The NBA…it’s Smack-tastic
Y’know, I go away for a weekend, try to get some family time in, help somebody move…and come back to find that I missed one of the greatest sports brawls of all time. WTF!!! You know I love this shit! Why’s it gotta happen the weekend I’m away, huh?
I’m sure you’ve seen the pictures in the paper and the video on Sportscenter and heard Commissioner David Stern’s press conference on the radio and all that. Stern levied some heavy suspensions on Indiana’s unholy troika of troublemakers. Ron Artest, who started the entire ordeal when he, clearly fearing for his life after being assaulted with a cup of ice, charged into the stands to confront (read: knock the fuck out) the thrower of said cup. Nevermind the fact that the poor preppy dude he focused on was NOT it turns out the actual perpetrator; what kind of temperament can make a grown man go from zero to sixty like Artest did? I mean, regardless of how the foul and shoving with Ben Wallace went down, Artest, it appeared, had done the right thing: pulled back, not reengaged, taken a seat (albeit on the scorer’s table, practically taunting the opposing fans at the end of an ugly blowout) to cool off. That’s why it was so surprising when, after the offending receptacle reached its supposed target, Artest took off over the table and row upon row of seats like he was shot from rifle. Artest will rightly be suspended for the remainder of the season.
Ragin’ Ron’s partners in crime got off a little easier, but still felt the sting of Stern’s judgment: Stephen Jackson was suspended for thirty games for joining Artest in the crowd not with the purpose of breaking up the fight (“peacemakers”, as those that tried to stop the melee were referred to, received light if any suspensions and minimal fines) but of coordinating his attack on the Detroit fan with Artest. Personally, I find Jackson’s response almost as despicable as Artest’s actions since Jackson was not even assaulted at first and instead of trying to diffuse a situation raging between one player and one fan escalated the entire event to near-riot level.
Artest and Jackson’s teammate (and NOOBIA founding member) Jermaine O’Neal was given twenty-five games for attacking a fan that Artest had already sucker punched. This one really got me because this guy (I’m sure you saw him on TV: mebbe 5’8, 230, Pistons jersey, shit stained pants) looked like he wanted an autograph more than a rumble. He and Artest kinda faced each other up, the dude juked one way like he wanted to get around Artest, then Ragin’ Ron just unloaded a haymaker on the guy that dropped him to the ground. But just in case, here comes O’Neal (6’11, 242, Pacers jersey, corn rows) tackling the guy and punching him square in the face. A coupla times. The guy never even threw a punch!
This was the point (before I saw the replay of the scared-as-shit guy in the black shirt being charged by Artest) where I knew that something was profoundly wrong with these players. I hesitate to even call them that anymore. To call Artest and O’Neal and Jackson players is to sully the name of Cousy and Havilchek and Magic and Michael, sportsmen who were able to keep their emotions in check and let it out on the court. These guys are downright thugs, disgraces to the game of basketball and to organized sport in general and they got what was coming to them. There have been troublemakers in the league, but none has ever stepped out of bounds like these punks.
At least Latrell went after his coach (stop right there, P.J…you CAN’T tell me you didn’t see it coming). Rasheed went after refs. Rodman went after cameramen. Up to this point, these guys were the lowest of the low, the guys you pointed out to your kids and said, “This is not the way the game is played”. Now, Latrell and Rasheed and Rodman are creampuffs compared to the Punchin’ Pacers of ‘04.
I for one hope Ron Artest uses his newly found free time wisely, perhaps enrolling in an anger management class…that is, when he’s not too busy promoting his new CD.
I’m sure you’ve seen the pictures in the paper and the video on Sportscenter and heard Commissioner David Stern’s press conference on the radio and all that. Stern levied some heavy suspensions on Indiana’s unholy troika of troublemakers. Ron Artest, who started the entire ordeal when he, clearly fearing for his life after being assaulted with a cup of ice, charged into the stands to confront (read: knock the fuck out) the thrower of said cup. Nevermind the fact that the poor preppy dude he focused on was NOT it turns out the actual perpetrator; what kind of temperament can make a grown man go from zero to sixty like Artest did? I mean, regardless of how the foul and shoving with Ben Wallace went down, Artest, it appeared, had done the right thing: pulled back, not reengaged, taken a seat (albeit on the scorer’s table, practically taunting the opposing fans at the end of an ugly blowout) to cool off. That’s why it was so surprising when, after the offending receptacle reached its supposed target, Artest took off over the table and row upon row of seats like he was shot from rifle. Artest will rightly be suspended for the remainder of the season.
Ragin’ Ron’s partners in crime got off a little easier, but still felt the sting of Stern’s judgment: Stephen Jackson was suspended for thirty games for joining Artest in the crowd not with the purpose of breaking up the fight (“peacemakers”, as those that tried to stop the melee were referred to, received light if any suspensions and minimal fines) but of coordinating his attack on the Detroit fan with Artest. Personally, I find Jackson’s response almost as despicable as Artest’s actions since Jackson was not even assaulted at first and instead of trying to diffuse a situation raging between one player and one fan escalated the entire event to near-riot level.
Artest and Jackson’s teammate (and NOOBIA founding member) Jermaine O’Neal was given twenty-five games for attacking a fan that Artest had already sucker punched. This one really got me because this guy (I’m sure you saw him on TV: mebbe 5’8, 230, Pistons jersey, shit stained pants) looked like he wanted an autograph more than a rumble. He and Artest kinda faced each other up, the dude juked one way like he wanted to get around Artest, then Ragin’ Ron just unloaded a haymaker on the guy that dropped him to the ground. But just in case, here comes O’Neal (6’11, 242, Pacers jersey, corn rows) tackling the guy and punching him square in the face. A coupla times. The guy never even threw a punch!
This was the point (before I saw the replay of the scared-as-shit guy in the black shirt being charged by Artest) where I knew that something was profoundly wrong with these players. I hesitate to even call them that anymore. To call Artest and O’Neal and Jackson players is to sully the name of Cousy and Havilchek and Magic and Michael, sportsmen who were able to keep their emotions in check and let it out on the court. These guys are downright thugs, disgraces to the game of basketball and to organized sport in general and they got what was coming to them. There have been troublemakers in the league, but none has ever stepped out of bounds like these punks.
At least Latrell went after his coach (stop right there, P.J…you CAN’T tell me you didn’t see it coming). Rasheed went after refs. Rodman went after cameramen. Up to this point, these guys were the lowest of the low, the guys you pointed out to your kids and said, “This is not the way the game is played”. Now, Latrell and Rasheed and Rodman are creampuffs compared to the Punchin’ Pacers of ‘04.
I for one hope Ron Artest uses his newly found free time wisely, perhaps enrolling in an anger management class…that is, when he’s not too busy promoting his new CD.
posted by bd @ 11/22/2004 01:11:00 PM
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