Unfathomable Dissent: Strip Clubs Are Kind of Wack

So, not too long ago, an acquaintance of mine celebrated their birthday at a local gentleman’s club here in the city.  I had been invited to attend this celebration but I declined because… well, strip clubs are kind of wack.  In my opinion, that is.  I don’t want to knock anyone else’s recreational activity – by all means, if you enjoy the environment then keep on enjoying it.

But I have to take a stand against dudes acting as though disinterest in strip clubs is an offense worthy of Y-Chromosome removal. 

My acquaintance tells me all about his experience the following day.  The unmitigated joy that he and his guests experienced.  The dancing, the nudity, the drinking, the girls.  Oh, the girls were so nice to them all, he said.  “You should’ve gone, bro,” he said.  “You missed out.  I can’t believe you didn’t come.  Why wouldn’t you want to come out and see some girls?”

And here we cross our first misconception that some dudes have about strip clubs; that this is the best - if not only - place to go to see girls.  In truth…

…Girls Can Also Be Found Elsewhere.

Regular clubs, for instance.  And the crazy thing about a girl at a regular club is you don’t necessarily have to pay to dance with her (okay, you might have to buy the girl a drink or two, but often times you need only be charming, or good looking, or both, or just catch her on a good night).  Also, when you dance with her, you can actually dance WITH her.  Sometimes, if they really like you, they let you touch them without calling over Bruiser and Knuckles McMurphy to rough you up and throw you into the street after she already warned you about the club’s hands off policy.

Another thing about girls at the regular club, there’s a much better chance that if they’re showing interest in you, it’s genuine.  Conversely…

…Strippers Don’t Actually Like You.

If a stripper makes you think that she likes you, that just means she’s really good at her job.  Or that you’re reading way too much into a $5 lapdance.  I know the rappers make it sound like it’s routine to take strippers home, but they’re spending hundreds – possibly thousands – of dollars on the girl they want to take home.  They’re not “making it rain” singles, my man.  A pocket full of Washingtons does not a baller make.  You, Mr. Average Dude, have a infinitesimal chance at getting that girl home.  Didn’t you see Player’s Club?  She’s not interested in you, she’s on the clock.  If you ask for her number she’s going laugh it off and say, “You’re so precious,” and then move to the next dude with a twenty on the table. 

If you follow her home – and this is important - she’s going to call the police.

Don’t brag to your boys about a girl you met at a strip club.  Don’t tell stories about how nice she was, how she looked into your eyes when she danced and you could feel a connection and you could tell that she thought you were different.  It’s just sad.  Preach-saying-goodbye-to-Cochise-in-Cooley-High sad.  Tall-building-leaping, cape-wearing, super-sad.

For Example…

All of this may seem harsh, but think about this: if you told a strip club story to your friend but removed the strip club setting, that exchange would go something like this…

“Yo, fam, Jasmine invited me over to the house the other night.  As soon as I walked in, she sat me down in a chair, turned the lights down, put on some music and started dancing for me.”

“For real?”

“Yeah.  It was hot.  Next thing I know, she’s taking off her clothes, dancing on my lap.  Teasing me, telling me not to touch.  Driving me crazy.”

“Damn.  So how was she when you two finally went at it?”

“…huh?”

“When you took her to the bedroom and had sex with her.  How was the sex?”

“Oh… nah, we didn’t go that far.”

“You didn’t?  Why not?  She changed her mind or…?”

“Nah, that was never the intent.  I was just supposed to visit her, watch her dance and then leave.”

“Did you go see another girl after you left Jasmine’s?”

“No.  I just went home with the memory of her dancing in my head as inspiration to… you know… ‘take care of myself.’  You know what I mean?  Eh?  Eh?”

“First off, stop fucking winking at me.  Secondly, what?”

“Trust me, seeing her dance was twenty dollars well spent.”

“Twenty dollars just to see her dance?  Don’t you have Cinemax?  The internet?  There are more cost effective ways to see naked women.”

“Not in person.”

“Does it really matter that it’s ‘in person’ if you can’t touch or do anything with her?  She might as well be a hologram.”

“It matters, all right?  It matters.  What kind of guy doesn’t think seeing naked girls in person is cool, and completely worth it even if you have to pay for it?  What did you end up doing last night anyway?”

