Henin-Hardenne (to spell) vs. Sharapova Australian Open match on TV. We are both enthralled for several minutes, hopefully for totally different reasons.

10:10 -- Our first sign of trouble. The little girl has this life-like doll (I'm Talking Tina, and I want to...), and she wants to make it cry. The sadist. I tell her that it's not a very motherly thing to want to hurt a child, but she persists. I weigh the consequences of having to listen to the cries of a real kid, and those of a fake one. Obviously I opt for the latter. I wait until the thing's asleep, then toss it at the wall.

Waaaaaah!, followed by high fives.

10:30 -- After reading the girl Where The Wild Things Are (fear-mongering at its finest), she begs me to put on the Best of Elmo DVD. At this point I'm putty in her hands and she knows it. I probably should mention that I did have work to do today; it's no mean feat juggling a sick and cranky daughter and keeping an Internet poker hot streak going, you know. It's about this time that I broke out the "you're not really sick, are you?" routine. I would have pressed her harder, but I realized that she was so hot she probably could have kicked Johnny Storm's ass, so I left matters alone.

10:55 -- Sound asleep. It seems Elmo no longer gets her so excited that she starts biting the furniture and tries to create firearms out of Duplo. The end of an era.

11:10 -- Meatball sub. Finally. I turn on the TV (first by teasing the standby button with my tongue, then stroking its contours, telling it what great reception it receives, how smart and together it is). Nothing's on, so I settle on Oprah, which would normally be akin to pulling every one of my ball hairs out with tweezers, but today Ope has on James Frey, the guy whose book she endorsed for her bullshit Book Club (slight digression: one of my favorite books is East of Eden, and I need a new copy, but have put off purchasing one because every good copy I come across has her goddamn Book Club logo on it; I'm a man of principles), but who turned out to be a stinking, motherfucking liar of the highest order. Oprah is roasting the fucker and his publisher. THIS is riveting television. I'm expecting Oprah to leap on the guy and bite his shoulder like one of the zombies in Dawn of the Dead. For Frey, an ex junkie (he's says so, but that's probably bullshit too), I bet this upbraiding is a gazillion times worse than any intervention he has experienced or made up. Seriously, I won't say a negative thing about Oprah for a week. That was possibly the best thing I've seen on television, ever.

12:05 -- the little one wakes up. I give her a cookie (technically a biscuit, but I'm all Newspeak when it comes to shit my wife buys at Paris Baguette) and a glass of water.

12:10 -- The wife arrives home. She has that "thank god she's still alive" look she always wears whenever she returns from leaving me at home with the girl. It wasn't a completely smooth getaway, however. She wanted to know what the deceased Jehova's Witness lady was doing on our veranda, stuffed awkwardly behind the washing machine.

What Jehova's Witness lady? I feigned surprise.

10:49pm -- I have nothing to fear. My alibi is tight.

Back to Back Rhymin' -- III Times Dope

When is Kendall Gill coming back to the L?
You clearly have no respect for his boxing career. But with that hair, who could blame you?

During the spring of 2001, that John Starks had a nut removed due to testicle torsion.

See? That's an internet myth. Everyone knows he had his testicles removed prior to game 7 in 93.

Who wins the Superbowl?
Got to agree on the Steelers. I mean they have some of the best nicknames ever. Big Ben (Lord knows what sort of appendage comes with that title) and the Bus - The Bus! Incidentally, I predict that Bettis will be the first player to have a heart attack at the Superbowl, assuming Eddy Curry isn't in the stands wearing a Reggie Lewis throwback.

Another reason? Hines Ward was born in Seoul.

I have to wonder what the backstory is. He kind of looks half Asian. I wonder if he is the product of a juicy girl and Pvt. Tyrone Ward. Where I can find out this information? Google?

So yes, the Steelers get my vote. And for all the right reasons.

That said, I think the best subplot of the Super Bowl XL (XL!) is that Shaun Alexander is going into it with no contract. The guy is the league MVP, and has the potential to be the winning XL MVP with an expiring contract. What sort of leverage would that give him going into contract negotiations? The guy will be acting like Rod Tidwell if they win.

But what happens if the Cawks lose and he blows an ACL? Will the Seattle management just leave him in agony on the field and walk away? This would make for riveting television.

Who's performing at half-time this year?
I think Timberlake will be back. Performing with the Survivors of Breast Cancer Choir.

