Shuttin Up Buppies

One of my epiphanies while revisiting DC was that I might be a buppie now. I could see this coming from a socioeconomic level, but part of me started to feel like my spirit and disposition was going the way of a buppie.

Buppie is the term used for Black Yuppies. And my generation is begining to explode with them. One of the most profound assertions in that Washington Post series on black men was the acknowledgement of the development-chasm. This current group of American black men are achieving greater success than ever before, but also stooping to the most depressing lows post-Reconstruction. The divide makes me emotional. It also shines a light on this new black-class.

Across the board, I tend to find buppies pretty insufferable. They behave like aristocrats, like elitist. And it's really on some BS. I used to love how us Howard folk called southeast Washingtonians "the locals". It was so haughty. Buppies operate in another world, too. Totally oblivious to things, so often. It's like, "One Question". So you can see why this realization that I might be a buppie -- in spirit -- troubles me.

So I'm embarking upon a public service of sorts. When you meet a buppie and they start giving you the buisiness or come with that "holier than thou" BS you can hit them these two sentiments, typified by two of my favorite movie lines of all time.

--- "Well, you somebody's nigga. Wearin this nigga tie."
We all know this gem from 40-Year-Old Virgin. It comes during an exchange at Smart Tech between a customer, played by Kevin Hart, and Smart Tech salesman Jay, played by the dude who played MC Hammer (Romany Malco). Hart's character hits Jay with this stinging character assesment and patronizingly flips Jay's tie when saying it, too. It stands as one of the most gangsta putdowns I've come across -- and I could write a book about how to put somebody down.

In this exchange, Hart is actually being the Initial Nigga. He's initiating nigga-behavior, by trying to guilt Jay into compromising his job by offering him (hart) a perk on his electronics purchase. Hart tries to subtly G his way into the perk, saying, "And I'm gonna need that 3-year warranty for the price of...'On the house.'" Niggas like to do that to other blacks. Unscrupulously use our common heritage/culture and skin-color to get some extras, even if its at the expense of professionalism and, ultimately, morality. Of course, whites take it one step further and don't even request these type of things, they tend to take it by instituting varying degrees of enslavement...but niggas always think they're being slick when they use the "We black" rhetoric.

Anyways, Hart says he wants the warranty "for the price of 'On the House'" (a hilarious line). Jay responds, "I can't do that." You can tell by how his head drops, voice lowers, eyes sink and posture slumps that he feels somewhat saddened by the reality that 1.) he has no power to hook this brotha up, and 2.) this black man would use this avenue to get over on him.

Hart is not impressed with Jay's principals. And he's a bit miffed that this fellow black man is upholding the rules of the establishment. So Hart says (here comes another gem), "Oh come on, now. Don't be a negro, be my nigga."

This sets Jay off. "Oh see, now, I ain't nobody's nigga." The buppie came screaming out of him.

Hart put the dude in his place though. Because Hart saw right through the buppie-indignation. Which is why he told Jay, "Well, you somebody's nigga. Wearin this nigga tie."

It was like, "Negro please. You aint nobody's nigga? You? Up in this electronics store rockin a uniform makin pennies on the dollar and YOU aint nobody's nigga? Quit the charade."

It's not that Jay should ever feel like he's somebody's nigga, but it was that buppie-selfrighteousness that caused Hart to react the way he did. See, Hart was a regular nigga in every sense of the word. The type of dude that purposely steps on a buppie's $1,000 shoes at the club, hopin the buppie wants beef. More than anything he had the "who do u seriously think u r" look on his face, even if it was totally uncalled for and his request for a warranty "for the price of 'On the House'" was as unscrupulous as it gets.

But, every now and then, Buppies need these cold buckets of water slapped across their sly-smirking grills every. In today's America, a buppie is still a nigga, trust that. A lot of times, these comments will incense a buppie, but they'll keep thinkin about it later on...maybe switch up their steez. "You know what, that dude was right. I am somebody's nigga."

I remember I was walkin down Connecticut Ave in downtown DC one afternoon. it was Feb 2001 and my nigga Rek had come visit me. We were on our way to the indie theater on 19th street. That's when a bum walked up and asked for some dough. I usually drop a black bum some change. Sometimes I even stand and kick it wit em for a second, I'm serious. But I had no change this day, so I said, "I can;t do nuttin for u man." He pressed though, but my answer reamined the smae. "Naa, dude, I have no change. It's not happenin." I probably got a little irritated and came off kinda siddity. That's when the bum stared me and rek down, raised his fist in a black-power salute and said i a sarcastic, yet disciplinarian manner, "Stay black brothas! Just stay black!" Then he dropped his fist and walked off the way black men walk off when they want u to know that they just put u in your place: he dropped both arms behind his back with his hands bent to form an 'L' with his forearms. Turned his body to the side and started sidesteppin backwards, never taking his eyes off us. It's a classic black-man move. It's like an emcee growling "m*thaf**ka" at the end of his verse or the way Miles would leave, like, 5 seconds of silent space after an especially piercing note. When the emcee punctuates his verse with the rated-R expletive, he's letting u know that what he spit should be taken in a very real way. Miles, outside of borrowing from Thelonious Monk's use of space and time, never had any real reason to leave that much space after one of his legendary notes of filth, but he'd leave that space to smugly let his point seep in. The Blackman's Sideways Retreat is a physical manifestation of this communication tactic.

