Showing posts with label Mama. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mama. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Some things you just don't do.


This is a memo to Mark Cuban from the field:

Mark, I know that you hire a lot of black men to play on your team and you are an owner in the NBA, which means that you have a lot of interaction with black men by default. But there is something you should know: DON'T YOU EVER EVER DISRESPECT A BLACK MAN'S MAMA! I don't care how much of those "dead presidents" you have just sitting around collecting interest. Some things you just don't do. I know you got caught up in the heat of your team's playoff series, but don't let that shit cause you to end up in a Dallas hospital some damn where. And for the record, your apology on your blog was lame.

Your actions the other night, as you walked off the court, towards Kenyon Martin's mother, had me wanting to kick your ass. There is a reason we say "your mama" to each other if we really want to rumble. Not your wife. Not your daddy. (Well, most of us don't know our Daddies) And not your grandma. Your mama is what gets our blood boiling. Because, for better or for worse, we just love our damn mamas.


And let's be clear; the real villain in this sad episode is not you, Mark. No, the real villain is that coward, David Stern, for not slapping you with a big fat fine. (I guess there is a different standard for owners) You have created an environment in Dallas that could lead to something nasty, and leaving the family members of visiting players exposed to that Texas mob (ahhh Texas, again) in your arena is just downright irresponsible.

I never agree with Jason Fatlock, but I might have to this time. He is right when he says this:

"Right or wrong, disrespecting a black man's mama publicly has always been a drop-the-gloves moment. When a billionaire white man does it, it becomes a ride-or-die episode for the entire neighborhood.

Last I checked, Martin plays in a league dominated by black men hailing from the don't-talk-about-my-mama culture. I don't have any doubt that La La Vazquez and every other Nugget sympathizer who entered American Airlines Arena for Game 4 came with an attitude looking for tiny signs of disrespect.

I'm sorry. I don't blame them.
I'm 42. I'm mature. I'm a pacifist. I haven't been in a fight since college. I honestly can't remember the last time I was fighting mad. But had Cuban wagged his finger at my mother, loud talked her and told her I was a "punk" and/or a "thug" — after I pulled my mother (father and brother) off him — I would have delivered at least one mouth shot."


Mr. Fatlock, make that two of us.