Wednesday night, July 13, 2005

         Last night at the deSilva residence there were 10 players in attendance. The teams were Stigmata, Little Joe, Bob, Jose the MVP (aka Ben Cartwright) and NC versus Spec, The King, Hamhocks, The Assassin and yours truly. Stig's team jumped out to a 3-0 series lead before Spec's team was even really warmed up. Spec, The King and The Assassin led their team right back and, before you knew it, it was a 4-2 series lead for the Stig team, with a couple of very close contests that ended in the favor of Stigmata's team. Even though Spec's team was playing pretty well, Spec declared, on the sideline after a hard-fought loss, that he didn't have "his spunk". All I could think of at the time was Austin Powers not having his mojo. At any rate, with Stigmata hanging with Little Joe like a pilot fish, the series stretched to 7-3 series lead for Stig's team, when Spec advised that he had had enough and he was done playing for the evening. Unfortunately, I was one of the people who goaded Spec into playing 2 more games which were at best, as Mike Croteau used to say, ill-advised. Spec's team lost the 2 games very quickly and gave Stigmata the chance to brag that he was 9 and 3 on the evening. Spec, who still isn't accustomed to a 25% winning percentage on a Wednesday night, but who should be getting used to it pretty soon, dashed from the premesis before the last hoop was through the basket. My other 2 teammates, The King and The Assassin, also both left rubber in leaving the deSilva residence after the humiliating defeats. The only teammate who stuck around was Hamhocks, and he had no choice because he lives at the place. Now, although we were beaten 7 games to 3 (those last two do not count in the official tally), we didn't play badly, I didn't think. Spec played as well as possible, hit alot of shots and hustled at all times. The Assassin hustled, rebounded, banked shots and followed every shot that was taken. The King played well against Little Joe and played well on offense. Hamhocks wouldn't shoot, but did rebound and outlet and played good D. I guess it was just because Spec didn't have his spunk that we lost. Good thing that Austin Powers got his mojo back or Dr. Evil would be ruling the world. In regards to Stig and Little Joe, a pilot fish is one of those little fish that you see swimming all around a shark just waiting for any food that the shark might drop so that they can eat it. I'm sure that you've seen them, just hanging out with the shark and dining off of his scraps. That's kind of what Stigmata has been doing with Brian Ferris and Little Joe lately. Although, I have to admit that Stigmata did play and shoot well last night. I couldn't believe it when Spec told me he heard Stig say that he wasn't getting enought shots and that Little Joe was hogging the ball. Amazing that they won the series at all with that kind of anti-comraderie. After the basketball festivities, many subjects were broached upon poolside by the remaining few: me, Jose The MVP, Hamhocks, Stigmata and Bob. Jose The MVP mentioned that Hamhocks was a shooter and Hammy replied, "Yeah, well not anymore." Am I mistaken or does that indicate that Hamhocks used to be a shooter back in the day? When I brought his Freudian slip to his attention, Hammy got really defensive and tried to change the subject from when he used to be a shooter. Does anybody remember when Hamhocks was a shooter? It must have been when he had normal-sized arms, I guess. Speaking of Hamhocks, his wife came out and mentioned that Hammy was talking about his private parts very loudly while in a restaurant last Saturday night. Hammy didn't recall it, but an investigation has revealed that Hamhocks refers to his private area as his "wee-wee".  Hamhocks loves to spread false information between Spec and myself, in order to get us at each other's throats, but this is a real story. Evidently, and Brenda can back this up, Hammy refers to his groinal area as his wee-wee. I swear that you can't even make this stuff up if you tried. I don't know how many Eminem fans there are out there but, on his "Encore" CD (the song titled "Ass Like That"), he refers to his private area as his "pee-pee". Who'd have thunk that the conservative Hamhocks would have such an intimate similarity with Marshall Mathers? Maybe Hammy should be a white rapper, I don't know. Lastly, where has the Blacktop poet laureate been? Is he still living in Dartmouth? Does he still play basketball? I saw one of his Laura entries on the Guestbook Page a while back, but where the heck is he? Probably just afraid of getting stuck on Spec's team. Speaking of Spec, Commissioner Roberge has declared the BoB Tourney will be held "in mid-August". Well, thanks for narrowing it down for us Commish. I'm supposed to be in the Adirondacks in the middle of August, but I will return if there is a 4th Annual BoB Tourney. How about hooking Spec up with the Coyle-Connection, if he's to have any chance to win? Me, Ferris and Spec should be able to dominate the BoB. I know that a Dartmouth High alumnus is sure to drag us down, but us Coyle guys can hande it. At least Spec would have some chance of garnering a win.      

