ChillSpot Online: Our Art is Life

To my readers, all six of you, this is not some sappy poem, as it seems has been posted here. However, there is a bit of sadness in here someplace. The Cavaliers traded Drew Gooden, Larry Hughes, Ira Newble, Donyell Marshall and Cedric Simmons away in a deal that brings them Ben Wallace, Wally Szczerbiak, Joe Smith, Delonte West and a second round pick.

While I applaud the team for dumping Hughes’ salary (sort of, I mean, Wallace’s contract is just as huge), I would have liked to have seen him thrive here as he had before he came over. He’d been playing much better as of late, but it was too late to salvage his expensive turn in Cleveland.

He wasn’t nearly as effective defensively as he was touted to be, he may have cost the team last season by playing on a bum leg, and his offense was offensive (a shooting guard, known for his ability to get to the basket, shooting 37 percent is just hideous.)

Anyone who’s seen Lebron glare at Drew Gooden after failing to hustle, or missing a shot after a sweet pass, or any number of things that showed he wasn’t really motivated, or focused, knew he was on borrowed time.

The trade will go down as a success simply because the team managed to rid itself of Hughes contract, even if in doing so they took on the equally repulsive Wallace deal. But, and this is big, Wallace is a motivated (usually) big man who’ll play in the trenches and has Cleveland connections (did you know he went to Tri-C?). Same with Szczerbiak, who played for Miami of Ohio, and who should be the shooter Marshall, Hughes or even Damon Jones is not. And Joe Smith and West should fill in nicely for the departed Gooden and the gaping hole in the team known as the point guard spot.

Of course, this all sounds good now, but wait till Ben is missing 8-10 from the line, and Wally is injured. But, in the ideal situation, the Cavs did acutally improve, even if it feels like they traded six for a half dozen.

It’s been a minute, but there are plenty of sports-related issues I gotta touch on, so let’s get going…

- Shaq to Phoenix won’t be so bad as Larry Hughes to Cleveland. At least Shaq can crack a joke while he’s sucking down Gatorade on the bench, and he’s not likely to miss 70 percent of his shots either.
- Gasol going to the Lakers was a masterstroke. And to get rid of Kwame Brown, who MJ labeled “soft” in much harsher terms, was like getting steak for a Spam sandwich.
- Tiger is the man. He’ll be even moreso when he gives up on that hairline.
- Add Kobe to the FBI’s most endangered hairline list. Remember when he had that ‘fro as a youngin? Those days are numbered. If you don’t believe me, look at his ‘do in HD. See?
- NASCAR saying they want their drivers to express their attitude, but NOT kill each other in fits of road rage smacks of hyprocrisy, and they’ll have no one to blame when Tony Stewart punches Kurt Busch. Oh, that already happened?
- If dog fighting was legal in the Dominican Republic, would Pedro be villified here for participating? And why not? What makes dogs better than chickens, other than how they taste? Not saying I know how dogs taste. At least I think I don’t…
- If dog fighting were legal in the Dominican (and it may be?) would Michael Vick still be playing in the league, and not be in jail?
- The Patriots … DAMN.
- Bill Belichick is running up the score against the Giants … on Madden 08.
- Eli Manning to David Tyree?!?!
- Tyree stands to become the next Larry Brown, from Super Bowl hero to rich nobody on some other team. Even so, hellified catch, kid!
- To my Browns; get a running back in the draft. J. Lewis ain’t got too long here, either through injury or ego.
- To my Indians; sell as many C.C. Sabathia merchandise as you can, because that Santana deal guarantees C.C. will be the newest weapon in the Yanks or Bosox rotation real soon.
- To my Cavs; be glad to say these words in the near future: Larry Hughes Expiring Contract.
- To Tiki Barber … DAMN you look dumb.
- I think Roger Clemens is going down in flames, and he had a choice in the matter. He chose wrong. Once he’s finished, he’ll have Barry Bonds looking like Barack Obama.

Fry it up, mix it with some eggs, whatever you do,
it ain’t hard to love some good ol’ bologna.
Think I’m playin, think I’m kiddin, but I ain’t.
I keep some in my fridge, just for days when I feel like
taking it back to dollar movies and Tahitian Treat,
or like toast in the oven with government cheese bubblin,
bologna go back like eating cereal with water,
cause y’all out of milk, or drinkin sugar water in a martini glass.
Or maybe that’s just my way back.
But naw, if you grew up poor, or nearly poor,
you prolly had bologna in your house.
And not no damn Oscar Meyer neither!
Y’all had some shit that just said “bologna” on it,
and in the fine print it said some shit like
“made with beef, pork and turkey products” on it.
And that was cool, cause once you fried it up,
with some home fries and shit?
Hell yeah it was on!
I went through a phase where I denied my bologna heritage.
I only ate turkey.
I only ate chicken.
I pretended like I had Grey Pupon in my house.
I caught myself once turning my nose up at the bologna section,
like I’m too damn good for it or somethin.
But you cain’t deny who you are.
So, dammit, I went back to that aisle, and begged for forgiveness.
Beef brand wasn’t having it. Turkey brand wasn’t too upset,
seeing as I had been showing his cousins love.
So they let me back in, even gave me a nickname – “Boloney Tony”.
Italian sausage thought it was funny to call me Bolo T.,
but I never got that. Think he was angry that I had to cut him
and Brat out as friends. They were a little too disagreable for me anymore.
So, everything was cool again, but not really.
See, I couldn’t go all the way back to bologna like I had done before;
the rift was just too big. So I had to hang with light turkey bologna,
who don’t fry up so good, and don’t seem to mind
being so much in the skillet as my old homie,
who used to scream like a pig, pun intended,
when that heat got on his ass.
Anyway, that’s my story on it, and that’s how it ends. PEACE!