“I spent it with my girlfriend.  Having sex.  A lot.  We went to Blockbuster and rented a movie, and then after we got home we stopped watching the movie about halfway through and just started doing it all over the place.  Completely wiped ourselves out.  I had to call in to work today.  That’s how my night went.”

“Well, that’s an okay night.  I guess.  She didn’t dance for you though…”

“… … Man, get the hell out of my house.”

In Conclusion

Strip clubs just aren’t that cool.  Sure, there are exceptions – I’m sure there are awesome, posh joints out there where millionaires congregate to close deals and pick up dates, but for the average dude that you and I know, it’s really nothing special.  If it’s your thing, that’s cool, but don’t talk about it like it was a trip to Vegas or Disney World or the Super Bowl or something. 

If your boy isn’t a fan of the strip club scene it doesn’t mean that he’s gay (NTTAWWT) or less of a man.  He probably just thinks strip clubs are kind of wack.

And you know what… he’s right…

The NBA: Where Conspiracy Theories Happen

The hot topic in the sports after last night’s Game 5 of the NBA Western Conference Finals is whether or not a foul should have been called on Derek Fisher on the last play of the game when he clearly bumped into Brent “I Still Owe You That Dunk Contest Trophy, Mr. Finley” Barry.  People are citing the classic conspiracy theories already: “Stern wants the Lakers in the Finals, they’re a big market team, they have the league’s top superstar, Lakers vs. Celtics will draw huge ratings, etc.”

I am compelled to weigh in.

An admitted Laker fan, my defense of what happened last night may, on the surface, appear to be blatant homerism.  But I’m a basketball fan first.  You want to see egregiously partial officiating: 2002 Western Conference Finals, the Lakers vs. the Kings.  I was watching at a bar with a co-worker who was a Kings fan and I felt obligated to buy him drinks all night to amend for the hideous calls going in favor of my Lakers that game.  It was awful.

The very next year, LA played a Game 3 in the first round against the T-wolves that we should’ve graciously forfeited had we somehow won due to the referee’s wearing purple and gold all night.

Last night, however, was different.  Do not add this one to your manilla Conspiracy Evidence folder my friend.  This was simply a case of bad officiating on all fronts cancelling itself out.

Regarding the “questionable” non-call, my determination is, yes, it probably should have been a two-shot foul (I may grudgingly concede a foul call on the final play of a crucial playoff game with the ball 30-damn-feet from the basket, but there’s no way I’m conceding continuation), but it’s a play that never should have happened in the first place.

As many others have already blogged about before me, Derek Fisher’s jumper on the Lakers’ final posession did get rim.  Grazed, yes, but it hit.  The refs blew that call, creating the threat of a shot clock violation on the ensuing inbounds play, forcing Kobe to jack a shot up when he should have been able and catch the ball and hold it until the inevitable foul.  He goes to the line, hits his free throws (if we’re presuming Barry would hit his and force overtime, then we should also presume Kobe would hit his to put the game away) and that last, controversial play never happens.

Additionally, before the Lakers’ last possession, Tony Parker was beneficiary of a blown goaltending call on Lamar Odom, who cleanly pinned his layup to the backboard.  If Tony isn’t awarded the bucket, LA takes the ball to the other end of the court in a situation where the Spurs are forced to put them on the foul line, where they likely seal the victory.

The Spurs, as an organization, have handled this controversy with their usual class.  Pop said that he wouldn’t have made the call.  Barry didn’t complain about it.  The only people complaining are fans, many of whom aren’t even Spurs fans, just Laker haters.

Fact is, you can’t argue this call without mentioning the above-mentioned blown calls that put the Spurs in that position.  The Spurs know this themselves, which is probably a contributing factor in their refusal to blame their loss on that call.

It’s a non-play.  A phantom.  Stop comparing it to Ginobli’s foul of Nowitzki from Game 7 in the ‘05 semis.  It’s not the same situation (for one, as people are so quick to forget, that wasn’t the last play of the game, or even the quarter: the Spurs had 20 more seconds in regulation, and secondly, the Mavs hadn’t just been given the opportunity courtesy of blown calls against San Antonio). 

UPDATE:

If there is a situation to compare it to, it would be this…

Back to last night, had the call been made and the Spurs gone on to win, people would be rightfully complaining about Fisher’s shot and Odom’s block. 

