1. Tuesday, July 16, 2002

    this is how to keep it real 

    allen iverson is one of the top three basketball players in the nba. the order probably goes, shaq, kobe, allen.

    all his life allen has been a rough neck drug taking outlaw rebel who lives his life as recklessly off the court as on.

    how a man six feet tall can have a napolean complex is beyond me, but if you look at his behavior, and the fact that most of his peers are six to fourteen inches taller than him might explain some of it, but the bottom line is he’s a punk rock superstar.

    a few days ago it became obvious to the 76er shooting guard that this morning he was going to be arrested for busting through an apartment with a gun while looking for his wife.

    you think he could have combed his hair.

    but allen keeps it real and i might be a sarcastic person most of the time in here, but i like that.

    he didn’t soar to the top of the nba by playing someone else’s game, or copping someone else’s style. he’s his own man, full of complexities, oddities, viciousness, rage, and pure love of his terribly shy momma and little daughter.

    he’s also one of those young black men who has a chip on his shoulder and it will never go away.

    allen is a superstar and in philly where he is now in the slam awaiting the wheels of justice to move, he’s a deity.

    and in the prison that he is sitting in, he is bigger than a god.

    which just makes me wonder, what the fuck is up with your hair?

    did the coppers unbraid the corn rows? did he party all night and never get around to having his cousin fix him up good? was the hair dresser busy at the phillies game last night?

    and the eyes.

    allen, we all know you’re a baller. and a stoner. and a leader. ive never been to jail as an inmate, ive only been a visitor, but i cannot imagine going through the process of being booked, deloused, processed, etc. while baked.

    i know guys like snoop dogg don’t like to do anything while not under the influence, but if you really are a marijuana connoisseur, and you’re bigger than God in the slam, don’t you think theres going to be a nice sack of weed waiting for you and a basket of flowers from the fellas in the cell block down the way?

    i know if i was allen iverson i would expect that shit and i would be one pissed off lil all star mvp if all of that wasnt laid out real nice on my cot right next to the silver commode.

    true, his stay will probably be short. just time enough to get arraigned and bailed out. but allen has a chance to be with an element that, despite what the blatantly racist tv pundits will kid about, he does not interface with on the regular.

    petty crooks, tax evaders, money launderers, cocaine middle men will break bread with him today. nobody is expecting a sermon of, “shape up, brothas, thats what im fixin to do.” but they’ll want to talk basketball. they’ll want to talk about playing against mj. they’ll want to talk about lots of stuff.

    and the way allen iverson will be with these other fallen angels will touch them in ways that will stay with them for the rest of their lives.

    it might even change them for the better.

    so you know the cops are going to unbraid your braids. and you know the brothas will braid it up good for you. and the only thing better than a jailhouse tattoo is a jailhouse hairdo, so why didn’t you show up prepared, awake, and alert, AI?

    keeping it real?


    maybe because deep down you’re just a selfish little bitch concerned with you and you only.

    you can storm through a house waving a gun talking shit because you know how to drive the lane spin a 360 and sink a fallaway off the glass.

    cut you and you dont bleed.

    and still that chip on your shoulder is so big that you cant see how deeply you could touch others who need to be touched.

    so concerned with your own self you don’t see how living by example, if only for a day or two, no matter where you lay your nappy head, could send the right man down the right path. how every guy who passes by your cell once you’re gone will think, nba’s finest was right there. this hell hole isn’t so hellish after all. in fact this little nook is pretty special.

    so next time you find yourself in prison, #3, comb your fucking hair, and smile for the birdie. the man hates it when we smile.

    my kingdom for one strong black man with an attitude and a shred of class

    up in here.

    loving the link love from all, especially: doc searls and the daily pundit