Let me take you back in the history of basketball, one which we are certainly NOT doomed to repeat. To the 1920s, Washington, D.C. ….
Photos via Shorpy.com.
[1925. Bob Grody & manager Ray Kennedy, Palace Laundry]
[Feb. 15, 1926. Washington, D.C. Palace team, entry in the American basketball league, being taught Charleston by Vivian Marinelli. Left to right: Kearns, Manager Kennedy, Conway, woman playing piano, Miss Marinelli, Grody, and Saunders]
Last week a D.C. neighborhood blog, New Columbia Heights, posted some very old photos of a Washington pro basketball team from the 1920s, the Palace Five Laundrymen.
The Palace Five played in the American Basketball League (ABL) from 1925 to 1927 and were owned by the racist former owner of the Washington Redskins, George Preston Marshall. Most interesting to me, they played in Columbia Heights, D.C., mere blocks from where I live today.
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D.C. Mayor Adrian Fenty seemingly spent his Thanksgiving holiday in South Beach as he’s seen here attending a Washington Wizards game in Miami on Friday, November 27, 2009.
And what would Black Friday be without some free advertising for the local DMV economy by Mayor Fenty, a walking billboard for Baltimore-based Under Armour and Fleet Feet, the Columbia Heights Adams Morgan running store owned by his parents.
I certainly hope Mayor Blackberry enjoyed his time down South, although I do understand it was unseasonably cool. I also hope the Mayor was passionately rooting for his hometown Wizards. Although the fact that he appears to be wearing Miami Heat red doesn’t help his cause.
Just to make one thing clear, I do NOT read Perez Hilton…..the GF does and I get the occasional share via Google Reader. Still don’t believe me? Well, eff it.
One of Hilton’s “gimmicks” is to do things to photos of celebrities…..nasty things.
The audacity of this LeBron “Raymone” James….to throw a party in DC, the city he has done wrong with countless acts of douche-baggery.
I do not care for LeBaby James, a secret this is not.
Would Philly, or perhaps Boston, or even Detroit tolerate a LeDouche-Nozzle party in their wastelands? Who knows.
But LBJ has done his dirt in DC twice!
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Once again the presidential inauguration doesn’t have much to do with the Washington Wizards, except for the fact that everyone on the team, from players to coaches, wished they were in DC experiencing history.
I was there for you guys.
But…..if the Wizards were in DC, I’m pretty sure they’d be schmoozing it up close with clowns like P-Diddy, or even this interesting looking feller right here.
I, on the other hand, walked with the masses around the Washington Monument and the WWII Memorial…..it was cool (and pretty freakin’ cold too).
Pictures: A Google Reader ShareBro put me on a post from Gizmodo featuring the absurd shot below from the inaugural youth ball.
From the Gizmodo post: “…..people are more interested in taking photos of something they’re witnessing than actually, you know, witnessing it.”
Ironic……just the previous night, I’d gotten into a conversation with a cousin, who I’d previously only met once in my life some 20 years ago…..really cool dude by the way…..about the future of photography, open source, the ease of digital photography for everyone, and, of course, people being consumed with capturing an event rather than being apart of it.
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So What Does Milwaukee Think of Arenas……and D.C.?
To make it clear, I’m not here to bash Milwaukee. After Gilbert’s recent comments in regard to Brew City (covered here in Part I: Gilbert Arenas doesn’t like Milwaukee, and that’s good for the NBA), the citizens of that good land naturally were driven to rebut DC’s Agent Zero.
Milwaukee, tell us how you really feel:
OnMilwaukee.com Blogger, Jeff Sherman, comes to the defense:
“Every player” hates Milwaukee? Come on, Gilbert! It’s no secret that Milwaukee isn’t New York City or Chicago. But we aren’t some two-cow town in Iowa either. It’s tough, yes, for many corporations and sports teams to recruit “stars” to smaller market cities. But, the days of “Bush League” are gone and Milwaukee can and is competing. See forbes.com, which ranked Milwaukee the ninth best city for young professionals.
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The 2008 Melbourne Homeless World Cup is right around the corner. Get tickets now if you would like to enjoy the Australian summer while taking in some transient action on the pitch.
While common sense reason would tell me otherwise…..living in Washington, DC, where the homeless presence has increased in the current economic environment, the idea of a Homeless World Cup, now in it’s 6th year, can’t help but conjure up some interesting images in my head.
I imagine spirited competition just like any other serious sporting event. However, instead of uniforms, participants are wearing tattered clothes, worn in upwards of eight layers. Perhaps there’s a guy trying to play while a hefty bag full of world possessions is in his grasp. Maybe the main striker wonders off the field during the course of play to pee in a glass jar. Instead of Gatorade baths, players squeegee each other off. The goals are over-sized grocery carts turned on their sides. Each player has homemade cardboard signs pinned to their back with name and jersey number…..some signs go on diatribes about implanted government chips. (Actually, if you are homeless and you make something yourself, can you really call it homemade?) In any case, perhaps the benches would be akin to the gentlemen in the photo below making comfortable use of a chain between two poles.
