It would appear that one DeMarcus "Boogie" Cousins can't win, no matter what he does. NBA fans know he's a big talented dude that has slaved away in obscurity for the Sacramento Kings in recent years.
And now he's signed a contract on the cheap to play for the Golden State Warriors. By cheap, that means an, ahem, paltry $5.3 million bucks for one year. Of course, this is all relative. $5.3 million is far more than most working people, including college grads, will ever make in their lifetimes. The utter absurdity of professional athlete salaries, many of whom likely couldn't pass an eighth grade equivalency test given ten tries, I leave to the reader to contemplate. Let's just say it's gotten out of control -- big time.
Par for the course, the talking heads are dissecting Boogie's move every which way.
The good news is -- they think it admirable that he would accept far less money than he could have got by staying with Sacramento, or going to any number of other teams. Also, who can question his desire to win an NBA championship -- something which he has a very good chance of doing while playing for the Dubs.
[Idle thought. This is quite a pick-up for the Warriors. It gives them a big guy they didn't have before that is multi-talented, while not hurting them at all in the salary cap department. Oh so quietly, they just got a lot better, as if they needed it.]
But the inevitable bad news is -- the same folks that praise him for the above are willing to rip him for "cherry-picking". that is, selling himself short by going to a front runner to quite possibly get a ring.
Poor dude can't seem to win in their eyes. So what was he supposed to do? Stay with the always pitiful Kings? Go to the Detroit Pistons, New Jersey Nets, NY Knicks, or some other clueless and bottom feeding organization?
How about we cut the man some slack?
OK, Wimbledon, that always uppity tennis tournament, is upon us again. So I tried to check it out. Click.
What did I see? A ladies match, featuring one Vitalia Diatchenko going up against Maria Sharapova. A couple Russian girls. Pretty good looking too. What? Sexist? I don't care. Sue me. I appreciate beauty when I see it, and aren't afraid to say so.
But I couldn't stand to watch them for very long, so I don't know who won the match.
It was the screaming. Both of them shrieking at the top of their lungs with every tennis stroke they made.
Besides being totally unladylike, which Wimbledon is supposed to exemplify, one is left to wonder how women of this ilk behave while in the privacy of enjoying their sex lives -- if they have any.
If they scream like that on a tennis court, how much racket to you think they'd make while in the throes of ecstasy the pleasures of the flesh have to offer?
Beats me, but I'm guessing the entire neighborhood knows about it when they're getting it on.
[Idle thought II. Didn't PGA golfer Rory McIlroy have a go-round with Sharapova a while back? And then kicked her to the curb? One can hardly blame the Irish lad. Poor devil was probably in fear of going deafer than a post from such encounters. If he was any good -- that is.]
I've long been a fan of professional poker players at the highest level. Wouldn't miss the annual World Series of Poker for anything. Those guys and gals are truly amazing with their strategies and fearlessness under the ultimate big-money pressure.
But I saw something this year that made me sit up and take notice.
Evidently, there's a female player named Ho. For real.
That's gotta be rough in the real world, especially among the guys she's typically playing with.
I mean, how would one go about getting her attention to speak with her?
Would "Hey Ho" work?
Somehow that doesn't have a very good ring to it.
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