Predictions
Your suggestion that Kobe will fake cry surprises me. Doesn't everything Kobe do feel fake? Look, Jordan was no angel, he was a big gambling, womanising, egocentric sumbitch. But you knew, just knew, it was exactly who he was from the way he held himself. But Kobe? I'm convinced dude is a sociopath. A sociopath who happens to be the greatest modern player. Have you read the police transcripts of the Kobe interview? Bizarre shit. I'm not sure what my point is, but I rest my case.

I'm very keen to see how the Amare thing pans out. Part of me hopes that he comes back strong. The other part of me knows that I don't have him on my fantasy roster, so fuck Amare! Honestly, I'm really quite impressed by what the Suns have done. Kurt Thomas hasn't been a huge addition, but he's done enough. I can't believe that Q and JJ leaving has had almost no effect. And bloody Boris. Don't get me started on Boris. I don't see them getting bounced in the first round. Plus Amare - the world could be theirs. Sans Amare, they'll still make noise.

As to Peja - if there's one thing that baffles me, it's all the sports writers saying "CALLED IT!". Peja/Test was the most obvious trade in history. It even makes sense in fantasy - how often does that kind of universal allignment happen? I'm sure you've got a spin on the trade, but I will say one thing - I trust Lamar Bird.

I think the trade works for the Kings because they have two years to see if Test can just get it. He's basically the man on the Kings now. What do they lose? Not much. Peja had checked out this season and I guarantee he would have opted out.

The Pacers? They've rid themselves of the headache. They know Peja could bolt, but a bolting Peja is a lot better than an unscrewed Test. If they resign him, they win. If Peja walks, at least they had a shot.

The trade in a nutshell? It's like the Pacers and Kings swapped gutshot straights. River pending.

My predictions?

- Shaq wakes himself (and the Heat) up. He's all about the post season at this stage of his career, surely?

- T-Mac guns for 60+. I don't know, if the back holds up, I see him reminding everyone who was the talk of the league 2 seasons ago.

- Knicks put together a ru... In the words of the great Chaz Reinhold: "Damn you, Roger. Damn it! Damn, you!"

Back to Back Rhymin' -- MC 900 ft. Sparkles

This is just like when I first saw Pacino and DeNiro share the screen in 'Heat': the wait is finally over.

1) It took the guy scoring 81 points, but it finally Dawnn Lewis'd on me how young Kobe still is. It's sobering to realize that he reasonably has at least 6 or 7 good seasons left in him. By the time he's set to retire, he's going to be like Mark Messier or Julio Franco to me: I won't be be able to fathom that he's still playing.

PS - When is Kendall Gill coming back to the L?

2) My messy divorce with the Knicks came 2 seasons after they faced the Spurs in the Finals. The next season they faced the Raps in the first round of the playoffs, and I was torn, much like how Pater Van Gundy must have felt watching his sons coach the Rockets and Heat against one another. The next season, when they faced the Raps again and lost, I knew an era had ended. Not really an era, even, but the (praiseworthy) last gasps of the Ewing/Oakley/Starks years. Look at who my heroes were: Latrell Spreewell, Marcus Camby, Larry Johnson, Allan Houston. Charlie fucking Ward.When I read, in an Internet cafe during the spring of 2001, that John Starks had a nut removed due to testicle torsion, that pretty much sealed the deal.

But I still hold hope for a reconcilliation. Someday.

3) Kobe's my MVP as of right now, much to my own chagrin. I hate the guy. Nash deserves some love, but Kobe has a worse team than last season, and they have a winning record. In all likelihood they're making the playoffs. When they start to tank (and I imagine the fallout from his 81-point performance might have a negative effect on his teammates), I'll switch my pick to Nash or Chauncy Billups.What I'm fearing the most is THAT scenario. You thought the Nash/O'Neal debate was bad last year, just wait until the race card REALLY gets pulled and people start wondering why a white PG with a 50-win season is getting preference over a black PG with a 60-win (70?) one.

On to your questions. I'm getting all Memento and answering them in reverse order:

Who wins the Superbowl?
A week ago I would have said the Seahawks, but I don't think you can take the Steelers for granted. They have a '97 Denver Broncos thing going, and the Seahawks, while good, aren't exactly the Favre-led Packers of '97 (Roethlisberger isn't exactly John Elway either, though). I wish I could be more excited about the big game, but I haven't been into to football hardcore since moving to Korea. That might change as the sport grows in popularity and more games are broadcast here, which seems to be the trend. We'll see. Plus, I'd rather watch the games with Korean announcers. The CBS/ESPN/Fox etc. announcers are so mind-numbingly annoying to listen to. My grandfather, a huge baseball fan, always watches games with the sound off. It used to bug me as a kid, but now I understand where he's coming from.

