zombieH's Enchanted World

Florida Middle School Teacher Cops Plea for Sex with Student. Judge Gives Hell To 15-year-old "Stool Pigeon."

2005-11-24T10:28:00.000-08:00

TAMPA, FL--Middle school teacher and model Debra Lafave was sentenced to three years of house arrest and ordered to register as a sex offender after she pled guilty to engaging in sexual relations with a 14-year old male pupil.

25-year old Lafave escaped prison after the minor's family, wishing to avoid an emotionally-scarring trial, accepted her attorney's 11th hour plea bargain offer.

Lafave, a self-professed unhappy newlywed, met her student-victim at a flag football game at school. She eventually had sex with him in the classroom, at her home and, on more than one occasion, in the back seat of a car driven by the victim's 15-year old cousin.

When the cousin told what he'd seen to his mother, Lafave was swiftly arrested, and the ensuing scandal rocked the Tampa community and the nation, at large.

In Tuesday's hearing, the judge sharply rebuked Lafave before prounouncing sentence, but he saved his harshest words for the victim's 15-year old cousin who first brought the matter to light.

"What's the matter with you?" barked the judge to the boy. "Didn't you get that Christmas had come early for your friend?"

The judge sentenced the surprised teenager to 100 hours of community service, but stipulated nothing easy "like planting flowers or sweeping up."

"I want you digging latrines!" he snapped.

copyright 2005 zombieH

Warren Beatty Keeps It In His Pants. Political Future Wide Open.

2005-11-09T18:23:00.000-08:00

LOS ANGELES, CA--Warren Beatty recently informed his inner circle that he was serious about running for political office in 2006. The Oscar winning actor/director received enthusiastic feedback, in response.

Well, mostly enthusiastic.

A long-time friend had reservations. "I pulled Warren aside," says "X," speaking on the condition of anonymity, "and reminded him that he's shtuped every woman on the planet. That's serious baggage for a would-be governor."

Beatty was defensive, at first.

"He didn't want to hear it," says X. "He argued he had nurtured a respectable public image, that he'd been awarded a Kennedy Center medal, that he now gave commencement addresses."

X's response? "I just kept saying 'Clinton! Clinton! Clinton!' until he shut up. Then I told him the media would crucify him unless he figured out a way to keep the little commando in his pants."

Beatty reluctantly agreed, but he didn't know how to solve his problem. That's when PhalluStrict entered the picture.

Brand new to the U.S. market, PhalluStrict is an adaptable receptacle that attaches inside a man's inseam. A client simply inserts the source of his trouble into PhalluStrict's patent-pending vacuum-seal and he is securely, yet comfortably, fastened in place.

"Quite literally, he cannot get out of his pants," says PhalluStrict creator Dr. Richard Wherli. "That is, until the vacuum-seal is released at the end of the day by a digital password typically entrusted to an agreeable associate."

Beatty was skeptical at first, but when Dr. Wherli informed him that other high profile men were already clients, he agreed to try the product out. His wife Annette Bening was incredibly supportive, even volunteering to be his personal "password-keeper."

The results have been amazing.

"I've never seen Warren so focused," says "X." "The other night, I caught him chatting up a young, attractive MoveOn intern, but when I snooped a bit he was just analyzing political strategy. He didn't try to get her email address, phone number, nothing. It was extraordinary!"

Adds "X," "If I ever get serious about anything, I'll definitely invest in PhalluStrict!"

©2005 zombieH

Latrell Sprewell Can Finally Feed His Family

2005-11-06T15:43:00.000-08:00

MINNEAPOLIS, MN--A year ago, NBA star Latrell "Spree" Sprewell rejected what he deemed a lowball $21 million, 3 year contract extension from the Minnesota Timberwolves. "I've got my family to feed," the 34-year old guard quipped to the media.

Sprewell's notorious remark set off a media firestorm. While some claimed he was misunderstood, most critics lambasted the 6' 5" guard, who was once suspended a year for choking his coach, as yet another obnoxious, overpaid, out-of-touch, professional athlete.

Not so, says Sprewell today. "I'd just never heard of Costco. That changed everything. Now I'd grab all that money [the Timberwolves] offered me in a heartbeat!"

