John Kreese

"Sweep the leg! Do you have a problem with that? 'No Sensei.' "No Mercy" - John Kreese

The All Star game is coming in 3 weeks. There's been a lot of commotion about Allen Iverson AKA the Answer getting voted as a starter. You will hear a variety of reasons from his numbers are declining, he's lost a step, there are more deserving players and other similar comments. Valid points considering the man is 34 years old and has mileage on those legs. Some folks might even say "You ain't got it no mo' Answer!" And that is a wrong thing to do....

The Honest Man has been a fan of basketball for since forever. I was decent enough to play high school ball but I wasn't the jock that had the honies lining up because I had a good J. And damn sure didn't have college scouts asking my family, "Has your son ever thought about playing at (insert school)?" Like Skee-Lo, I wished I was a "little bit taller." :-). Given that, I still did my thing out there, sometimes even fucked around and got a triple double. Ha! Had to laugh at my West Coast shout outs there.

My pops played ball too. All the way up to college. He would tell me how good he was and who he played against in college. Earl Monroe for example. My grandparents and uncle would talk about how good he was in school. I even would go with him when he played rec league ball. But even with him telling me, my family telling me, and me watching him, I never went wow my Dad's a cold muthafucka. He was just Dad. Just an old dude who I loved watching sporting events and eating barbecue. But play ball. Naw he was too old to do that.

I remember one day at home, my Dad and I were watching basketball. He was asking me how my practice went. I was telling him about how I having problems dribbling without looking down. He tried to give me pointers and I'm going "Dad, what can you teach me? You're too old." He responded "I may be old but I know I can beat you." My young testosterone kicked in and I replied "You're on." Like how George Clinton told Full Force in House Party "I cried two tears in a bucket, fuck it, let's take it to the stage."

At that time, my Dad had about 3-4 inches and 40-50 lbs on me. But all I could see is a dude with grey hair. I'm so overconfident that I'm thinking about how much shit I'm gonna talk once I smoke my Dad. So anyway, he got ball first and from that point on the on-court molestation was taking place. He his first jumper. Swish. No worries, it's beginner's luck. He hit his second jumper. It's 0-2, I'm just gonna have to work harder. Another jumper. swish. Again. swish. Onions! Swish. Next thing I know it's 8-0 Pops and we're playing to 15. He finally missed, I rebound and go on a mini run of my own. Too bad when I say mini, I mean like I made it 8-4. He got the ball back, went to the top of the key, was dribbling with one hand, had his other hand waving at me to say "Come on, it's time, young Jedi." The Honest Dad showed NO MERCY, just proceeded to whup me with a variety of jumpers and pull ups. I mean the shit was all net every time. Game. Match. Dad. Son is embarrassed.

Today's Lesson

So what did the Honest Man learn from that? One that don't believe when someone is older they can't play anymore. Two humble pie tasted nasty to me that day LOL. Three, don't ever, eeevvver judge a book by its' cover.

My Dad didn't show me any mercy that day and it's all good. That's just how my mom and him were. If you talked that shit, you'd better be ready to step up cuz otherwise they taking you to school. I did eventually beat my Dad in ball and truss, I was definitely talking that shit :-)