Now, the black bum didn't know the first thing about me and Rek. Yeah, we had coffee in our hands and we were headed to an indie theater, but we were Timb'd up, too. and Rek was gnawing on one of his trademark chewsticks (he was a Gza-fan). But it was the way we reatced to this black bum. He prolly thought we didnt feel his struggle. Prolly thought we considered ourselves better than him (we obviously did). As far as he was concerned, that made us some Uncle Tom niggas and he implored us to "Stay Black", a common phrase in the community. By telling us to "Stay Black", when he obviously was really telling us to "Get Black", and by raising his fist ina "black power salute", then peering at us in the midst of the Black Man Retreat, it was his way of reminding us that we were "somebody's nigga".

Now, I don;t think Rek and I were on no buppie steez. Rek, actually, isnt a buppie at all. Not in a socioeconomic way and definitely not in spirit. And I wasn't a buppie at that time either (still dont think I am). But that encounter will stay with me forever. It was hilarious at the time and remains hilarious. But, aside from the comic-ripples, its been the only way I like to come at buppies: telling them to stay black. That was until recently, when these two movie lines slapped me all in the face.

So, next time a buppie is feeling themselves a little too much, remind them that -- in undoubtedly more aspects of their life then they'd care to admit -- theyre wearing a "nigga tie"

--- "You heard me, Coltrane."
Just absolutely, positively the most immortal, snide, sly, snarky, clever remark I've ever heard. Somehow, Gene Hackman and Wes Anderson found a way to use the last name of, perhaps, the greatest jazz musician ever as a racial epithet. A man (Coltrane) that had more soul than Donny Hathaway and Ossie Davis combined, was somehow flipped to be derogatory. It was genius.

This line occurred in The Royal Tennenbaums. I won't get into what the movie was about. But in this particular scene, Hackman (Royal Tennenbaum) is pressing Danny Glover about pushing up on his ex-wife. Since Hackman and his wife were seperated, Glover was moving in on Angelica Huston (Etheline Tennebaum). Glover played a character named Henry Sherman. He wanted to get with Etheline. In this instance, though, I can;t really call it the Good Life. I don;t think Sherman had a complex. But he was one of those black-bourgeosie niggas. He stayed in a suit. Rocked a bow-tie. Spoke an American's version of the king's english. he took himself very seriously. and he judged Royal. Royal was a cheat, he was selfish and he was coniving. Sherman had a hunch that Royal was using a fake sickness to procure housing from his family. Royal knew Sherman was onto him, knew Sherman thought he was better than him, knew Sherman was trying get at Etheline and didn;t take kindly to Sherman denuding him in front of his family.

So there was a scene in the kicthen. The ish was prepared to hit the fan. Sherman was ready to snitch on Royal and reveal his dishonest deeds. If I recall correctly, though, Sherman says something to Etheline. Hackman, in a fit of petty jealous asks Sherman, "You tryin to steal my woman?" Now, Etheline is not his woman, but this all gets at the white man's territorial protection of the white woman and the demand for black men to keep far away. Royal can;t stomach that this self-righteous, holy-rollin black man is tryin to get his ex-wife. So he asked Sherman the aforementioned question.

Sherman responded with an incredulous, nose-in-the air, "What?!?!"

Hackman puts on that sly grin of his, stared Glover down and snapped "You heard me, Coltrane"

GENIUS!!!!!! See, why call a bow-tie, suit wearin negro like Sherman a "nigga"? Doesn;t fit. Instead, Royal took both an artform and a man -- jazz and Coltrane -- associated with astute and progressive blacks and, in one genius-swoop, let Sherman know that I see right through the buppie exterior. "You heard me, Coltrane." or, in other words, "Don't get strong-n-sassy with me you high-post negro." In this case, it might have been more scathing than callin Sherman a nigga, because he put Sherman and his "looking-glass self" on the couch and chopped him down to size.

With this new generation of blacks, we got a lot of Coltranes walkin around. A lot of India Aries. And a buppie favorite is to ask rhetorical questions when they feel theyve been approached wrong or treated in a way that demeans their high character. They ask questions like, "Excuse Me?" Or "Beg your Pardon?" or "Are you kidding me?" or, simply, "What?"

That's when you let em know, "You heard me, Coltrane."

Music Dude tidbits

-- go kop the Pharrell tomorrow. I was thinking about warning my niggas about koppin, because Rell is such a chick caterer. I mean, this dude is the most hopeless romantic on the planet. And i stay faaaaaaaaarrrrrrr away from those dudes. It's why you'll never see me koppin Usher, Jaheim, Marques Houston or any other R&B nigga. I mean, first of all, their music is wack half the time, but even in cases like Usher, who can make OK music at times, the music is so overwhelmingly targeting woman that I there's no reason for a man to kop.