According to Sprewell, it was Los Angeles Lakers' star Kobe Bryant who introduced him to the nation-wide discount superstore. "When Kobe thought he was going to jail last year, he downsized. That's when he hit on Costco. When me and him were coolin' it this summer he let me in on it."

Sprewell is excited by all that he can now afford. "I can buy a s***load at Costco. They got those Harry and David hams for 60 bucks, 2000 Clos Des Prince Bordeaux for just 30 a bottle, and prime rib eye for only 12 a pound. It's a bitch that the Gold Star Membership sets you back $45 a year, but that's the give and take."

Though a new NBA season commenced last week, Sprewell remains at home--an unrestricted free agent with no contract offers from other teams. According to Spree, this simply allows him the opportunity to discover other price-slashing enterprises. "Don't even get me started on this place called Wal-Mart," he says.

©2005 zombieH

COSTCO...from the cradle to the GRAVE

Valium-Woozy Cheney To Press: "What Gives?"

2005-10-30T12:38:00.000-08:00

WASHINGTON D.C. -- "Is this D.C. or Disneyland?" said Vice President Dick Cheney to reporters during an impromptu press conference at George Washington University Hospital.

Admittedly impaired after yet another balloon valvuloplasty heart procedure, Cheney blasted the media and his political detractors for making, as he put it, "such a big deal about this Valerie Plame thing."

"This may be the Valium talking, but since when is political payback god**** newsworthy around here?" the vice-president said.

Cheney's words follow a rough political week in which the vice-president's chief-of-staff, I. Lewis "Scooter" Libby, was indicted on four criminal counts of false statements and perjury related to the leaking of Valerie Plame's covert CIA status to the media.

Members of the Bush administration, specifically Libby, Karl Rove, and, possibly, the vice president, himself, are suspected of deliberately sabotaging Plame's career to retaliate against her husband's (Ambassador Joe Wilson's) public critique of President Bush's rationale for the Iraq war.

"Nice dogs don't hunt," Cheney continued. "As Machiavelli wrote, 'they pull a knife, you pull a gun. They send one of yours to the hospital, you send one of theirs to the morgue. That's the Chicago way.'"

Informed by reporters that this was a Sean Connery line from the gangland classic "The Untouchables," not Machiavelli, Cheney scowled "I'll see you all in hell," and abruptly ended the press conference.

Reached for comment at the ninth hole of the Newport National Golf Club, President Bush, said, "Vice-president Cheney is one of the loyalist Americans, a talented patriot. A real personal friend."

©2005 zombieH

Pete

2005-10-16T15:38:00.000-07:00

Bush Morphs Into Monkey Before Stunned Press Corps. Doctors Blame New Primatial Influenza.

2005-10-12T17:00:00.000-07:00

WASHINGTON, DC--In an astonishing turn of events, President Bush was struck by a new, highly virulent, primate flu while reading an afternoon statement to the Washington press corps.

Within seconds, the president transmogrified into a black and white colobus monkey. Reporters gasped. Photojournalists fired away.

"What?" Bush said.

Secret Service agents whisked the commander-in-chief away as the press corps erupted.

"I've never witnessed anything like it," said Helen Thomas, of Hearst News Service. "Though I had a poor vantage point, Bush suddenly sprouted fur and slumped a bit. He didn't appear to be in any pain, however."

After several minutes, a pale White House press secretary Scott McClellan came to the podium. "The president is okay," he announced. "He's resting. He's asked for fruit."

According to U.S. Health and Human Services secretary Mike Leavitt, Bush is the first American to be infected by H4N1 primatial influenza, e.g. the "monkey flu."

"We didn't even know [this flu] existed until last week," says Leavitt. "Like the rest of the world, we have been so busy preparing to battle the lethal avian influenza (bird flu), which could kill millions of American citizens, that this one slipped in under the door."

World Health Organization officials say that the monkey flu has astonishing symptoms, yet is not fatal and easily cured with a ready vaccine. "President Bush was quickly treated," says Dr. Margaret Chan, assistant director-general for communicable diseases. "Though he won't regain his human form for another 48 hours, he can go about his work day."

