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Posts tagged as:
Bucks
…or something.
Basically, once upon a time, Andrew Bogut got fouled and was supposed to shoot two free throws. But he’s a terrible free-throw shooter as you know. So Brandon Jennings, who is a good free-throw shooter and a guy who me and like a dozen other people call The Pterodactyl, thought to himself that he could use the ensuing commotion of the referee telling the scorer’s table what had just happened to sneak in and take the free-throws.
And it worked.
Sorta.
Brandon steps to the line, catches the pass from the referee and shoots — and makes — the first free-throw. But the other ref soon realizes what’s going on and runs over and is all like “the jig is up, Pterodactyl Face With The Flat Top” and takes the ball away, ruining both Brandon’s master scheme and disappointing all the children.
Then Bogut goes to the line as regularly scheduled.
And, in a tale as old as time, he misses two free throws.
The end.
(video via BareKnucks)
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I’ve neglected to post so many great NBA videos over the past month that it almost feels weird to drop such a gem. But sure enough, here we have Adam Morrison stealing a free-throw high five from the Dallas Mavericks.
I honestly am not sure if he was actually trying to be slick and funny for if he’s just such a weirdo headcase at this point that he’s not exactly sure how the free throw protocol goes anymore. (video via Ball Don’t Lie and Oh Me Oh My, The Jello’s Jigglin’)
Either was, as far as free throw handshaking shenanigans goe, this one is indeed great but is definitely still only a distant second to Andrew Bogut’s classic self-high fives (second video).
That was epic. Nice work, Andy Bogues.
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I’m not sure if you’ve heard this yet, but Brandon Jennings is incredible. Not only did he drop 55 points in his seventh career NBA game, but he’s averaging 25.2 ppg for the season on 48.2% shooting and 51.9% from three, which would not only be fantastic for, say, Steve Kerr, but is particularly impressive for a 20-year-old who fell to the 10th pick in the draft, at least in part, because he was said to possess a suspect jumper.
So, just FYI, we’ll now be referring to him as The Pterodactyl around these here webtubes. Matt Moore of Hardwood Paroxysm came up with it. djturtleface gave us the below illustration. And I think it’s a perfect fit for the kid who has inspired us to say “Chuck Norris is the white Brandon Jennings.”
Thus, it is now official. Put it on the board.
In related news, CDR is now The Dread Pirate Chris Douglas-Roberts courtesty of Russ Bengston Update your Outlook and Gmail contact lists accordingly.
Mostly, it’s just great to see all these early-year additions to the big board. Keep up the good work.
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Unfortunately, I’m not a professional NBA blogger yet. No, no. This nonsense is pure amateur hour. In my actual career, I’m a mailman. A letter carrier. A master of the postal arts. Il postino.
It’s not the best job, but I make it much better. I steal. A lot. I’d say that out of any given ten letters I pick up, I thieve seven or eight. And ya know who writes a ton of letters? NBA players. I was shocked too. But I’m talking, like, a ton. In fact, the only thing they mail more than letters are postcards. Yup. Postcards. They send em to everyone. They send them to each other. They send them to their coaches. People send postcards to them. And sometimes they even send postcards to themselves.
These are the ones I stole last week.
Chicago Bulls
Cleveland Cavaliers
Detroit Pistons
Indiana Pacers
Milwaukee Bucks
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Hey, you.
Yeah, you — the guy in the camo gear with the orange vest, the greasy hair, the goatee and those weird yellow-tinted goggles that old people to like to wear. I just wanted to give you a heads up: don’t mess with me. Seriously. Whatever gun you’ve brought with you for this “hunt” that you’re on — don’t use it. Turn around, walk back through the woods, pick up the cans of Beast that you left lying around, get in your pickup and go home.
I’m warning you right now: you don’t want it with me. I’m a motherfucking Milwaukee Buck. You got me? Muh-ther-fuh-cking Mil-wall-key Buck.
Do you not see the muscles bulging out of my neck and shoulders? Do you know how many yokes I had to pull; how many sets of neck ups I had to tear through; how many delt exercises I had to invent; how much DGH went into this fucking bod? My muscles have their own muscles. Look at that picture! There is no Gold’s Gym in the Wisconsin hinterlands. We don’t get a one-time trial session with a deer trainer when we join the local forest.
We just tear shit up.
You sure you can handle it, gunnin’ for me? Don’t just stop at my ripped neck. Look at how my antlers, ever sharp, don’t point out toward you but up and in, back toward themselves. That’s sinister, hombre. You will get torn up if those things catch you where the sun don’t shine. Or in the face. IN THE FACE!
And how about my eyes? Yeah, that’s right — I’m rockin’ demonic zombie eyes. We’d have colored them in with red, but Herb Kohl wants children to leave the arena without the fear of an impending nightmare. But don’t think for a second that I won’t ride out like some heartless S.O.B. Because I will. I make those four horses carrying the harbingers of apocalypse look like My Little Pony.
And the blood. Did you notice the blood? I’m fucking swimming in it over here. A large, looming triangle of bitch-ass blood, drawn through violence from punks like you. At this point, maybe you’re swimming in something else. Have you pissed yourself yet? I wouldn’t be surprised.
So, yeah, walk away, little man.
You don’t want it.
Joey writes about hip hop, politics, sports and life at Straight Bangin’ and waxes poetic on the NBA at FreeDarko. Sometimes, he can be heard on the FreeDarko Presents: The Disciples of Clyde Podcast. Other times, you can find him at the library pursuing higher education and listening to Dilla. You don’t want it with Joey neither.
You don’t want it.
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