The thing about Pharrell is that his music is dope. And he has 7 hop trax that actually past the test. He's become a serviceable emcee...and i stress serviceable.

Either way, the production is magnificent. And he actually touches on a few topics of substance. As I've said before, dude is a favorite of mine, so he gets passes on certain things, such as his average singin skills. Ultimately, I can;t imagine a fan of black music pickin up this album and not being entertained, stunned at times even. Go kop.

-- (warning: the following might be pseudo-confessions) just thought it was interesting how some members of boy and girl-bands have grown up before our eyes. Timberlake has a track with Timberland that I bang in my whip, without fear of embarrassment, because its dope. He already shed a lot of those N-Sync garments after his first album. I'm not gonna come out an endorse dude, because 1.) he's a culture-vulture, and 2.) he's Justin Timberlake. But put it like this, if you ever catch my ipod on random, you're liable to hear some Timberlake.

I novel blogged about Omarion sometime ago. It happened after I heard "Touch" which might have been my favorite R&B song of 2005 (the list is not long, obviously). But he has a new joint. Another 80s sounding joint. A grown-up sound. Something I can see being played at 25-up lounge where me and some sweet-thang dance face-to-face. I'd put money on one of two things. Either 1.) Musiq wrote the song, or 2.) the song was originally written for Musiq. It sounds exactly like a typical Musiq track, which says a lot, becuase Soulchild is my nigga. (Speakin of which, can we get a Musiq album?).

Beyonce's new track w/Jay is hot, in my opinion. But she's established a track record of hot first singles, from "Work It Out" off the Austin Powers soundtrack to "Crazy In Love" off her first solo joint. Yall hear the bassline at the begginning of the track? Sounds a lot like "Don't Stop Till You Get Enough" right?

And the most intriguing 0f all these is Lil Bow Wow. I've never seen a little kid rapper stay relevant -- and when I say relevant I mean in today's hop, whose relevance is a different animal than what I deem relevant. But the fact is, Bow Wow now turns up on grown men's songs as a guest rapper. That's kinda crazy to me. When I saw this dude droppin a cameo verse on a 36Mafia track, I was kinda thrown for a loop. And his verse -- once again, by today's standards -- wasn't bad. I think he's reached a level where you can play Bow Wow tracks at a club. That's kinda sayin a lot right there. When has that happened in hiphop before? When a lil kid rapper stayed in the game long enough to be considered a real artist (artist used in relative terms). Kriss Kross couldnt do it. Shyheim couldnt do it (though he's stayed in-n-out of jail). Da Youngsters couldnt do it (though one of the dudes is a hot producer these days). I mean, remember, lil Bow Wow was like 8 or 9 when he stepped on the scene and spit "Around here we pop them collas, around here we get them dollas." Question, though: You think he writes his own ryhmes now?

-- response to the Jazz Survivor Series innaugural email blast was overwhelming. I found out that my boy JB, an old DC co-worker from Canada, now wakes up to Wayne Shorter, after I put him on a few years ago. My lil cousin Maxine said she was inspired to go write poetry. I had several people ask how they can kop Walt's album. The energy is crazy. Feel free to forward me some email addresses of others you think would appreciate being added to the list. Like I said, I'm trying to start a movement. Let's do this.

Blacks in the office

Last week there was an editorial in my paper that dealt with blacks in the office. Ya know: Do blacks have to act different act work? Do they have to tone down their blackness? Will acting naturally "black" hinder your advancement? etc, etc, etc.

The editorialist is a colleague of mine. The tone of his editorial was one of annoyed-confusion, like "Since when do blacks have "not act black" act work? I've never done anything remotely close to that and I'm a columnist at the largest paper in Florida."

I felt him. I felt that he was unapologetically him throughout his career. That's dope.

I've never met this man, though. Don't know how he gets down. He claimed he consistently discussed/debated social and racial issues with his white co-workers. He never changed his speech pattern. Once again, etc, etc, etc.

I know, for myself, there's a delicate balance. A fine line. I contend, with infallable certainty, that every black person -- especially those of us that grew up in the neighborhood, around friends and fam that grew up in the neighborhood -- we gotta do, at the very least, some small sort of assimilating. It's inevitable and, sadly, expected. Our culture is a sub-culture. The work culture is based on euro-western-white culture.

For instance, if you worked in a predominantly black office, where the execs were mostly black and the office-culture and atmosphere was set by these individuals and these individuals never spent time in the typical american office and hadn't been trained that "that office culture" was the only appropriate culture, I doubt that a manager saying "wuddup man" to a senior manager at the staff meeting would be viewed as inappropriate. Neither would a man with his har in locks. Neither would a million other things. It's interesting to look at the way your whte co-workers interact, especially same-sex co-workers when the standard for what is or isnt appropriate is relaxed a bit. They get away with...well, being themselves basically.

I mean, everyone is going to tone things down in the office. No one can get away with acting, at work, the way the do at a bar or at home with close freinds/fam. The point is, minorities -- besides, maybe, Asians who tend to be very conservative (stereotype?) -- have much more assimilating.