So, yeah, my pick is the Steelers. The crowd in Detroit will probably be 80-90% Steelers fans, which will help them significantly. I just hope it's a good game.

Who's performing at half-time this year? Jenna Jameson?

Who or What has been the biggest disappointment of the season?
The Miami Heat, for one. Not that their underachieving record is that big a surprise, given the dubious off-season additions to their roster, but still. They made those moves in an effort to be able to close out big games, and what happens? They still choke in crucial situations. I watched them come from behind last week against the Spurs. I think they were up by 4 with under 3 minutes to go, and of course San Antonio absolutely embarrassed them in the final minutes. Same old (new) Heat. Jayson Williams has come around this past month, but Antoine "motherfucker" Walker is still a chucker, and GP is still an old man. And Shaq looks like he's hiding a small child under his uniform. To paraphrase Bill Walton, "put down the hoagie, big man! Put it down!" If they get bounced out of the playoffs in the first round, which is a definite possibility, they'll be the biggest disappointment.

Another huge disappointment has been the Sonics. Seriously, the team this year isn't that different than last year's team. What, they can't compete without Jerome James? Nate Mac's departure hurts, for sure, but he's not exactly setting the world on fire up in Portland. I'm genuinely confused. Besides the fact that they don't play any D, they have a good team, one that should be competing with the best in their division. A lot of people think that they overachieved last year, but I don't buy that. They don't look that great on paper, but when you see them play, you understand. Except for most of this season, I guess. But that amazing 2 OT win in Phoenix a few days ago proves that they have what it takes. Why can't they play like that all the time? Bob Hill is a competent coach, by all indications, and if they miss the playoffs, which seems likely, they'll be a bigger disappointment than the Heat.

Individual disappointments?

Peja Stojakovich. He had a pretty crappy year last season, but I expected him to rebound and play like fire this year. No Webber, contract year...everything seemed to indicate that he'd have a fantastic year in Sacramento. And he did, for a brief period early in the season. But then he got "injured," missed a bunch of games, began shooting a nauseating percentage and running up and down the court slower than my daughter doing long division. Now he's been caught up in a nixed deal that would have sent him to the Pacers for Artest. That can't help matters.

By the way, when I discovered in November that Peja's only a year older than me, I was shocked. I wouldn't have been more surprised if I had learned that Halle Berry is a man.

Of course the Rockets, specifically Tracy McGrady, have been disappointing, too. But McGrady's and Yao's injuries are real, not made up. So that exempts them.

Bold second half predictions?

I honestly believe that Ron Artest is going to announce his retirement.

The Spurs are going to get upset in the playoffs, then every sports writer is going to claim that the signs were there all year, that they all saw it coming. On second thought, what am I saying?

Latrell Sprewell will return to basketball. Not since Larry Johnson retired will there have been a more underwhelming news item.

Kobe Bryant will fake cry during a taped half-time interview segment.

Amare Stoudamire will return from injury just in time for the playoffs, and the Suns will get swept in the first round. Not since I lost my virginity will so much built-up anticipation end so quickly and so messily.

Back to Back Rhymin'

What's the biggest story of the NBA season thus far?
That’s a given. Kobe... hell, anyone dropping 81 is just beyond comprehension. You mention that all he needs to do now is sleep with 20,000 women. Why stop there? Let’s send him to Iraq to kill 20,000 militants.

When the whole rape thing happened, a part of me, a dark disturbed part, secretly hoped that Kobe would go to jail. That’d he’d get 8-10 years and be out in 4. Whilst he was in the pokey, LBJ and Darko (!) would own the league. In the meantime, Kobe pulls a Max Cady. Can you imagine? An angry 30 year old, tattooed, ripped, and balding Kobe Bean Bryant getting out of prison? Now that’s drama.

I’d imagine him going for 60 against the LBJ Knicks, running into the stands, plunging his hand into David Stern’s chest, ripping his heart out and showing it to him before he died. But that’s a fiction. We all know that the Commish is made of steel and has no heart.

Speaking of which, did Charles E. Smith ever get out of Prison?