Chan warned that others may not be so fortunate. "Similar to the avian influenza, the U.S does not have enough monkey flu vaccines to treat a potential panemic in America. We're seriously scrambling, these days."

After a short rest, the president was back on his feet and on route to a closed-door budget strategy session with cabinet members.

"It's business as usual here," affirmed vice-president Dick Cheney, in transit.

©2005 zombieH

Townshend To Fuller

2005-10-12T04:07:00.000-07:00

And now for a quick break from the usual news...

I call this image "Townshend To Fuller." I made it by experimenting with MorpfX to morph the images of Pete Townshend (circa 1982) and Rachel Fuller (2004). Then I cropped, polished, and further distorted in PowerPoint, iPhoto, and Adobe Photoshop. I find the final result to be strange and beautiful--everything done with no planning, no agenda.

btw, Townshend and Fuller, both musicians, are a romantic couple. They are also bloggers. To access, click on the links:

Rachel Fuller's Blog

Pete Townshend's Blog

I'm a writer, not a visual artist, so this project was a nice change of pace.

Apologies to the original photographers (and to the subjects themselves, what with their elegant faces).

©2005 zombieH

Pope Benedict Says New Gay Priests Are OK. Gay Priest Hopefuls Cry Foul.

2005-10-07T19:25:00.000-07:00

THE VATICAN--Pope Benedict XVI now welcomes gay men into the priesthood if the candidates can prove they have been celibate for at least three years.

Additionally, gay candidates must not "publicly manifest their homosexuality" nor show an "overwhelming attraction" to homosexual culture."

Benedict's ruling went into effect yesterday. Already, openly gay candidates have voiced concerns.

"They're still not letting me in," claims one young man from New York City who requested anonymity. "I did the interview, jumped through all the hoops, really bared my soul. They still showed me the door."

The young man even presented his review panel with a signed, notarized statement from his boyfriend. "He verified that I didn't let him touch me for three whole years. [The panel] still demanded more evidence!"

The church rejected his application but welcomed him to reapply in a year.

Acknowledging the challenge of another 12 months of chastity, the young man expressed more concern about the third papal condition: i.e. not showing an "overwhelming attraction" to homosexual culture."

"I am not giving up my opera seats," he said.

©2005 zombieH

Roy's Walking Again. Alleged Mauler Grows Impatient.

2005-10-03T14:43:00.000-07:00

LAS VEGAS - The return of Siegfried & Roy may be inevitable, for Roy Horn can now shuffle short distances without assistance from a rolling walker.

"The magic is back," says Roy, 61, two years after a white tiger mauled him during a performance at the Mirage Hotel. Horn's injuries included a damaged neck artery, a crushed windpipe, and partial paralysis on his left side.

"I meditate a lot, but I am constantly in pain. I'm trying to live with this."

Horn said he is comforted by visiting his animals every week - including Montecore, the white tiger that nearly killed him on stage.

The alleged mauler's attorney had strong words for Horn, however.

"My client rots away in his cell, with no official charges filed, no trial scheduled, no jury of his peers," says Walter F. Banks. "It's an international travesty."

Banks claims that Horn, indeed, visits Montecore every week, but the image of a gentle Roy communing with his tiger is deceptive.

"It's all PR," says Banks. "In reality, my client's in orange jumpsuit and shackles. He's forced to wear one of those Hannibal Lector face masks, too."

"Roy dangles a big turkey drumstick in front of his nose, then snatches it back when Montecore makes a move for it. It's awful."

In a prepared statement, the suspect mauler states, "Two years ago, I was a world-class entertainer who lived for the stage. Now I'm just another U.S. political prisoner, without rights, dignity, or due process."

"I'm deeply disappointed, to say the least. Roy Horn better hope I never get out of here."

(c)2005 zombieH

First Bush Family Member Enlists In The U.S. Armed Forces. Could Eventually Fight In Iraq.

2005-09-29T15:49:00.000-07:00

MUSTANG PRARIE, TEXAS--President George W. Bush's cousin became the first Bush family member to volunteer for the Iraq war.

