Dunkadelic.

Crazy dunks have happened as of late. Let's take a gander.

One, Josh Smith won a game on a dunk. Epic, y'all.

And then Amar'e Stoudemire eats souls. I watch this dunk through my fingers. "Iiiiis iiiiit oooooveeerrrr yeeeeeet?"


And then Terrico White for the Ole Miss Rebs punches one. Seriously. Knocked that shit out.


Have fun, wieners!

(Videos via BDL, Slamonline, and my own damn self.)

Andrew Bogut kindly asks that you not wear bling

OMG! BOGUTFUNK!


I used to hate Andrew Bogut. I really did. Besides being the NBA player who most resembles Ashlee Simpson, he seemed to revel in the fact that he plays on the most boring team in the League (boring level changed once Brandon Jennings arrived). For instance, he once voiced an opposition to players flaunting their wealth. GUHHHHH This dipshit still says "Bling Bling!" What fucking year is this?! What a shitstain.

Sorry. I tend to lose it when I read that. Anyway. Enter Cartier Martin.

/Googles "Cartier Martin"

Mr. Martin here is apparently named after a bejeweled watch. No wonder Bogut felt it necessary to not only buttfuck him in front of an audience of DOZENS, but to also include a bitchslap in the process.

Cartier, if your NBA profile still has you in your D-League uniform, and your face smells of Australian sheep sex, you may want to consider grad school. Just some advice.

Nothing This Cool Ever Happened In Your High School.

I was going to write something clever or witty here. But...

I just... Just watch.

For reference, the dunker is 6'0". The dunkee is 6'8". Go home, big cat. Good luck getting a date to prom.

Friday Afternoon Fun Bag!

For as much as I hate Drew Gooden (except for his brief stint in San Antonio), he gets a lot of love on GRH. I should change my opinion on him, since he's a goofball, but fuck it. Hatehatehate.

Oh yeah. It's on, now. YOYOYO FRIDAAYYYY.

So to get things started off on the right foot, here's the best 25 dunks from the 2008-2009 NBA season.

You can catch the entire top 100 here.

Andrew W.K. is a GRH favorite. Not only because of his staunch party advocacy, but because we especially like celebrity weather reports.


Here's something bizarre from Europe.

Tyson Chandler is no longer on the Hornets. Actually, now he's on our team. We're glad to have him on board.


Young Kobe Bryant + youngER Amanda Bynes. Lots of Screaming.


Our love of Ron Artest is pretty blatant. This is him recounting what happened at the "Malice at the Palace." Not crazy enough yet? Fine. He's doing it in China.


To continue the sexiness that Zack started below, here's Fanny Lu.


Yes. I'm jacked now. Let's kick some ass.

GRH Book Club: Boyz N The Hood.

INCREASE THE PEACE

Ok, ok, ok. I know it’s not a “Sports Movie.” Hear me out.

Sports plays a large factor in the movie, and plays a pivotal role in the development of one of the central characters. Plus, it kind of connects to a lot of current things, so, shut up and listen.

Boyz N The Hood is the coming to age story of Tre Styles, Ricky Baker, and Doughboy Baker, following them from childhood up to the cusp of adulthood, in the poverty-ridden environment of south-central Los Angeles. The three take essentially the three different paths available to those of this plight.

Tre, raised until the age of eleven by his mother (who earns a master’s degree and becomes a denizen of a higher social status), is taken in by his father, Furious. His life is maintained by a strict code of ethics set forth from his father, with words of wisdom like, “any fool can make a baby, but it takes a man to be a father.” Tre has a job, excels in school, and is ambitious and driven enough to make college a reality.

Doughboy, played aptly by Ice Cube (the dude that makes family movies?!), is the opposite. In and out of prison, his life is consumed by drugs, alcohol, and the perpetual and cyclical violence which he himself perpetuates, and succumbs to, postscript.