Some blacks take it too far, the assimilating. They go to whitewashing extremes and lose their individuality. They end up acting like a drone, a robot or some azz-kissing cartoon. Their antics make my penis hurt. These are always the soft niggas that wanna impose their weakness on you too. Start asking you questions about the way you act or appear. Or start making sly, veiled suggestions. Later for them.

Other blacks take it too far in the other way. They disregard what is reality -- that whites run the atmosphere and set the behavioral standards for appropriateness. Sometimes they do so on an agenda. Sometimes theyre just oblivious. Sometimes they're not capable of adaprting. But they end up looking like bufoons and getting branded then boxed.

You gotta find that balance, that medium, walk the line. I don't always succeed.

My Pops was always a study of the extremes. He had to survive an office full of racist white-ethnics. Sometimes, I'd hear him on the phone with a co-worker, maybe switching a shift, and the tone of his voice changed, his posture changed, the pitch changed. It was kinda embarrassing. Then other times he was purposely goading these dumb hicks into black-white conversations and trying to make them feel stupid and frustated...it was kinda mean-spirited. Somehow he's lasted over 30 years without 1.) killing himself; 2.) burning one too many bridges; 3.) growing tired of the charade.

What he always impressed upon me was two very important things.

1.) Don't let no jive white dudes come between you and that ducket.
What this meant was: never let assimilation come between you getting that check. You might have to change your steez a lil bit, but if thats what you gotta do to get that money, then do it and go get that money. He'd usually end this exhortation with a tip like, "And when you grab that check, just smile at the jive-white-lame and keep on steppin. Let em know, 'Naa, your lil foolhearted, bird-brain attempts to get in between me and these duckets ain't even workin. Get back, white-dude."

And, 2.) Don't let no jive white dudes run no games on you.
What this meant was, be you. But be you in an appropriate way. Sometimes powersthatbe try to use the status quo to really enslave the minority worker. Sometimes its in an abstract way, sometimes its in a very real way. But, pick your battles and stand your ground. If you're right, then you're right.

The professional circles I've ran in these past 7 years are very diferrent than the work environment my pops was subjected to. But the assimilation push-pull has been there in its own unique way.

I'm a media member now. We've always been asked to assimilate. Back in the early 1900s, mainstream newspapers would hire star-reporters away from the various black-press newspapers. You'd hope they were doing this to get a "black voice" or someone to provide another perspective to their all-white press corps. Instead, as research and history has shown, these newly hired black reporters were forced to assimilate into the already present culture, often numbing the unique voice/experience/perspective they were initially bringing over.

I don't really know how to characterize how I've behaved. Do I consciously assimilate? Yeah, to a certain extent. Do I do so to a degree that compromises me, Vince? I hope not. But its something that we always need to think about.

Be you, but be smart.

Music Dude mixtape

-- be on the look out for Lupe Fiasco and Roots album/artist features in my paper comin up soon, plus a jazz piece. Da Dude reppin in the Bay. chea.

-- Just finished listenin to the Pharrell Williams. As you all know, I believe he's the illest dude out right now when it comes to melding instrumental and vocal harmonies and melodies and arranging black music. One might say I have a music-crush on dude as a music-mind. One might also know I've been checkin for this album to drop since yesteryear. It would've been impossible for me to not like this joint, but definitely possible for me to just like it. But, I gotta say, I'm Pharrell-zealot. The album is on that ish that like. When it drops next Tues, go kop it. We may do a Music Dude novel-blog on it...but yall know how that go.

-- My girl May put me on to this new chick, Alice Smith. Corrine Bailey-Rae (May put me on to her months ago as well) is gettin a lot of critical love, but this Alice Smith chick is the honesty. Go kop.

-- Have I told you that Bilal's Love For Sale is the greatest singing album of my lifetime? I said that, right? I'm not coming up off that declaration. Check Questlove's myspace page for his live rendition of "Sometimes" at the Roots and Friends concert at Radio City.

-- Yall here that Promiscuous Girl remix? It features a Rick Ross intro thats tickling my fancy for some reason. That's not necessarily an endorsement, more like a Music Dude Confession.

-- Vino spent over $200 on a rare jazz album. He's a hoodlum.

-- I'm gonna buy a keyboard within the next few months and teach myself how to drop chords. I don't exactly know where this gonna lead. I just know its gonna lead somewhere that make this world a better place for humankind.

-- I've been trying to figure out the artist of that Run's House outro-track with tenor sax-symph. If I can get that on mp3...I mean, it'd probably add a year to my life. 5 minutes of that on loop is sustenance.

-- My girl Megs has some music you can buy her myspace page. She's a talent. Go kop.

-- Its been a couple years now and I'm STILL not tired of a good crisp clap. RIP Dilla.

-- Speakin of Dills. The Shining will be in stores next week. You know Twist already had the drop on it though (looks, Larry!). It's Dills. My favorite producer of all-time. Kop.