Back to the 81 game. People will invariably lament that Kobe is just “a scorer”, but to do so is shortsighted. Just how much of an accomplishment is 81 points? I was thinking back to great “one dimensional” scorers of times long gone and I thought of Dominique Wilkins. Now, ‘Nique was your prototypical scorer. A joy to watch, but widely criticized for being only that – a scorer.

Did Wilkins ever come close to doing what Bean did? Not by a long shot. So, let’s take it a step further. Nique’s defining game was arguably in 1988 in the infamous Boston Shootout with Bird. All time game. Wilkins was off the hook and Bird goes for 20 in the fourth. Epic performances from both players, but let’s look at the stats:

Wilkins 47. Bird 34.

81 points, total. Think about it.

What's the most interesting?
It’s been an odd season, but if you’ll excuse my personal bias, it has to be the sheer and utter clusterfuck that is the New York Knickerbockers. A few years ago, I recall thinking that “Layden sure is a fuck up, but that this has to end sooner or later. Just be patient”. I can’t believe it’s 2006. Not only is it 2006, but there is NO END IN SIGHT. Not only is there no end in sight, but Zeke still has a job? Only in America.

Having read Chris Sheridan’s dissection of the Curry Trade, I officially want to kill someone – Bean style. If the Knicks were a corporation or a business, would this be allowed to happen? Wouldn’t someone launch a hostile takeover? Wouldn’t a government organisation look into what was happening and administer some god damned justice? Where’s Trump? Doesn’t he have a group of mercenaries? It just makes me angry. If Isiah is still around by the time Brooklyn gets the Nets, I’m jumping ship.

And who do you have picked as MVP?
Kobe is the best in the game. Bar none. Is he the MVP? No... at least, not yet. Bottom line is that the Lakes are barely over .500 and not even the best LA team in their division. As much as it pains me to admit it, it has to be Nash. The fact that the Solars can lose Amare and still maintain their pace is a testament to his value as a player. It’s a tough situation, because the Stones are the MVT. Everyone else pales in comparison at this stage.

That said, if Kobe averages 50 a game for the next few months and the Lakes take the div, I’ll change my vote. That negro is crazy.

Star 81

I watched the double OT Suns/Sonics game today. It was an instant classic in my opinion, the NBA equivalent of Rocky Balboa and Apollo Creed going blow for blow (and, like Balboa/Creed, neither defended much). Ray Allen was amazing, the definition of clutch. So were Steve Nash and Shawn Marion; there just wasn't enough time on the clock. Seriously, the Suns didn't really lose that game. The Sonics won, but it could have gone either way.

But that's not the most amazing thing that happened today in the NBA. Not by far.

Kobe Bryant scored 81 points in a single game.

Now, I despise Bryant as a person, but I won't take any shots at him, at least for the rest of the day. He deserves some respect for this stunning achievement.

81 points.

As any serious basketball fan knows, the only player to ever score more points in a single game was Wilt Chamberlain.

I wonder if Kobe's next goal is to sleep with over 20,000 women.

(sorry, that one was too good to pass up)

81 points!!!

The most Jordan ever scored was 69. Scoring like Bryant did today truly is like catching lightning in a bottle.

Just think, he was 20 points away from actually beating Wilt's record. And if you don't think he's going to make a serious push for 101, you're wrong. Kobe heard all the naysayers dissing him for opting out of the 3rd quarter in that 62-point game he had against Dallas last month. He was just itching for a chance to right that wrong. Now that he's scored 81 (81 fucking points!!!), some people in the press are invariably going to start wondering aloud (or in print) about whether Kob has a chance to break 100.

But even if he doesn't (I say he'll try, but there's a big difference between trying and doing), his game today will be remembered forever. Too bad the team he played today was my hometown team, the Toronto Raptors. Still, I ain't mad. As I wrote last week, when something great happens in this sport, I admire it. Tomorrow I'll probably go back to hating Bryant again -- and part of me is bitter that it was Bryant, and not, say, Allen Iverson, who busted 81 -- but the man deserves his props.

Good job, Kobe Bryant. Congratulations.

PS - as I wrote in this post last month, I knew it was going to happen this season: http://psychedelickimchi.blogspot.com/2006/01/buggin-out-73.html

[pats self on back like Barry Horowitz]

PPS - If I find out ESPN, Sports Illustrated, or some other publication has stolen my headline, I'm calling my lawyer.