Tre’s best friend and Doughboy’s half-brother is Ricky Baker. This is where the movie intersects with our interests. Ricky has been sports-obsessed since a young age and is now an All-American Running Back for Crenshaw High School, is highly touted and recruited to play the position at USC. Ricky is not without his setbacks. Like of many of the same young men in his situation, he is already a father, and does not excel in school. When the recruiter comes to talk to Ricky, he is obviously put off by the young son, and sends Ricky into a spiral of self-doubt when he mentions that Ricky must score at least a seven hundred on the SAT to be eligible to play at Southern Cal.

Tre is the exception whose eyes we see the movie through. He has two supportive parents and seemingly only has the weakness of female attention. Doughboy and Ricky, on the other hand have the same mother, but we know nothing else of their fathers. Crime is the only avenue that Doughboy seems destined for, and football is the only outlet – and way out – for Ricky. This seems to be a prevailing notion, for when the USC recruiter comes to visit Ricky, one of Doughboy’s associates asks for a scholarship, saying, “I want to go to college, too.”

I won’t spoil the end for those of you that would like to know where it goes, but needless to say, it’s not a feel-good movie.

What got me on this line of thinking is a game that tips off here in a little less than an hour. How many times in the last weekend have you read something about how great it would be for the state of Michigan if Michigan State were to win tonight? Seriously, how many? It’s all anybody can talk about, really. I’m not trying to take anything away from the accomplishments of the Spartans, they’ve done very well, and been pretty fun to watch. OMFG! FUNK!

What I don’t want is for sports to be the only thing that these people have to cheer about. I don’t want people in Detroit, Flint, or any other impoverished Michigan community thinking that sports is the only thing that can heal a community that has been ailing for decades.

Maybe I’m reading to much into it, maybe I’m just being a jerk, but it seems to me like it’s just a scrap of happiness being thrown their way, while the real pervasive problems of their society go largely ignored.

Put it another way. In the words of Doughboy, “Just goes on and on, you know? Either they don’t know, don’t show, or don’t care about what’s going on in the hood.”

Friday Afternoon Fun Bag!

Shit. What is this? A blog? Hmm. Ghost of Roy Hooooooobbbs. Mmm, don't really remember it, sorry.

Which is my way of saying yes, I know it's been forever since I've produced something, for which I am terribly sorry. But anyways, on with the fun!

So the Hornets have yet to perfect the whole "Entertain fans while the game is going on" thing. In fact, due to their spectacular failures in this field, they have earned quite the reputation to the tune of getting fined tens of thousands of dollars on the regular. But they sure try, don't they?


You've probably already seen this, but it's phenomenal. Best dunk of March, by far.


I sure hope no crazy hos accuse Kobe of doing stuff he didn't do anytime soon, because I'm really starting to love his personality.


Speaking of personality from perennially hated NBAers, here's this.

BONES!

And on that note, even more. God bless H.E.B. for making these.


Shit yes! High of eighty and not a cloud in the sky, not even protesters can stop me today.

A tale of two collegiate athletes

YammaHamma!
So after watching this play several times, you may conclude that the dunker is destined for greatness, destined to take the world's breath away with death-defying dunkery. Maybe even something greater.

You'd be right. 15 on the baby blues did shock and awe the world with his athleticism and his nose for the hoop. Now, he's kind of broken down, a shell of himself. Vince Carter, we hardly knew you.

What about the guy getting flushed on? The guy that was too slow on the backside help? The one without enough hops to even remotely challenge VC's flush? He did alright. He finished college, got his degree. He was subsequently drafted with the number one pick, and has four rings under his belt. Tim Duncan, we still know you.

So I'm not sure why, but I thought it would be nice to look back today. More than a decade after the fact, we see these two superstars in very different lights. From beasting on competition in the ACC, they have gone on to win gold medals, inspire people, and make millions of dollars. Vince was the biggest draw in the NBA from 1999-2001. Timmy's definitely headed for the hall, and the fifth Spurs number to be retired (he will also someday kill that rat bastard John Connor). The artist formerly known as Vinsanity has a far different legacy, for better or worse.