Early this morning, Jacob "Jake" P. Bush, the President's second cousin, enlisted in the Marine Corps at his local Texas recruiting station.

"He's a determined fellow," said Niles Bush, Jacob's father. "I'm surprised, and a little overwhelmed, but very proud, certainly."

In Washington, the Bush administration was guarded in their response.

"The president is pleased and honored that Jake will serve his country, but he does not wish to politicize [the enlistment] simply to counter recent criticism," said White House press secretary Scott McClellan, in a prepared statement.

McClellan is referring to dissenting groups such as Operation Yellow Elephant who have reproved the president because no members of his family are fighting in the Iraq war.

So far, Jacob Bush has refused comment, but his father thinks his son took exception to the criticism. "He didn't like it," said Bush. "I think he wanted to make a statement."

Four-year-old Jacob will start boot camp in 2019.

©2005 zombieH

New JFK Book Sheds Light On Prostitutes

2005-09-27T19:43:00.000-07:00

A new biography of John F. Kennedy asserts that the president's sexual indiscretions were the rule, not the exception, during his brief administration.

"If I don't have a woman for three days, I get a headache," Kennedy confided in British prime minister Harold Macmillan, during a luncheon.

"[He spent] half his time thinking about adultery," Macmillan frowned.

John F. Kennedy: A Biography (Thomas Dunne Books. St. Martin's Press. 2005) is historian Michael O'Brien's offering to the surfeit of JFK histories.

Armed with newly-released documents from the JFK Presidential Library, O'Brien portrays an unhappily-married, yet fun-loving, JFK hosting regular nude pool parties with "Fiddle and Faddle," two young white house employees, and partying with prostitutes while on the road.

Throughout it all, the befuddled secret service, accustomed to the previous, low-key, Eisenhower administration, was sent scurrying.

"These girls are for the presidential suite," barked a Seattle sheriff to secret service agent Larry Newman, pushing hookers past the security barricade.

"We didn't know if these women were carrying listening devices," Newman recounted, "if they had syringes that carried some type of poison, or if they had Pentax cameras that would photograph the President for blackmail."

Remarkably, the president's sexual drive was not in the least hampered by his exceptionally poor health, complicated by Addison's disease and crippling back pain.

Reaction to the 971-page John F. Kennedy: A Biography has varied.

"There is no new news here," says Jonathan Lester, chief spokesperson for Americans For Biblical Decency. "Kennedy was a benchmark for the reckless immorality of the Democratic party and the secular culture at large."

"The allegations are typical, cynical, straw man politics," counters Marion Duhnlow, research fellow at the Wilson Institute, "Navigate the public away from Kennedy's accomplishments in civil rights, the peace corps and the cold war, and focus on the mundane, the sexual."

Traditionally declining comment on such matters, Senator Ted Kennedy (D-Massachusetts) rose swiftly to his brother's defense. "Listen, it's not like all those broads weren't well compensated," he said.

©2005 zombieH

John Hinckley No Longer Insane, Ready To Go Home. Nancy Reagan Not Happy.

2005-09-20T20:36:00.000-07:00

Two decades after John Hinckley nearly assassinated President Ronald Reagan, government psychiatrists have testified that the mental patient is ready for release.

According to Dr. Robert Keisling, Hinckley's only remaining problem is that he cannot hook up with women at a state hospital.

"Do we call that normal?" Hinckley's attorney inquired.

"I would," Keisling affirmed.

Twenty-four years ago, on that fateful early-spring morning in 1981, Ronald Reagan had been in office for seventy days.

Exiting the Washington Hilton after a speech to organized labor, the president paused for a final wave outside his limo.

Fifteen feet away, John Hinckley dropped to a marksmen's pose and opened fire with his, recently-purchased, .22 German pistol.

The first of six exploding Devastator bullets ripped into the head of press secretary James Brady.

The second dropped policeman Thomas Delahanty.

The third and fifth went wild.

The fourth hit self-sacrificing secret service agent Timothy McCarthy in the chest.

The final slug tore into the President's lung, stopping inches from his heart.

At the hospital, Reagan nearly bled to death. Doctors saved his life on the operating table, but the commander-in-chief lost half of his blood supply in the process.