SPEC RALLIES THE TROOPS MVP STYLE

       Saturday, July 9, 2005, was a turning point in the Blacktop career of Steve "Spec" Roberge. It was the day when I think he finally came to realize that his game is in the gutter but, more than that, I think it was the day that he finally came to realize that nobody even respects what's left of his game anymore. This was demonstrated by the fact that Spec's team got the crap kicked out of it for most of the day. I, being on the winning team (of course), truly enjoyed watching Spec struggle along game after game and, being the good winner that I am, was happy to share my thoughts on the subject with Spec as we played. It was obvious that Spec was getting just a little pissed when it happened: Brian Ferris (from my winning team) made a no-look pass while out on the break and just as he was approaching Spec near the top of the key. Spec bought the fake bigtime, so much so that he ended up on his backside, breaking both of his ankles. Needless to say, I took great joy at this development and verbally assaulted Spec to the best of my abilities. But I have to admit, even I had to let up after a while after watching Spec hustle like a dog just to see his team lose game after game. When Spec's team did finally squeak out a close game victory, Spec feeblely tried to talk trash under the trees at the side of the court, but it was obvious to this observer that the old Spec swagger just wasn't there and his attempt at trashtalking was really just a half-hearted effort and not the loudmouthed abrasiveness that we've come to expect. Probably the most embarrassing aspect of the day for Spec was, when in a close game with his team absolutely needing a defensive stop, Spec hollered to his teammates Jose The MVP style, "Let's get a stop!!" But, with Spec's Blacktop credibility in the toilet, his teammates totally ignored him to the point that they allowed Jeff "The Assassin" Gardner to literally walk in for an uncontested, game-winning layup. It was obvious, at that point, that Robes had nothing going on at all. Listen Spec, as was once said to Dan Quayle in a famous televised debate, "I know Jose The MVP Gonsalves and you're no Jose The MVP Gonsalves."

               Later out on the Blacktop, I had to speak to Coach Stigmata about a little matter that had gotten the best of me out on the Blacktop. Stig was dribbling and dribbling and dribbling and dribbling out on the right wing while I stood at the foul line, with perfect spacing mind you, awaiting the inevitable pass from Stigmata. Although I waited and waited and waited and waited, the expected pass never came. Stigmata looked me off about 5 times over a 45-second span and then finally made a tremendously tough pass to Brian Ferris as he cut through the lane while double teamed. This irritated me somewhat because, although I had missed most of my few shots during the various games, the few shots that I had taken had been of the close to the hoop variety. Had Stigmata chosen to pass me the ball, there was no chance that I was going to shoot it but merely pass it to my next open teammate. Ah, but Stigmata wasn't about to take that chance. I mean, after all, I guess in Stigmata's mind there was some chance that I might foolishly take a 15-footer and ruin the game for him. At any rate, I never said a word, but just fell back to the defensive end, since it was obvious I wasn't going to touch the ball on the offensive end. At that point, Stigmata evidently observed me back on defense while my team was still on offense and demanded to know what I was doing. Having Stigmata, who was THE reason I was back on defense, ask me why I was back there set me off in a way that I was almost immediately sorry for. I told Stig exactly what I thought but, not surprisingly, Stigmata couldn't seem to comprehend what the hell I was talking about. I think that everybody else on the court understood what I was saying and the point that I was trying to make. Maybe not, I don't know. Maybe Stigmata was right to dribble the ball relentlessly rather than just move it successfully like we had for like 6 games in a row. All I can say is, "LET'S GET A STOP!!"