But the Homeless World Cup does have some interesting ‘Street Soccer’ Rules…including:
- If you’re homeless and younger than 16, no dice. So, a homeless man’s homeless Freddy Adu is left at home….or wherever……left to consider his self worth.
- You are eligible if you meet one of the following conditions:
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Ever wonder why they refer to F Street as “Fun” Street? This whole time, I thought it had something to do with the Wizards or Capitals….or the restaurants and bars in a revitalized area of Washington, DC.
Unbeknownst to me, the corner of 6th & F in Chinatown DC (yup, right next to the Verizon Center) is where undercover gigolos roam.
Gigolo….huh, sucka?
Yes sucka indeed…..evidently the Mayor of District Heights, Maryland, James Walls Jr. (also an associate minister at a Baptist church), was arrested on the corner 6th and F late last night for doing the Buffalo Stance soliciting an undercover male prostitute. You can read the story here on the WashingtonPost.com. I guess Jimmy wanted to get ripped a new one just like the Cleveland Cavaliers.
My first thought….keeping the stereotypical image of cops in mind….was who the hell is Cathy Lanier hiring these days? Then, as the story goes, I found out that Mayor Walls offered the undercover cop $40 bucks for his “services.” Hmmm….doesn’t seem like much. I imagine that this cop looks like the combination of the following three people:
Ashy Larry from the Chappelle Show
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All Eyez on Green
The ingredients of a ‘Pac song:
- Bitches? (a quote and not a derogatory reference) Check.
- Weed? You realize you’re dealing with the clientele of Earth Day right? Ok, check.
- Litter? (the aforementioned replacement) Double-check.
In spite of the rain, I decided to head south from my spot between Columbia Heights and Mount Pleasant to check out the District of Columbia’s Earth Day 2008. While I’m about 27 mental breakdowns and a house full of loose screws short of chaining myself to hugging a tree, it doesn’t mean that I’m not down for the cause of pro-consciousness/making sure I separate my recyclables, on the side.
Oh yea, it didn’t hurt that the Roots (along with Talib Kweli, Doug E. Fresh, Chrisette Michele, etc.) and Toots (along with the Maytals) were scheduled to perform. Actually, these acts were pretty much the only reason I took the trip (that whole getting out the apartment thing is nice too).
Unfortunately, the Green Apple Music Festival website did not divulge when the various artists would perform (perhaps a cost-cutting measure intended to save grass in the Mojave). So, I found myself pigeonholed between some band known as Gov’t Mule (which, judging by their website pics, the group looks like they’re a few track-marks short of the fate of Johnny Weeks – not to mention that a former member was found dead in a NYC hotel at the ripe age of 44)….and Warren Haynes, who is somehow a primary cog in the Gov’t Mule machine (in case you were wondering, the apostrophe seems like their version of flair à la Office Space).
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So, after an afternoon of listening to U.G.K, I was sitting around the apartment on Sunday evening, not knowing what to do with myself. Women’s Final Four? Meh. I’ll have it on, but I can’t guarantee my undivided attention. Granted, I wasn’t bored. I despise the word ‘bored’ – can bloggers really ever say that they’re bored? In any case, a text message from my boy Rob came into my phone around 7:30 pm, “Hey, you wanna go to Jay-Z?”
Uhh….okay? Wasn’t aware that Jay-Z was in DC….so the potential for a trick was present. Well a trick it was not. The next thing I knew, I found myself at the sold-out Verizon Center in Chinatown DC with front row club level seats — witnessing Mary J. Blige and my first Jay-Z concert. Mary J. put on an absolute show. Jay-Z….he was pretty damn good. I could be picky with song selection and quantity, but I won’t. [My Top 10 Jay-Z Tracks]
Thanks to Rob for looking out and thanks to his boy John for giving up the tickets.
Jay Z & Memphis Bleek’s brief appearance. And now, for those Washingtonians who may or may not read this blog, here are some DC-related links:
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I love to people watch. Coffee shops are good, but metro rides on the way to the debut of Nationals Park are even better:
- You got your enthusiastic 12-year-old, complete with a mitt and a blue & red Nationals “crazy hair” wig…..along with his suspiciously effeminate father, who was wearing a purple-blue jacket with a pink collar, glasses with frames you’d expect to see on a 14-year-old schoolgirl from the 1960s, and a tan Nationals hat. “It’s opening day son!…Time to break out the tan Nats hat!”
- The couple of mid-60s white women with beauty-parlor dyed hair and pudgy mid-Western décor hustling and bustling into the green line train from their blue/orange transfer at L’Enfant Plaza. Beware of such determination to find one of the few open seats for a two-stop ride…. women with their own seat cushions don’t mess around.
- Finally, you got your average white guy along with his average white girlfriend projecting that uncomfortable white guy smile at the sight of some black folks tusslin’. He appears to convey his delight at the hijinks, but we all know he wants to charge out of the train like George Kostanza at a child’s birthday party.
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