In 2005, Hinckley's psychiatrists testify that he has no symptoms of mental illness. The preceding judge must rule if Hinckley should be released to his parents' supervision.

Reached for comment, former first lady Nancy Reagan said, "If that mother****** is ever set free, I'll blast a hole in his ass the size of Libya. And I'll go Katrina on every Hinckley in the ***damned planet!"

Photo of Nancy Reagan courtesy of Richard La Fond at La Fond Photography
http://www.lafondphotography.com/gallery/hollywood/

©2005 zombieH

Pope John Paul's Final Words

2005-09-18T20:50:00.000-07:00

Gasping for breath, Pope John Paul II croaked in his native Polish, "Let me go to the house of the Father." Six hours later, he was dead.

The venerable pontiff's final words were disclosed in a 220-page report, released this past weekend by the Vatican, in a rare nod to freedom of information.

Surprisingly, the report highlights the Pope's rather mundane next-to-last words, as well.

"This was a great holy man, a saint, the father to believers world-wide!" emphasized a Vatican official, speaking on condition of anonymity. "So what if he balanced the sacred with the profane in his dying hour. He was in immense pain as he prepared for Jacob's bosom!"

"Christ mercy," groused John Paul II at one point in the report, "Only the Roman cooks could screw up Polish food so badly! Not one half-chewable perogi in 25 years!"

"And the Barszcz tasted like it squirted from a dog," he moaned,

The weakened Pontiff added: "The Romans...the Romans. My hemorrhoids were more serviceable!"

When contacted, Pope Benedict XVI, who has ordered a fast track for John Paul's sainthood candidacy, declined comment.

©2005 zombieH

Memo To Jim Buss

2005-09-04T12:41:00.000-07:00

To: Jim Buss, vice president of player personnel/alternate governor, Los Angeles Lakers
From: zombieH, budding public relations agent
Date: August 27, 2005
RE: Your Recent Press Conference

As a public relations agent representing the firm Don't Swallow Your Whole Foot ™, I'm delighted to submit feedback about your recent press conference. Again, I thank your father and the entire Laker organization for intrusting our firm to guide you during these formative years of executive grooming.

Before I get to the nitty-gritty, let me reiterate that our firm recognizes the Laker organization's concern in the days, hours and minutes preceding your appointment with the L.A. press corps. Surely, none of us need to rehash the last time (what 7 years ago?) live microphones were thrust in your face--since referred to, rather doggedly, as "the incident" within the Laker organization.

All of us know that you didn't mean to imply, at the time, that most NBA scouts, such as your superiors Jerry West or Mitch Kupchak, were as savvy as tree monkeys in the zoo. The media distorted everything you said, which is something they do--hence the need for professionals like Don't Swallow Your Whole Foot ™.

Essentially, I believe your recent press conference concluded satisfactorily. As Chick Hearn used to say, there was no foul, no call, no blood, no ambulance. True, in the aftermath your father, sister, brother, Mitch, Phil, and Magic left us a series of detailed voice mails--really lit the fire under us--but that doesn't mean that your media venture was another disaster.

Anyway, to start with the positives, you certainly came across as less arrogant this time around, and I could tell that you took to heart our mantra of "don't stumble, be humble." Glad to see you studied those DVD's of the Andy Griffith Show I sent your way, for your use of "Holy Cow!" to feign surprise about your sister dating Coach Phil was very endearing, very Lake Wobegone. Average Joe Americans like that sort of thing!

Now to move to the constructive criticism part. Regretfully, you piped up about, oh...how should I put this, well...your father's eventual demise. I believe you were trying to make the point, as we coached you, that the decision-making buck, obviously, stops with your father. But then you ad-libbed that you considered this true only in regards to major decisions, and only until he dropped dead.

This one's easy. In future, refrain from underscoring your dad's mortality. You see, empire-builders like him don't like to think about stuff like that. In fact, your father's penchant for dating one Playboy bunny after another is probably a sign that he really, really likes it here on earth and does not wish to entertain the notion of it all ending just like that with a snap of the fingers.

Plus, bringing up the whole, um... "eath-day" thing might make you appear too eager.

