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 | Friday, November 26 Thanks, but no thanks Special to ESPN.com | |||
Had the in-laws over for the first Thanksgiving dinner since we got married.
So, after my grandmother-in-law says the obligatory prayer that for some reason all old people feel they need to lead, my wife says to me, "Sweetie, since it's our home, you should stand up and give a toast." I wanted to take a roll sitting next to me on the table, rifle it across the room and see if I could get it to stick in her gullet. But her parents were there. So I didn't. Since I'm so good at standing up and giving toasts, I popped right out of my chair with all the vigor of a chronic insomniac, and began to relate all the things that I was, well, thankful for. "I'm thankful," I said, "that I'm not a member of the New York Knicks, who had to go home and explain to their wives why they paid a bunch of strippers from Atlanta to allegedly have sex with them in Charleston, South Carolina during a mini-training camp for the playoffs a few years ago. Patrick Ewing, of course, already had to give this explanation once before, in regards to a Knicks dance team member, so his story was much shorter and more practiced. Personally, I don't see the problem. These mini-camps are designed to promote team unity, and what better way to promote unity than a team orgy. I think the French call it 'Menage-a-20.' I was hoping the Sonics would hold their pre-playoff team-unity mini-camp in Vegas this April." At this point, my grandmother-in-law's mouth was agape, and it was not because she wanted me to chuck a turkey leg into it. I considered stopping, but hey, it's my house, dammit. So I forged onward, buoyed by the strength of moral conviction -- as well as a couple of glasses of wine. "I'm thankful I'm not a Pepsi can when Isaiah Rider is around.""I'm thankful I'm not a rim when Shaquille O'Neal is shooting a free throw." "I'm thankful I'm not the inner ear of any member of the Lakers, assaulted on a daily basis by Phil Jackson with things such as this: 'It's just going to be a growth thing, and the sooner we attack the problem from the real cancer and start working on chemotherapy on this thing -- if I can take this allegory a little bit farther -- the better off we're going to be.'" "I'm thankful I'm not P.J. Carlesimo's neck."
"I'm thankful I'm not Latrell Sprewell's lawyer."
"I'm thankful I'm not Latrell Sprewell's accountant."
"I'm thankful I'm not Latrell Sprewell." "I'm thankful I'm not a car being driven by Derrick Coleman."
"Or Eldridge Recasner." "Huh?" my grandmother-in-law said. "Snap to it, Betty," I said. "If you can't keep up, get out of the kitchen -- or something like that." "I'm thankful I'm not Alonzo Mourning's temper, which never takes a day off."
"I'm thankful I'm not Pervis Ellison's hair technician."
"I'm thankful I'm not Allen Iverson's tailor."
"I'm thankful I'm not Thomas Hamilton's tailor, either." "I'm thankful I'm not a Snickers bar when Oliver Miller is around." "I'm thankful I'm not a Washington Wizard." "I'm thankful I'm not Donald Sterling's wallet, which never gets opened."
"I'm thankful I'm not Bill 'I wanna buy a team, any team'll do' Laurie." "I'm thankful that I didn't bet Olden Polynice more than a $100 dinner, because he would renege on that, too." "I'm thankful I'm not Karl Malone's conscience."
"I'm thankful I'm not John Stockton's shorts."
"I'm thankful I'm not Jerry Krause's mirror."
"I'm thankful I'm not a Bulls fan who had to buy three seasons worth of season tickets in order to see MJ's last season and now have to sit through this BS." "Who's MJ?" Granny asked. "Duh," I replied, and took another gulp. "I'm thankful I'm not George Karl's hotel room."
"I'm thankful I'm not Walt Williams' or Keith Van Horn's socks; I'd have to be up all the time."
"I'm thankful I'm not one of Stephon Marbury's teammates."
"I'm thankful I'm not New Jersey upper management, who are about to get a full dose of The Boss." "I'm thankful I'm not Leon Smith. 'Nuff said." "I'm thankful I'm not Maurice Taylor, watching every penny of my $71 million contract seep away into Lamar Odom's pockets." "I'm thankful I'm not Glen Rice's expectations."
"I'm thankful I'm not David Falk's ego."
"I'm thankful I wasn't David Stern's beard."
"I'm thankful I'm not Billy Hunter in two years, when players start getting 10 percent taken out of their paychecks."
"I'm thankful I'm not an NBA seat; I'd feel empty half the time."
"I'm thankful I'm not Stanley Roberts' liver."
"I'm thankful I'm not Pat Riley's hair gel; I'd be ancient." "I'm thankful I'm not the idiot who made the decision to keep running those commericials with Tim Duncan and David Robinson and the gnomes, when they talk about Duncan's rookie season -- which was two years ago." "I used to have gnomes," Gran said. "Whoop-de-do," I slurred. "I'm thankful I'm not Jeff Van Gundy's pillow; I'd be full of hair."
"I'm thankful I'm not Cherokee Parks' tattoo artist."
"I'm thankful I'm not named Christian."
"I'm thankful I'm not Lawrence Funderburke, who's always going online to read the Israeli newspapers to see if the end of the world is coming. (If you don't know what I'm talking about, you need to read this column more often.)" "I'm thankful I'm not the leotards on those halftime show contortionists."
"I'm thankful I'm not the plates being thrown around by that Asian woman at other halftime shows." "I'm thankful I'm not Ahmad Rashad's microphone because I'd have schmooze all over me."
"I'm thankful I'm not Michael Buffer's imagination; I wouldn't exist."
"I'm thankful I'm not Avery Johnson's speech therapist."
At this point, I needed a speech therapist, or a good dose of coffee followed by a 10-hour nap. So I sat down. Nobody was there. They had gone to McDonald's to get a quadruple cheeseburger. I was thankful. Frank Hughes covers the NBA for the Tacoma (Wash.) News-Tribune. He is a regular contributor to ESPN.com.
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