Seriously. I really think, in a game of one-on-one to 11 (my magic number), winners ball, all baskets worth one, that I could beat Derrick. Is that insane? I’m confident that playing him tight to his left with some hard-nosed defence would give me the edge. I mean, I’m not great, but I’m not bad, either, and craftier than you might expect. So consider this an official challenge, Mister Martin. If anyone knows his number, address, or which Wheel Trans he takes to the stadium, let him know there’s a nobody who thinks he’s a bigger somebody than him. Tell him I’m predicting an 11-7 victory.
Is this just arrogant bravado from an armchair athlete? Or is Martin really that bad? I don’t know, but I DO know that I really can’t take Mr. Potato Head seriously. He’s the untalented, long-lost twin of Cee-lo.
“Word? Derrick Martin? Motherfucka, don’t insult me.”
Please Sam, do not give Derrick any significant playing time this season. It’s bad for all involved. Readers, if you or anyone you know has a direct line to God (any god will do), please ask him/her/it/the not to bring injury upon TJ or Jose. I don’t have much in terms of offerings to bring to the altar (where?) but if the lord is willing to take my coveted Jay and Silent Bobbleheads, I’m willing to make the sacrifice.
On another depressing tip – First Sean May. Now Shaggy-Doo is done for the season. Sure, he’s shitty anyway, but regardless it does not bode well for my Bobcat Bet. I should have known these guys would find a way to get hurt brushing their teeth. I’m not sure there’s been a franchise so consistently decimated by injury in recent history, so it only makes sense that I’d make a brash pre-season prediction and back it up with an insane bet.
Let’s hope I’m a better ball player than a gambler. Check ball, Dmart.
Derrick Martin’s typical defensive stance.