Also, while you were emphasizing consulting your father on what you called major, not minor, decisions, you said, “[by major decisions] I'm not talking about [the recently signed] Aaron McKie. . . .that kind of decision [my father] doesn't have to make.”

Well, all of us here at Don't Swallow Your Whole Foot ™ realize that you weren’t intentionally dissing Aaron Mckie, and certainly Mr. McKie is professional enough to realize this.

However, his agent took exception to the comment, and you know how agents are paid to get all riled up and make threats that they don’t really mean—stir the pot up good. Whether or not Mckie would now rather play for another team is hard to substantiate, but your father, Mitch and Phil are concerned about being forced to start Sasha Vujacic at point guard this upcoming season, what with his 1.5 assists/game average and poor summer league play. Therefore, I recommend that you start saying to anyone who will listen that this week's signing of Mckie is one of the greatest acquisitions in Laker history—right up there with Mikan, Wilt, Kareem and Magic.

A few more suggestions: You spoke of your willingness to take your dad’s place on all those NBA committees, saying, “that's where I need to try to get. If I can get to that spot where the commissioner is comfortable with me on the committees, I think my dad will really back down a lot." (Bold font my emphasis).

Next time, try something more upbeat, such as “…then my dad will be free to concentrate more on [fill-in-the-blank-with-something-professional-sounding].” For "Back down a lot" has a harsh ring, as if you were referring to an old Grizzly forced into submission by an upstart bear.

Lastly, in speaking of Phil Jackson, you said: “But when it comes to the professional side, I'm professional about it. If I don't like what [Phil Jackson's] doing, I'm going to let him know. But that's professional. It has nothing to do with the personal side. And if I like what he's doing, I'm going to tell him about that too.”

Well, a basic rule for nurturing mutual trust is to start with the positive before the negative. If you notice, that’s what I did in this memo. So, next time reverse the order of things and then lightly mention that in the far-fetched chance Phil would ever do anything wrong you would be there to interact with him. That way, Coach Jackson might not feel the need to leave pointed voicemails at the offices of Don't Swallow Your Whole Foot ™ about his ten championship rings and how he “craps bigger than Jimmy Buss.”

That’s it for now. Everything said, you are making progress, and I am confident that your next press conference seven or eight years from now will prove ever more successful.

Sincerely,

p.s. I would really like to buy you a drink sometime and talk to you about horses, which is something I understand you really know a lot about. I'm just interested in win, place and show type stuff.

Photo of Jim Buss by Lori Shepler, Los Angeles Times. August 23, 2005

©2005 zombieH

Don't Mess With Wilt

2005-07-25T19:14:00.000-07:00

Wilt Chamberlain had a monster of an NBA career.

In his fourteen professional seasons, he shattered the record books in scoring and rebounding, and even one season (as a 7’ 1” center) lead the league in assists. So prodigious were Chamberlain’s feats that Bill Russell, his great on-court rival, was moved to say, " [Wilt] . . .set the standards so high, his point totals are so enormous, that they've lost their impact."

So what was Wilt’s greatest game of all time?

Most people would readily say that Chamberlain’s 100-point assault on the New York Knickerbockers during a cold 1962 March night in Hershey, Pennsylvania, was his best ever. In this contest, Wilt not only cemented the NBA single game all-time scoring record, but he also set the NBA single-game record of most free throws made (28 out of 32).

Others might point to the 11/24/60 game when Wilt ferociously yanked down 55 rebounds (31 in the first half) against Bill Russell and the Boston Celtics.

Your typical basketball know-it-all could even argue that Wilt’s perfect field goal night (18 for 18, another NBA record) against the Baltimore Bullets in 1967 is his #1.

But for my money, I’ll take Game 5 of the 1972 NBA Finals. Wilt had 24 points and 29 rebounds in 47 minutes of play while holding his man Jerry Lucas, a future NBA Top-50 player, to 14 points and 9 rebounds. With the win, the Lakers crushed the Knicks 4-1 and celebrated their first NBA championship in Los Angeles.

This is Wilt’s best game--the event that most fully speaks not only to his soaring athleticism, but his great heart.