And stop saying “two wrongs don’t make a right.”  It’s a stupid phrase, it’s never made sense, and even if it did it wouldn’t apply to this situation.

In the end, it all balanced out, and the team that was supposed to win won the damn game.

THE. END.

Quick-Rant: Stop Asking if I Play Basketball…

I used to give people benefit of the doubt, but I have now reached the undeniable conclusion that asking some random tall person if they play basketball is almost always a stupid question.  Here is a short list of times when it’s okay to ask a tall dude if he plays basketball:

1. He’s an acquaintance (co-worker, friend of a friend, etc.) and you’re in a position where you’re trying to start a conversation any way you can just to break the awkward silence.

2. He’s an acquaintance and you want to recruit him for you city-league team, The Central Bank Swishers (he might agree, but you better believe he’ll demand you change the name).

3. He’s 6′8″ or taller and looks athletic and you have a good reason for asking (your kid’s with you and you want to get an autograph if the guy’s a pro, or your kid’s with you and you want to make the guy take a paternity test if he’s a pro).

4. He’s wearing a shirt that says “Ask Me If I Play Basketball” printed on the front, and “No, Seriously, Ask Me If I Play Basketball.  I’m Talking to You.  Don’t You Walk Away From Me Motherf– Man I Will Hunt You Down and Beat The Question Out of You If You Don’t Get Back Over Here and Ask Me if I Play Basketball,” printed on the back.

That’s it.  Under no other circumstances is it okay to ask this question of someone you barely know / don’t know at all.  None.  It’s a stupid, stupid question on multiple levels.  Allow me to assault you with the breakdown of why it’s really so stupid…

I’m Not That Damn Tall 

I’m 6′4″.  Yes, that’s tall in the real world, but not freakish-NBA-talent tall.  Tony Parker is officially listed at 6′2″, and he might be a bit taller.  I walked past him in North Star Mall once (he had his whole French crew with him, parlez-vous-ing francais and eating bon-bons and all that good stuff) and dude was eye-to-eye with me. 

In the Association, Tony is considered a “small” dude.  When you see him on TV you think “Look at that little French, flopping punk. I’d bodyslam him if I ever saw him.”  Then you see him in real life and realize he’s about five inches taller than you, and he’s built pretty solid from working out all damn year (because…you know… he’s a professional athlete) and truth told, if you two got in a fight, he would probably chest-kick you into the nearest bottomless pit right after yelling, “This.  Is.  PARKER!!!”

Recap: 6′2″ – 6′5″ is tall in the real world, but not especially tall in the pro-ball world.

At 6′6″ and up, you start getting into heights that are a little more common in the pro-ball world, but even then… Oh, you’re not asking if I’m a pro?  Just if I play?  Well that leads to…

Why the Hell Are You Asking Anyway?

The only reason to ask is if you’re curious to know if the dude’s a pro, or at least a player for a major local college (and the latter only applies if you’re curious to know if the dude might go pro, or if you thought you recognized him from an ESPN clip you caught the other day). 

Asking for any other reason makes even less sense than randomly asking any person 6′3″ and above if they just happen to be a professional, millionaire, celebrity athlete.  What, you’re asking if I play ball recreationally at gyms, or at parks, or with friends and family on the adjustable, portable goal at the end of the cul-de-sac?  The answer is yes, but there’s not really a height requirement for any of that.  There’s no “You Must Be This Tall to Hoop On This Court” when you step into Gold’s.  Where’s this conversation going?  Is there a point?

I’ve Heard it A Million Times

Some stuff, it’s probably cool to get asked all the time.  If you’re really good-looking and people stay asking, “Do you model?” I’m sure it doesn’t get old.

But the “Do you play basketball?” question has been old to me and any other tall person since high school, but people ask you this like it’s something they’re sure no one else has ever brought up to you.  Like they’re presenting you with career advice.

“So uh, do you play basketball?”

“No, actually, I don’t.”

“Really?  Well, you should.”

“You think so?”

“Hell yeah, man!  You’re a tall guy!  And… you’re… well, you’re tall!  I mean come on!“

“You’re right!  I am tall!  I’m gonna go buy some Nike Air Maxes and try out for the Lakers!  Thanks, total stranger!”