-- I met this young nigga named Ronald Bruner about 4 years ago. I was at Blues Alley checkin Kenny Garrett, the greatest living jazz musician younger than 55. Young Bruner was a ripe 18, playin the skin off his drum set. I got his digits after the set so I could track his career. But you how Twist do. Lost my cell. For four years I tried to track dude down. Finally did. He and his brother, Stephen (bassist), and some fellow youngsters from Compton dropped an album in 2004. I kopped. Been listenin nonstop for the past couple days. It makes the blood flow through my veins with a healthy velocity. Go kop.

-- I been listenin to sporadic Massive Attack records lately. I'm a fan, a new fan.

-- Remember Soul II Soul. Chea.

-- Yall know I got a Rock Sensei, right? Someone that's been offering me suggestions, helping me wade through the masses. Here was one of his suggestions..

Afghan Whigs, Gentlemen: As cinematic and sprawling as alternative guitar rock gets, plus a little touch of white-boy soul and R&B. Debonair and What Jail is Like rule, but this is a full-bodied listen from beginning to end.

I kopped. I digs.

-- Yall know I'm a jazz-guardian. I've made disciples over the years. Starting this Friday, though, in an attempt to grow the 40-under jazz listening community, I'm gonna start email blasting one track every Friday. That's all I'm sayin for now. So, if I have your email, expect an email this Friday. This might get big. I'm feelin strong about his right now.

-- Music Dude Confession: I've always Def Leopard's "Pour Some Sugar On Me".

Paris Hilton

Wait, Paris Hilton is a singer now? Word?

When I saw that skinny bish was gonna be in a movie with Elisha Cuthbert, bka Kim Bauer and a Good-Life prospect, I was like, "Wait, Paris is an actress now?" Didn't matter that the flick was warm-garbage, what mattered was that Paris was koppin flick roles. It kinda mystified me, you know, what people saw in her, other than her celebrity, which mystified me even more, you know, her celebrity and how she got it. That sex-tape couldn't have been that much of a q-rating bonanza.

But, I'm thinkin that everybody tries to turn mild to grand celebrity into acting, ya know. Especially in Hollywood. But crossing over to the mic is much harder. Many have failed, as we know. I mean, do yourself a favor and go kop that Eddie Murphy video off youtube.com. An atrocity and blemish on humankind. That's what it was.

As far as Paris goes. I'm thinking there's no way this broad tries to get on the mic and hit some c-flats. it's just not in her cards. Doesn't she know that a wack record can ruin a career much easier than a c-movie can? Her handlers have to know that, right? I'm thinkin this is the case. Yet, I'm on Billboard and I see some ad for her new single. Yep, her new single. My body reacted violently to that news, when I swallowed my coffee, it tasted like a sh**shake. I checked the Hot 100 and see that her single, Stars Are Blind, has been out for 3 weeks, is a respectable No. 30 and even peaked at 18.

So, I had to go check the video. You can imagine my disbelief when the video begins with a pan-shot of a beach shore and a cascading wave and then some soft, yet very cliche, reggae/carribean rythms start seeping out my speakers. It was Paris trying to pull of what Gwen Stefani barely pulls off. I was appalled. But I was also shocked, in a good way. I would've thought Hilton would come out with one of two songs; 1.) a song about other famous white girls hating on her, the media being mean to her and the paparazzi bothering -- all in the name of jealousy; or 2.) some club track that with overtly risque lyrics like, "I lose control when I here this song, come close and punch it in all night long", only they go on TRL and say it's a metaphor for their love of dance and music.

She did neither. Instead, it's just her and a model on the beach and she's singing in a breezy tone to a breezy melody that, here comes a revelation, sounds better than anything Hilarry Duff or Lyndsay Lohan put out. That's not saying much, I know that. But it's saying alot for Hilton. My point is that, I doubt she bombs with this one. I don't see why most of the buying public sheep, people with absolutely no taste for good music and a common-denominator approach, won't be satisfied with songs like that.

If it comes on my radio, I'm turnin it off. If the video comes on, I'm turning it off. But I gotta say, Paris surprised me. I thought she would be woefully bad, like 10 times worse that Hilarry Duff, the way Eddie Murphy was 10 times worse than Milli Vanilli.

True, shame on America for givin this broad such a sweeping artistic forum and niggas like Jeffrey Wright can't get a gig and Bilal can't get Love For Sale (greatest singing album produced since I was born) released. I mean, that's truly despicable. But props to Paris for meeting the low bar.

The Commish presents: 10 Greatest Point Guards in NBA History

(Note: Remember I said I was gonna novel-blog on this? Well I had started the list way back in May, saved it and never finished. I explain why further down. Anyways, here's what I've got thus far.)

My first sports hero was Magic Johnson. I think most of you know that and know why, as well. Long story short, though: I grew up in the 80s. I also grew up, basically rooting for whomever my Pops rooted for. In the 80s, that meant the Georgetown Hoyas and Los Angeles Lakers. And it all had to do with his version of black power.