I’ll tell you why at the end.

The reason I’m writing about Wilt today is because of Charlie Rosen’s recent “best lists” of all time NBA players (ranked according to position or role). Rosen, who writes for Fox Sports and has helped Phil Jackson pen many of the latter's books, is a true aficionado of the game. Typically, his meticulous assessments of NBA players and coaches are dead-on, though his curmudgeon schtick lards his prose, at times. He’s the type of journalist who inspires the love and hatred of many, and this suits him fine, I’m sure.

Well Charlie dashed off his best list of NBA centers, and guess where he ranked the one Wilton Norman Chamberlain? Um…#4.

No need to scurry over to the optometrist, your glasses are fine. That’s right: #4.

Rosen ranked Bill Russell, Kareem Abdul Jabbar, and Shaquille O’Neal ahead of Wilt.

Yes, that Shaquille O’Neal.

(No doubt Pat Riley’s been ducking Shaq all week, knowing that O’Neal will want to brag Rosen’s list, and Riles, who played with Wilt, will have to bite his tongue something fierce when he does.)

Ranking Shaq as #3, Rosen writes, “…although Shaq has spent many seasons out of shape, struggling with injuries, and/or giving in to his own ennui, he's still more consistently competitive than was Chamberlain.”

Interesting. Call me nuts, but, to me, a professional athlete who is usually out of shape, often injured as a result, and bored despite being paid over a hundred million bucks to play basketball is not my standard image of a competitive person. And until Shaq, the self-titled “Most Dominant Ever” can manage to finish a regular season as the leading rebounder or a first team member of the NBA all defense squad, he has no business being referred to as a better center than Wilt Chamberlain.

So Rosen’s position is absurd. As Oscar Robertson, the great point guard, once said, “the book don’t lie” about Wilt being the best ever.

According to NBA records, Wilt Chamberlain’s career average was 30.1 points and 22.9 rebounds a game. One season, after his coach Frank McGuire, urged him to “try to go for 50 a night,” he, indeed, averaged 50 points and 25 rebounds for the year. Wilt scored 50-plus points 118 times and lead the league in rebounding 11/14 seasons. (Wilt’s worst rebounding year was an average of 18 boards/game.)

In addition to these individual accomplishments, Wilt won two championships with the Philadelphia 76ers in 1967 and the LA Lakers in 1972.

Oh, and he played a whole year with the Harlem Globetrotters right out of college. You gotta love that.

On the subject of championships, however, Wilt takes endless pot shots from the Charlie Rosens of the sporting world. Essentially, two rings were never deemed enough by the critics. “Why, Russell had 11!” they intone. Ergot, since Russell had so many, and Wilt had so few, comparatively, that Wilt is a “loser.” (Charlie Rosen has actually explicitly referred to Wilt as "a loser" in previous articles.)

News flash to Charlie: Wilt almost never had the coaches or the teammates that Bill Russell enjoyed. Russell played his entire career for one coach: the legendary Red Auerbach (except for Russell’s last season where Bill coached himself). Chamberlain played for 8 different coaches, including second-tier folks like Bob Feerick, Dolph Schayes, Butch Van Breda Kolff and Neil Johnston.

Russell’s teammates included Bob Cousy (one of the best ball handlers of all time), K.C. Jones (one of the best defensive guards of all time), Bill Sharman (one of the best shooters of all time), Sam Jones (an NBA Top 50 player), Tom Heinsohn (an All-Star), Frank Ramsey (an all-time great “6-Man”), John Havlicek (NBA Top 50 player), and Tim Loscutoff (as Wilt wrote, “the best hatchet man of all time”). At one point the Boston Celtic starting lineup included 4 NBA Top 50 players: Russell, Cousy, Jones and Sharman.

For a decade, nobody beat these Celtics. Only Wilt and his 1966-67 76er teammates did (once).

When Wilt had the benefit of a great coach and teammates, he won it all. In the 1966-67 season, the celebrated Alex Hannum manned the ship and teammates included Hal Greer (NBA Top 50 player), Chet Walker, and Billy Cunningham (NBA Top 50 player). With the 1971-72 Lakers, coaching Hall of Famer Bill Sharman ran the show, and teammates included Jerry West (NBA Top 50 player) and Gail Goodrich (#25 jersey retired by Lakers).