No.  No.  Go to hell, total stranger.  Burn forever in the pits of the inferno, total stranger. 

Fuck, off, total stranger.

Loving This FANtastic Game Again (or…How the NBA is Coming Back)

Tuesday night’s absolutely dreadful game between the Cavs and Celtics notwithstanding, the Eastern Conference has provided surprisingly competitive and entertaining action in this year’s playoffs. Recapping round 1: The Sixers showed up and actually made Detroit earn the series; Atlanta stunned Boston by forcing a 7th game and gave everyone reason to believe that the young, athletic Hawks could be a factor in the East next year; Orlando’s Dwight Howard showed why he’ll likely be the league’s best big man for years to come (with Chris Bosh putting in his own great performances for Toronto, which make me say “Not so fast my friend” to myself for wanting to enthrone Howard already). And Cavs vs. Wizards, hell, what didn’t it have? Nail-biters, buzzer-beaters, hard fouls, trash talking, bad blood, rapper feuds, Jay-Z freestyle disses, ninjas (Game 5, around the halfway point in the third quarter, go back and watch the tapes if you think I’m making it up).

There was a reason to watch every series. It was great.

The Western Conference, meanwhile, gave us a Lakers sweep (not that I’m complaining), a 1st round Houston departure that was predetermined (the whole “better without Yao” argument was always ridiculous), Dallas reaffirming everyone’s beliefs that they’ve stopped caring about the postseason since getting jobbed in the ‘06 Finals, and the disappointing Spurs vs. Suns series where, after a classic Game 1, we saw the basketball gods declare “Thou shalt not even sniff the reaping of any rewards for a foolish trade,” and cripple Phoenix’s ability to compete. Shaq was supposed to get them over the hump, and instead he just gave us a series where he frequently looked slow and uninspired and more like a liability than an asset (while I’m here, I know people called Hack-a-Shaq bush league and took Coach Pop to task for it, but fuck that, if Shaq could hit even 60% of his free throws nobody would do that shit to him. I’m a Laker fan, I’ll always have love for Shaq, but he brings that on himself).

Still, I can forgive this of the West because we know their Conference Final is going to be a hell of a series to watch (provided it doesn’t somehow end up as Spurs vs. Jazz) and they’re the main reason why we just had the best NBA regular season since the FANtastic 80’s / early 90’s.

Yes. The Association is back. Or at least it’s on its way. We’ve still got the threat of “Spurs vs. Pistons II: The Revenge” potentially coming to a TV screen near us to contend with (ok, bit of a cheap shot there; Jazz vs. Pistons would be a much, MUCH worse series). But we’ve also got the potential for Lakers vs. Celtics, which David Stern is either A) fervently praying for, and perhaps even offering human sacrifices to any available deities to ensure, or B) actively ensuring will take place by vowing to disappear any refs who don’t do everything in their power to make sure it happens.

Stern needed this great NBA season more than anyone, and now he needs a fun, furious postseason. Finally, the association needs fans to pay attention to the players again, to distract from the fiascoes happening off the court. The season kicked off with the revelation of an NBA ref letting mob debts influence his calls, gave us more of the ongoing “Isiah Thomas destroys all that he touches” saga in New York throughout the year, and is wrapping up with Stern letting a greedy ass businessman steal basketball from the city of Seattle. (In one year we have great evidence that the whole “Stern controls the universe” conspiracy isn’t valid, because there’s no way he wouldn’t have orchestrated Isiah’s departure from New York sooner if it was, and great evidence that the conspiracy is valid, because why else would he stubbornly support Clay Bennet, despite the man’s blatant disengenousness regarding keeping the Sonics in Seattle, if it wasn’t for the fact that Bennet’s his buddy? Oh David, you sure know how to keep us guessing!)

So how did this happen? We’re just a few years removed from Ron Artest ignominously stealing the spotlight for beating up a fan who looked like the “They’re eating her,” kid from Troll 2…

League viewership was at a low. People blamed the decline on the thuggish, hip-hop look and unlikable character and irreversible blackness of the players. Larry Bird came out & said what everyone was thinking, that white fans weren’t watching due to the pronounced lack of white American superstars. So the league implemented a dress code so players could only sport their tattoos on the court & would have to stop rocking do-rags during interviews, and they made leaving the bench during a fight a capital offense, even if it’s just to try to keep the peace or check on a teammate, (meanwhile in baseball if you stayed in the dugout during a brawl analysts would rip you to shreds on-air) and begged players to stop makign terrible hip hop albums for the love of God, and considered every imaginable, ultimately pointless cosmetic change. Nothing worked.