The Hoyas were coached by a defiant big black hulk: Grandpa John Thompson. They played mean and nasty. Everyone that came after them -- Arkansas' 40 Minutes of Hell, UNLV's gangsta squad, Fab Five -- they got their swagger from those early Gtown teams, on thru the Alonzo squad, on thru the 90s Iverson squad. But check this: The Bad Boy Pistons, 90s NY Knicks and the physical, stingy defensive NBA squads also got alot of their strut and ideology from those Gtown teams. It was a historic program and Granpa John was a historic figure that represented, perhaps, the first strong-black figure on a collegiate bench. You knew my Pops was riding with that squad, if for no other reason than the aforementioned social significance...they also happened to be really, really good.

But more than anything, the LA-Boston battles represented a lot of social/racial issues in this country. It's been well documented, so no need to get into to indepth. But it's from here that, I think, Pops rooted for LA so fervently. In fact, I know it is. He'd tell me. So, naturally, the Lakers were my squad, too. And, Magic was by far my favorite player. He remains my favorite athlete ever.

What I'm gettin at is this point guard list. I told you a while ago I was gonna be postin this list and in that blog I told u that I know point guards better than I know anything else sports related. That's because Magic was a point guard and I spent COUNTLESS hours examining and reexamining his games. Every nuance, every intricacy, every abstract idea, every intangible. My Pops friends used to call me Stat Man, because I'd memorize NCAA, NBA and NFL players statistics like I was some pseudo-John Nash. I was also the only one of my peers that would get invited into the grown-up sports discussion. This isn't one of my many delusions, this is striaght up. I'd be like 10 or 11 years old and men were askin me things like, "Lil Vince, whatchu think about KJ?" Then I'd talk and they'd listen. When discussions had anything to do with point guards from that time, until this day, I get on some encyclopedic/Hubie Brown steez.

So when I you read this list, as always, take it as biblical fact. We're startin from 10 and working our way to 1. Ya dig? Let's get it...

Top 10 Greatest Point Guards in NBA History

10. Air Raid: You remember that commerical. The commercial for the Nike Air Raids. The ill joints with the big, clunky, gray, velcro 'X'? Know what the 'X' stood for? Yeah, nigga. Remember that commercial? 'Member Tim Hardaway on his native Chicago playground breakin niggas ankles with the "Killer Crossover" (that's what the 'X' stood for, coincidentally or not) before Iverson and Kobe made it pop-culture-popular. As sick as Ive was with his crossover, it'll never be as dope as Tim's. Why? Because it wasn't as controlled. Some of my peers might only have true vivid memories of the Tim in the latter part of his Miami career, after a couple knee injuries had wore on his lateral mobility and he turned into more of a perimeter player.

But in that nigga's heyday, it was a wrap. What seperated his crossover from Ive's is that Tim's was more controlled. AI always had the habit of dribbling especially high, so as murderous as his crossover was, it wasn't as efficient as Tim's. And Tim remains the strongest finishing little man ever, in my estimation.

But why Tim instead of KJ or Nash or some older cats like Lenny Wilkens or JoJo White? Tim was one of the games clutches players ever. EVER. How many games did he win? How many fourth quarters did he drop 12 points or 8 in the final 5 minutes. Sun was a force. And he ran his squad with moxie. His career numbers of about 18 points and 8 assists aren't necessarily indicative of his career. He had a good 6 or 7 years stretch where he was doing close to 20 and 10 which is unheard of now, and only him, KJ, Zeke and Magic did so in the 1980-93 era. Here's my test: If I put Timmy on that Barkley Suns squad that lost to the Bulls in 6, Pheonix wins the championship. KJ was my favorite player for the beginning of the 90s, Tim was 2nd. But in hindsight, Tim was that dude. Pheonix wouldve been tougher with Tim. He wouldve done something to help Barkley, maybe even more so than Barkley, to get that team some Ws, instead of the Bulls winning 4 in a row. KJ was never known as especially tough or clutch. Tim was. And he's the 10th greatest point guard of all-time.

9. Lil Nate: Sometimes I get a little skittish about getting really authoritative when it comes to players that didn't play in my era. But here are things that rarely lie -- stats and significance. Nate "Tiny" Archibald has those on lock. The season we hear about all the time, that sort promotes Tiny's legacy, is the 72-73 season. It's the year he led the league in scoring and points which is just ridiculous. He averaged 34 points and 11 assists. That's a numbing statline right there. But lets look at this season a bit, because there are aspects of that can make u appreciate that season or undermine it.

First, he shot over 26 times per game. That's about the same clip as Kobe shot this season and people derided Kobe as a hog. But then again u got those 11.4 assists, which wouldve have led the league this season and most of the seasons for the past 10 years. Four of his teammates averaged close to double figures or more, so he distributed the ball. But his squad was like 36-46...it was basically a bumsquad, which was probably a bit helter-skelter, which could lead to some bloated stats for a superior player that controlled the ball. Whatever, though. That season was that season. Can't front on that. Any season that he wasn't mucked by an injury he was stellar. His stats, however are schewed because his final season he played in Boston, in an auxillary role on contender squads.