Wilt is not only the best center to play the game; he is the best player to play the game. There is no body of evidence to prove otherwise. Not only that, Wilt might very well be the most gifted athlete to ever grace the sport. When Chamberlain was invited to attend the University of Kansas, he received a dual scholarship for basketball and track. In his collegiate career, Wilt set state records for the high jump that remained unbroken for decades and he ran the 100 yard dash in 10.9 seconds.

So why do writers such as Charlie Rosen, who wrote 206 words about Chamberlain in his “Best Centers” piece without saying anything positive, disrespect Wilt? Perhaps Chamberlain’s bragging, outspoken nature rubbed people the wrong way. “I’m a loud extrovert,” Wilt wrote,” [I’m] not afraid to say something good about myself, or something bad about someone else—when the occasion warrants it.” Conceivably, to Wilt's detractors the insufferable problem with Wilt’s braggadocio was that he was rarely wrong about his limitations. Arguably, the world prefers more modest types like Linus, from the Peanuts comic strip, who quietly builds sandcastles to rival the Taj Mahal and pitches no-hitters when Charlie Brown is injured.

But facts are facts, and Wilt was the best ever. And that's all I have to say about that.

Oh…and to get back to why game 5 of the 1972 NBA Finals was Wilt’s best game—you know the one where he scored 24 points and grabbed 29 rebounds in 47 minutes of play? Well, Wilt did that with a broken right hand (badly injured in game 4).

Actually, his left hand was fractured too…

(The photo of Wilt at the top of this article is him a day after game five, proudly showing off the new car presented to him for being named Most Valuable Player of the 1972 NBA Finals).

Photo courtesy of Wilt: Just like any other 7-foot black millionaire who lives next door by Wilt Chamberlain and David Shaw. (Published 1973, Macmillan).

cheers,

©2005 zombieH

The Trickster Crosses My Path

2005-07-25T10:00:00.000-07:00

Yesterday evening, I was hiking in the Santa Monica Mountains and received a distinct present. The hike was one I was privately celebrating, for I knew I would cross the 50-mile threshold (since I began obsessively tallying my mileage last month). About three quarters of a mile up the mountain, in a section of dense thicket that encloses the narrow trail, I spotted a nice looking dog, about 40 pounds with light brown and white streaked fur. It was coming down the trail about 20 yards ahead of me.

I cursed at first, thinking "Here's yet another unleashed dog with an owner who has ignored, or dismissed, the strict NO DOGS rule in Topanga State Park."

The canine stopped to look at me and then it slinked, casually, sideways into the brush.

Quickly, I realized this was no dog, but a rather magnificent Coyote, going about its business.

As I trudged on, I felt compelled to share my sighting with other hikers, but when the moment presented itself, I said nothing. I suppose I just didn't want to rat out my new acquaintance.

Later, I read that many California Coyotes are only about 20 pounds (which seems impossibly small), but this one was significantly larger. Evidently, some grow up to 40-50 lbs.

On my walks this past month, I've spotted a large Gopher Snake (slithered at my heels), a swimming, and scowling, Garter Snake, several California Legless Lizards or Southwestern Thread (Blind) Snakes (I can't decide), a family of California Quail (with 3 chicks), Jack Rabbits, and various other critters.

But on my 50-mile hike, I encountered what I consider to be the best beastie so far.

Canis latrans. The Coyote. Cousin to Canis familiaris, e.g. everyone's best friend.

In Amerindian mythology, the Coyote is the trickster -- the clever, somewhat bewitching, rule-breaker.

A wise friend of mine from northern Michigan periodically reminds me to pay attention. She's a big picture kind of person.

I'm paying attention Ginger, I swear to God I'm paying attention!

More on California coyotes from DesertUSA.com: http://www.desert usa.com/june96/du_cycot.html

The Coyote photo above is courtesy of DesertUSA.Com

cheers,

©2005 zombieH

Lulu & the Snow Leopard

2005-07-23T17:40:00.000-07:00