Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Draft #50
I really hate admitting this, not sure I should even be mentioning it, but I watched the second half of the Duke/North Carolina basketball game on Sunday. Did I mention it was the women's basketball game? (Pausing, to dodge the imaginary trash being thrown at me for having performed such a heinous act) Yeah, but it was the number one ranked team in the nation playing against the number two ranked team in the nation (Yes, but you were watching women's basketball). I know, I know (head slumped down in shame). I was tuning in for one reason and one reason only, and here she is.
Her name is Abby Waner, she is a 5'10'' freshman guard from the lovely state of Colorado and I have a crush on her. She is very pretty, I mean look at her, tell me that ain't pretty. You should see her with her hair up as she is bombing three's from beyond the arc, a sight to behold my friend, a sight to behold. Could you imagine sitting in her dorm room, kind of bored, throwing around options for things to do when she asks, "Do you want to shoot buckets with me at Cameron Indoor Stadium?" To which my reply would be, "Hell yes, let's go!" We would play around the arc (best out of ten shots wins), play a little horse, and then we'd run a few lines and finish the night off with fifty shots from the line because I don't want her embarrassing me by missing any clutch free throws in future games that I may be in attendance for. We'll save any one-on-one action for back at the dorm, hey-ohhhhhh! On the way back to the dorm Abby would compliment me on my silky smooth jump shot and I would say, "I don't want to brag, but I played a little ball in high school and lets just say you're not the first lady to point how smooth my stroke is." Abby, "Yeah, well you've probably had a lot of practice." Me, "Touche'." Then we high five each other, have an ice cream cone, and make out something fierce, she'll be all like "Slow down, I don't think I'm ready for that." And I'll be like, "Sure you are." And she'll be like, "No means no!" And I'll say, "But wasn't it Michael Jackson that said we should not stop till we get enough, and I ain't got enough yet, baby." We would share a hearty laugh and I would remain a virgin throughout the remainder of our relationship. Once her WNBA career is off and running, she will eventually realize that she is a lesbian and I will be tossed to the curb for a power forward named Betty. And I will be ruined, absolutely ruined. Thanks a lot Abby, thanks for nothing. Damn she's cute though.
And then there's this girl, Ivory Latta. Watching her play basketball was as if someone let a starving dog out of its cage and promised her a juicy T-bone if she were to bring North Carolina the victory. Look at that picture, you can almost see her eyes staring down the steak that someone is waving behind the photographer. As soon as this photo was snapped, she probably licked her chops and charged the photographer, tackling him and grabbing the steak from the other guy in one foul swoop. She then probably retrived to the nearest corner to devour the steak in a catcher's crouch with both hands, elbows extended, keeping that crazy look in her eye, as if to say, this is my steak, nobody eats Ivory's steak, nobody....gobble, gobble, gulp, burp! This girl is a complete tazmanian devil on the court, a tazmanian devil on crack. She's 5'6'' and does not stop running, whether it's with her legs or her mouth, she just keeps going and going and going. Now I don't know what this girl is like off the court, but on the court, she is so intense I wouldn't even bat an eye if I saw her chew an opponent's arm straight off the shoulder and through the bone. She's got that crazy look about her that Ron Artest has, you can see it in their eyes. They're the only two athletes I would probably start tip-toeing for if they ever crossed my path (For some reason it's always better to tip-toe when approaching or being approached by a crazy person, you don't want to set them off, it's like all of a sudden you are on thin ice and the slightest thing could cause an explosion).
A typical date with Ivory might go a little something like this. Me, "So what do you want to do?" Ivory, "I know what we can do, let's go tease the Anderson's pitbull and on the way back we can tip over garbage cans." Me, "I don't know.....somehow the idea of angering an animal that could probably rip my face clean off doesn't sound all that appealing, and what's with tipping over garbage cans?" Ivory, "You see, you tip the can over and the trash spills out all over the place, then the owners have to pick it up the next day, it's a riot! Well if you don't want to do that, then what do you want to do?" Me, "I don't know, a diner, a movie?" Ivory, "Or.....we could stay here and.........(Ivory approaches me with that crazy look in her eye and I begin to stammer, knowing full well that whatever she has in mind could be very, very painful. Especially having seen the way she devours a steak). Me, "You know....we could stay here and that would be great, really, really great, but I'm pretty sure I gotta get going." Ivory now unexpectedly clutching my stuff with one hand, "Oh, I don't think you're going anywhere, not till I'm through with you." Me with tears slowly rolling down my cheeks, "Look Ivory, I don't want any trouble, I just want to go home, I'm begging you, please don't hurt me, ple-e-e-e-e-ease." Ivory, "You are such a bitch, get outta here before Ivory really gets mad." Before she finishes the sentence I'm halfway down the hall of her apartment, thankful I'm alive.
If you see Abby, ask her if she likes me or not. And I mean like me, like me. Not just like me.
# posted by hucklebuck @ 7:54 AM 
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You're killing me Stackhouse, you're absolutely killing me. Next time you see her, remind her about my love for puppies and the elderly. Surely, she will melt like butterscotch on a kettle top.
I watched that game as well my friend, and not for any of the women, so you've got nothing to worry about.
I have become a big fan of women's basketball, especially the LA Sparks. It seems to me that the women's game is just more of a team game and doesn't have the egos that the men's game has. I had a chance to meet Lisa Leslie (I think she was the first woman to ever dunk a basketball) a couple of years ago and she couldn't have been more friendly or charming. I don't think you find that in the men's game. Lisa, you go girl! Besides, the women play the game in a way that a person such as myself can relate to much easier. You should try watching more of the women's game, Abby isn't the only totty in the bunch.
Hucklebuck and those in association with Hucklebuck enterprises do not condone the use of the phrase "you go girl" under any circumstances, especially when referring to WNBA players. They do however acknowledge that Sue Bird is quite a totty, assuming a totty has something to do with Sue being attractive.
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