But alot of what goes into being great, is stuff like impact. As you'll see as you go down the list, I place a lot of importance on impact, trailblazing and influence. Tiny was the precursor for Isaiah Thomas. Think about that. Tiny is also a godfather of sorts for the New York City point guard (Kenny Anderson, Mark Jackson, Steph Marbury, Andre Barrett, Terrance Roberson, Lil Bassy, we could on and on and on (Grnarls!)). That type of impact is huge and Tiny is the 9th greatest point guard in NBA history.

8. Sideburns Clyde: The fact that he was the coolest shutyomouth on the planet in his heyday, doesnt really mean much for this list. But he was this: the second greatest defensive point guard in history. That means a lot. Point guards' responsibilities aren't just on the offensive side. A huge resposnibility (that not every pg does/did well) is to pressure the opposing point guard. Just as it's your responsibility to run your team's offense, you gotta disrupt the other squads offense, too. Clyde was a smooth beast when it came to puttin the clamps on a nigga.

Now, his offensive stats weren't incredible, especially his assists numbers. But he played many season with Earl Monroe, one of, probably the top 10 pure guards of all-time. They shared team-running duties. Jerry Lucas and smart players like Bill Bradley and Dave Debusshere helped facilitate the offense a lot too. But Clyde essentially kept that squad humming and he was the "creator", another hallmark of a great point guard.

And ultimately he was 6'4, 200-lb, defensive point guard, runnin the show and grabbin boards. really the first of his kind and the precursor for the nest two niggas on this list. And for these reasons he's the 8th greatest point guard of all time.

7. Ason: I love this nickname, courtesy my nigga Chuck. Ason "No J" Kidd, as in "no jump-shot". That's hilarious. But you know what's real funny? Kidd hit those jumpers with the games on the line. Homeboy was clutch.

J was actually an aquired test for me, if you can imagine that. I used to get Bob Gibbons scouting reports and read up high school prospects and scour Street Smith season previews during the summer. Kidd was touted as the greatest point guard prospect since Magic Johnson, and I don't think he dissapointed in the end. But as I watched him during his frosh year at Cal, I found myself underwhelmed. It was a crazy oversight on my part. His game wasn't necessarily slick like KJ or Tim or Kenny Anderson. He didn't really know how to score. His shot was ugly. He wasn't spectacular on the break. Instead of dribbling 4/5 of the court, increasing the degree of difficulty for a conversion, and then whippin a no look, he'd grab a board or get a steal and shoot out a quick outlet, that lead his teammate to the exact spot he needed to be in to get the easiest bucket. It was genius and a bit over my head at the time. In the halfcourt set he wouldn't always knife into the paint and kick out some John Elways pass to the three-pt shooter on the bassline. A lot of times he'd be at the top of the key, get a pass from one wing and immediately whip it across for an opponent that didn't necessarily seem open -- usually Lamond Murray -- for a three. Everything Kidd did was the right thing at the right time. Now, obviously he forced action sometimes and turned the ball over, but not much. So when me and Pops were watching young J and Cal upset Hurley and Duke, I remember Dad saying something like, "That young boy nows exactly what to do, Vince. It's uncanny." I had been served notice.

In the NBA it's been simply this: no player, save maybe Magic, has ever controlled the tempo/pace of a game like Kidd. And other than Mashburn, no player ever played better than when they played with Kidd. From his days in Dallas to Phoneix to Jersey, his teammates level of play always goes up two or three notches. That's a hallmark of a great point guard. It's what makes Nash's case for greatness compelling. The difference between a player like Nash and player like Kidd, is that Kidd did EVERYTHING on the offensive end as good or better than Nash (outside of the whole jumper thing, but it's not like that results in Nash scoring more than Kidd), but J also played lockdown defense (Nash is a defensive liability), J had a mean post-up game, J plays big minutes (coaches have to actually watch out for Nash playin more than 36 minutes which is ridiculous for a supposed franchise player)..and oh, for about the past six or seven seasons, J has averaged about 7 boards per game, which he usually takes down the other way for a bucket or assist. Ason is the 7th greatest point guard in NBA history.

6. Ed Josey: My nigga Gary Payton -- aka G.P., aka The Glove -- is my second favorite pro-baller of my lifetime. That's right. And that's no bull either. After Magic retired, I had several flings: KJ, Tim Hardaway, Kenny Anderson. I'd toggle back and forth. But GP was my nigga from about 1993-1999. Not even Iverson has held my top spot for that long (AI was like 1999-2003)...and I was probably still callin GP my dude from 1999-2000, not yet quite ready to offer my top-spot devotion to my nigga AI. But that says alot about me and GP. He's my all-time No. 2 dude from 1979-now. Not Zeke, not AI, definitely not cornball-backwards kango-republicans buy shoes too-MJ...GP. In fact, I loved this nigga's game, swagg and steez so much, i was so enthralled with it for a good 10 years, that it's taken me close to two months to start this section of the list. I got through Nos. 10-7 way back in mid-May, all in one day. I got to GP and froze because I didn't feel eloquent or vibrant enough to truly express what I thought about his career, so I saved a draft of this post and kept it movin. To tell you the truth, I don't why I chose to revisit it tonight.

