Tag Archives: Air Force One

#54: Going to court

Don’t get it twisted, ghetto people HATE going to court just as much as anyone does. But after a while, it’s like a complete 360 (no, I don’t mean 180!) is done on the whole saga and one hates it so much you may as well like it, if that makes any sense. You learn how to deal with it. Getting enough tickets or catching enough cases, you just form a routine.

You stop going alone. You start bringing the iPod or Zune to kill time (like this author did, the bwoy was bumpin’). You clear the schedule that morning. And you just kinda free your dome, loosen up, and go there ready for anything. Once upon a time, this author purposely left the whip at home and caught the bus downtown in a throwaway striped hoodie, jeans, and some clapped out Air Force Ones (no they weren’t all-white lows!) because what’s the point of being dipped (and I was still dressed better than the average person who goes) if a) one is doing some grimy *ss hoofin’ it and b) you just might not come home when you’re done in front of the judge?

This author has known dudes who were HAPPY to go to the pen! When asked why, it was because things were settled and the stressful court process was over. When cats are happy to go do their bid in West Bubblef*ck with a bunch of killers sorted out by race and towers of guards with rifles trained on them who will shoot the inmates with bullets they themselves have to pay for (paying to get shot, ain’t that about a b*tch?), that is really telling about court.

And even traffic court has its problems, because the lines are the kind people going to claim GR don’t even want a part of. All kinds of transient degenerates who wear Skechers are in the mix with people mad they get to take a break and trade gridlock on the commute for the gridlock between sheriff’s deputies. All for the pleasure of watching the clerks close windows just to f*ck with everyone waiting in that 1000-deep line to get that extension for that quota ticket they just got over the holidays (and can’t get it out the way, because it’s not in the system yet, which the clerk who’s lucky to have a job is more than happy to let you know with her stank attitude).

May as well blaze or sip on something before going. Need something to make you feel good while waiting with everyone else to get on those funky *ss elevators on the way to the next “here goes nothing” moment.

The NBA on TNT

Author’s note: OK, it’s high time this was posted, even though you the reader won’t be able to see what all is described here until November thanks to this author’s CP-timey procrastination on pulling the trigger (and your boy Lebron tanking to Orlando).
Regular NBA watchers should be well aware of this already, especially those who grew up in the hood…because TNT’s NBA broadcasts have a streak of ghetto to them you couldn’t possibly overlook. Only the NBA on BET could bring it more ghetto if they existed, but they probably wouldn’t execute it as well.

Think of your uncles or the homies talking hoops over some O.E.
or Hennessy, with all the knee-slappin’ shuckin’ and jivin’ you’d see in a barbershop. Charles Barkley (whose magic could be the subject of a SGPL post all by himself) basically serves to deliver the greasy *sshole lines like any good ghetto dozens player with capability to make any one in the crew look or feel stupid at any given moment…and EJ, Kenny, and whoever might be the optional fourth guy at the desk has well-timed responses to keep the wheel turning.

Though these TV channels all force their male talent to wear blazers/suits on camera, these guys have no problem wearing Air Force Ones, a ghetto favorite, on the set (not often visible behind the desk of course).

And while the actual calling of the games keeps it corporate by comparison, sideline reporter Craig Sager rocks getups that Steve Harvey, Cedric the Entertainer, and Bishop Magic Don Juan would envy.

But the feature segments and other bits of their coverage are comedy gold:
-Barkley’s face super-imposed on all kinds of photos and videos (usually on fat bodies or the ridiculous halftime performers)
-Players’ faces super-imposed on random fishing photos (along with people known to be from the city of the eliminated franchise)
-And I know someone out there remembers “Who He Play For?”


From pre-game to post-game, the gang on TNT show excellent chemistry throughout, break down basketball beautifully, and have fun. The ESPN/ABC studio teams only wish they were this fun to watch. Maybe if Stuart Scott was his 1996 self…