jrodmc wrote:Nalod wrote:I love these posts! "Its a cold morning and Woodson makes a fire in the hearth so the boys wake up warm. He mends their socks and starts to cook a hot breakfast before he even makes his coffee. He loves these boys, hardend by the circumstances of the NBA they come orphanded. One determined his fate while the other had to play in China.
Soon the sun will come up. The 5 feet of snow that fell over nite will make hunting for that nites dinner more tough, but Woodsone beard is black and it will melt the snow around him. He will teach the young men to read and write as well as provide for themselves. They will learn to be accountable, hire accountants and how to deal with the media.
The snow seems to stop as the sun comes up. Melo and JR wake up with smiles on their faces to the challanges of a new day. The smell of fresh coffee, bacon, pan cakes, fresh fruit, smoke salmon, Candadian bacon, freach toast with Maple syrup collected by the wise coach make for great incentive for the young men to eat. They will ask him questions about life, what it was like to play for Red HOlzman and tales of Bobby Knight!
Then the young men will play video games while woodson cleans the dishes, puts away the food, starts cooking lunch but first must iron their freshly washed sheets. Perhaps later they will have a shoot around and practice but for now they lounge in turkish robes the father figure gave them for christmas.
Woodson is not just a coach to them, he is father figure if sorts, a mystical man they call "ritz carleton" for he treats them so nice! The three of them bond as one. No room for Linsanity here, just a wise man with a dark past and an even darker beard!
George Karl never cooked them breakfast!"
See, one must understand the difference between a father and a mother figure. This is an understandable issue coming from non-closet N*yets fans."It's a dark, cold morning. Dantoni has mailed in his resignation on the side of a used tampon. Melo grimaces at Dolan, shakes his head and trots off to pre-dawn morning shootaround. Things have been different under Papa Woodson. Different and tough. Woody's already in the gym, running suicides since 3AM. He ensures the two troubled lads notice the blood oozing from his kicks. JR's eyes widen slightly, but not too much. 'Uh, coach, sir, you want me to mop some of that shi--...uh... stuff off the court before we start drills?' Woody grunts in the direction of the floor mop, JR runs and cleans. Melo is stretching, while Yoda the shooting coach has him envisioning infintesimal improvements to his release. The wizened coach flips some switches and the court suddenly tilts upwards from the center, forming a huge 'V', like vagina. 'Start running boys'. They run drills outwards, uphill both ways. This is not the way things used to be, but this man used to wear the jersey. He's not some ABA shlep or just another member of the coaches boys club. He's got credibility. He's a man who is exactly where's he supposed to be, at exactly the right time. He will teach these young men the meaning of fear. He will teach them that it is possible to have a coach who could quite possibly take a Louisville to your skull, cut your dick off while you're unconscious, and feed it to his dog. For missing a defensive switch assignment.
'You don't shoot with your johnson, boys, please remember that'.
Meanwhile, Ray Ray's strapped to a chair with his head clamped in the direction of an 85" flat screen that keeps playing every second of Linsanity over and over again in painfully slow motion. Felton strains to free himself and ultimately ends up working out harder than the two ex-sons of Nuggetland currently being abused on the inverted torture court. The Woodsman rasps loudly in Ray's ear about how he'll never truly measure up. He reads verbatim from the UK site about how Lin is making Dolan regret his own stupidity. Felton lets out a primal roar, which gets Melo and JR moving even faster through their drills.
Tyson and GranpaSheed enter the scene and nod approvingly to the darkly bearded one. They both move over to a normal court and run simultaneous PnR's with Kidd and Prigs. Woods barks out incessantly about how JKidd's a has been and Prigs is a useless immigrant who shouldn't even be in the league.
Cope is busy getting his fingers taped and posing in the locker room with one of BK's old practice jerseys on. Woody walks by and drops a one way ticket to Turkey on the floor in front of him. Cope reacts as if struck with a taser and immediately starts hitting jumpers from the tunnel while three assistant coaches take turns punching and undercutting him.
Ronnie B is busy trying not to get electrocuted too badly as he's been matched up against a Kobe/Lebron/Durant hologram and every time the apparation scores, Woodson gives him a few hundred volts.
Throughout all of this, there's some black and white garbed figures outside, pressing there noses to the glass. Deron starts to cry, while mumbling softly '...I never knew my father..." JJ and Gerald just hang their heads. Bropez breathes on the cold glass and draws a smiley face on the fogged window...he grins and points at the picture he just made, and just before the other three move to pummel him to death, the new, tiny security guard slams open a side door and shoos them away.
'Aye told you boys to get the hell away from here yesterday. Now scat!' His badge reads: A.Johnson.
Woodson smiles at his own joke.
I always enjoy your posts but this one had me laughing out loud.