It's funny, but my first recollection of GP was during my first year as a Sports Illustrated subscriber. Before the Fall of 1989, I would ask Pops to buy certain joints (the one with Chris Jackson on the cover, the one season-previews, a Bills joint, any Lakers joint, etc.) and others I'd bum off some of my rich classmates that had subscriptions (they weren't really rich, just white). But in 1989 I convinced Pops to kop a 3-year subscription. One of the first that rolled around was this joint in Feb of 1990 with GP snarling on the cover and the words "College Player of the Year" encircling a basketball he was dribbling. The caption read something like "Oregon State's Do-Everything, Say-Anything Point Guard." Do-Everything was prophetic, because, although he was killing em in college, I'm sure there werent may that thought he'd pull off seasons like the 99-00 joint when he dropped 25, dished 9 and grabbed 7. So niggas need to get of LeBron's deek and recognize what Gary was doing some years back (I'm obviously, for arguments and devotion's sake, ignoring the fact that Bron will probably average 30-8-8 for the next 10 years).

They called him Say-Anything because the article dwelled on how dude never stopped yappin. The early 90s was the dawn of trash-talkin -- in terms of geek-sportswriting white dudes being aware of it. It semi did the league in, from a publicity stand point. UNLV niggas was screamin and scowling after boards. Fab Five niggas was was constantly yappin and jawin. They all brought that into the NBA, but GP was doin that before them -- in terms of it being on a grand stage, in an unapologetic way. He was the pioneer of that movement. Except, he did it cooler and doper.

Anyways, back to that Feb issue of SI....When you're like 11 and your bedtime is stuff like, "When Different World goes off" or "When In Living Color Goes off" or "After that Georgetown game ends" (unless a Lakers game or Monday Night Football is on), then you don't get to see too many Pac-1o games. I mean, I was like a teen, still sneaking around, staying up late to watch Harold Miner. And Oregon State, even if they were a top 10 that year, wasn't gettin no TV time on ESPN...matta fact, I don't think we had ESPN in 89. Either way, as a point guard fanatic, I read this story about this trash-talkin point guard from Oakland that played for Oregon State and I was sold. Plus his pictures looked cool. He just looked like a bad nigga. And on an inside pic he was driving, had this snarl on his face and the ball cocked in this ill way. I started checking local listings after the story ran and caught dude on a Saturday CBS game against Arizona and he dropped 33 points and had like 8 steals. Do the math, then do the knowledge. I was solder than sold.

So I rode with him from then on. No. 2 pick in the 1990 draft behind my nigga Derrick Coleman. A rough rookie season under KC Jones. That bonehead had Sedale Threatt running point like it was even close to what was up. But he got axed in 91 and George Karl took over later in the season. Next thing you know, GP was runnin the show. By 1993 -- Magic now 2 years into AIDS rehab, Zeke retired, KJ always injured (plus he was kinda soft in a white-boy kinda way which is never good for a nigra), and Hardaway out a full season with a knee injury -- GP became my full-fledge dude.

As a point guard, he was Walt Frazier, except a nastier defender, much better scorer and every bit the offense-orchestrator. For a good 5 years, he was the undisputed best point guard in the league. And, during those same years he was considered (other than Jordan and maybe Pippen) the best non-bigman in the league. Effin right, too, 'cause dude slayed me on so many diferrent levels. The things that use to kill me about GP was stuff like his post-game. Dude was the sickest post-up guard -- sub 6'5 -- in league history. He literally ran the offense out of the post like he was Magic or somethin. He also had the best left hand since Larry Bird and the illest floater ever. Straight up. PLus little things killed me too, like the way he would cock his head to the side when niggas use to press him on D, then he would smirk it all made up this aura like "nigga, get real. I'm not even fadin you, right now. next." His scoop shot was old-school. And the way back smaller guards down the court, with his head wobbling in the most arrogant of ways, was the new-school version of Earl The Pearl's steez when he used to bring the ball up.

Much like my Top 7 Hip Hop Producers List, G.P. doesn't crack the Top 5 for the same reason Pete Rock (my fav producer ever) didn't crack the Top 3: all the guards that I'm listing above GP impacted basketball in monumental ways. And this is not a "favorites" list or "best" list. It's a "greatest" list...and impact counts for almost as much as skill and accomplishment. These will be dudes that change the way basketball was played in a CONSPICUOUS way. But there's still a large part of me that says I'd pick GP over everyone besides Magic and Zeke if I had to win a game tomorrow.

Here's the problem...I'm done writing for tonight, so the Top 5 list must wait.

Coming soon...

I didn't forget that I had some album revs coming up, yall just gotta 'lax for da dude real quick...I got a new phrase that pays for ur lexicon: illies, i'll add the definition to the link soon...New dream involving Charlie Murphy, TI and two women. One looked like Della Reese, the other like Mo'Nique. It was sheer ridiculousness...Chivalry: Where did it go and when did it happen. Twist has the answers.

novel-blogs comin soon....