So what changed this year? Why are ratings back up after being in a free fall since the end of the Bulls dynasty? Well what the hell made it FANtastic in the 1st place?

Super-Teams that were overloaded with productive talent, and Offense. They’ve made a comeback and brought the fans with them.

The NBA in the 90’s stayed afloat because of Michael Jordan and the Chicago Bulls. If not for the most popular American athlete since Babe Ruth the ratings would’ve been declining since about ‘91 as opposed to ‘98. Prior to Jordan there was the famous arrival of league saviors Magic Johnson and Larry Bird. But what really made the game fun to watch wasn’t just the individual stars, it was the fact that these stars could hit shots, score points and helped turn their teammates into stars (and in rare cases Hall of Famers). The Celtics in the 80’s were considered a “blue collar” team but they could put a century up on the scoreboard easily.

In the 90’s, coaches started adopting that whole “Defense wins championships” theory with a tad too much zeal, thanks to Pat Riley’s “We can’t keep up with the Bulls offensively, so lets try to bully them into a slow, brutal defeat” Knicks. The same Pat Riley who helped Magic unleash “Showtime” in LA for close to a decade completely changed the game for the worse when he moved to New York.

Things like ball movement and moving without the basketball and working for the best shot possible became obsolete. Sure, defense is crucial, but basketball is different from football and baseball. Anyone who’s played at any serious level or actually watched and studied the game with serious interest knows that there’s only so much defense can do. Good ball movement and making the extra pass will always thwart good defensive rotation. It can’t be helped. A great pump fake and footwork can confound even great defenders. Think I’m lying? Here’s a videoof Hall of Famer, world-class athlete and 8-time All Defensive Team selection David Robinson that everyone in my city would love to pretend was a work of fiction.

Everybody’s who has watched a fair amount of games has seen a moment or dozens or hundreds where a guy played textbook defense and still got a jumpshot buried in his mouth. Seriously, look up the list of NBA players who’ve scored 50 points in a single game, and yes you’ll see the expected names–Chamberlain, Bryant, Barry, Jordan, Jabbar–but you’ll also find Dana Barros, Cedric Ceballos, Shareef Abdur-Rahim and Tracy Murray.

Tracy…Murray.

That’s basketball, though. A guy can get hot and there’s not a hell of a lot you can do about it. The rules of the game–particularly the pro game–are inherently designed to benefit the offense and force a faster tempo. But it only really works if you play as a team and if the coaches show confidence in their team’s ability to score.

This year saw it come together after years of selfish play (facilitated by exorbitant contracts handed to unproven players) and lousy coaching crippled the league. That terrible game the Celts & Cavs played the other night–it’s an abberation worthy of its own article now. Had it been played in 1999, nobody would’ve noticed (I don’t care that it was a strike shortened season, that doesn’t excuse guys from hitting shots). It’s not too far off from Game 7 of the ‘05 Finals.

A score of 148-114 was the 1985 version of an embarrassing blowout in the NBA Finals, while the 1998 version is 96-54. And people wonder, really, why fans started tuning out when Jordan left? Nobody tunes in to the NBA to watch a lot of lockdown defense and bad shooting. People don’t even like defensive struggles in football, where it’s more common and there’s at least a chance of seeing a big hit to excite you. Why would the masses tune in to see basketball games where you know nobody’s going to even flirt with scoring 100?

Things are getting better now though. We’re still a long way from seeing a return to the glory days, but it’s getting there. It’s getting out of its own way and it’s seeing the light. There is young talent making a name for itself in the playoffs, teams are actually playing team ball and not standing around watching one guy go for his every time down the court, veterans are proving that they aren’t quite beyond their prime yet, and then you’ve got other talented guys who are sitting at home right now waiting to prove themselves next year.

Yes, the NBA – on the court at least, if not in the back offices – is climbing out of the dark and giving us a reason to love this game again.

We missed you fam. Welcome back.