Tyrus Thomas - Posterboy.

Tracy McGrady has been hated on a lot lately.

People saying things like, "His eye isn't the only thing that's lazy" and stuff like that.

With the perpetually banged-up Rockets still deep in the playoff hunt, Mac has still been hated on.

Tracy had it. He had it right up to here. He is sick and fucking tired of you all saying that he's washed up, his back is always hurt, and that he can't lead a team out of the first round of the playoffs.

Fuck you, said Mac. Fuck all of you! He needed to show all of you doubters that he still has it. That while raining silky j after silky j is fun and easy, he can still take it to the rack and flush, even with his off hand.

But that wasn't enough! It needed to be more. It needed to be poignant. Can't just beat a man and flush with the left, it needed that extra panache to show that Mac isn't perpetually hurt, hasn't gone soft.

In stepped Tyrus Thomas. T2 has made a living off of being an athletic freak with no fear. Long, strong, and with a great leaping ability, he reminded Mac of his more youthful self. It was time to shut the door on the past, thought Tracy. Time to show everybody that this, new Tracy McGrady, will not back down, not curl over and die, none of that.

He'll look the challenge right in the eye and say, "The check's in the mail."

If you thought Earl Clark didn't like flattops...

Andre Iguodala apparently hates Yao's flattop more.

For the past three summers, Andre Iguodala has been the leader of the USA Select Team. This job entails several things. One, being athletic. A huge part of being on USA Select is that you have to run. All the time. It is up to you to give something the Kobes and LeBrons need to keep up with. You are the goddamn rabbit on the dog track.

Being a leader and also a 2 on the Select team also means one big thing. You get to guard Kobe. Day in, day out. You on Kobe. It's the worst job in sports. Worse than Gus Triandos trying to catch Hoyt Wilhelm's knuckleball. Can you imagine how bad chasing Kobe Bryant around all day would be? And you don't get any calls? And when you finally get to be on offense you can only do fast breaks?

Fuck that shit.

What was Andre Iguodala's reward? Nothing. Not a fucking thing. Everybody else gets to go to Beijing and put on a spectacular show and get feted and adored by the entire world. And Iggy Pop gets a pat on the back, and sent back to Philadelphia.

So now. Half a world and half a year later, he sees this fucking Chinese flattop looking at him. Iguodala's response? Please see above. Air-to-hoop Iggy Pop.

Jarrett Johnson Has Come To Make You Quit The Game.

There are many ways to be embarrassed on a basketball court. If you get crossed over so bad you fall down, that's bad. Nutmegs are rare, but almost worse. Getting dunked on happens so often that it doesn't seem like it's that bad.

And then something like this happens.

I've been dunked on once. Just once. I came back down on the offensive end and dropped some kid by setting a pick and putting my shoulder into his face. Not perfect retribution, but at least enough to let those Duncanville pricks know that I wasn't a punk (if I recall correctly, it was fellow GRHer Allen Houston blowing a defensive assignment that led to me getting flushed on).

But I digress. What do you do to come back from something like this? Remember those hyperdunk commercials that got banned in some spots for being seen as anti-gay? This is worse than every dunk they talked about in those commercials. I mean this is really, really bad.

That kid who got yakked on needs to go ahead and forget that he ever played basketball.

Watch it again. I screamed when I first saw it happen.

Mad bonus points for Johnson giving fives to the crowd afterwards.

Earl Clark Cares Not For Luke Harangody's Flattop

Not since Brian Cardinal have we seen somebody look this 'tarded while playing college hoops in Indiana. Well, I've seen plenty of people look 'tarded in Indiana playing college hoops since Cardinal. Let me start over.

Luke Harangody is a goon-ass goon that needs to get dunked on day in and day out until he stops showing up and uglying up my television while I'm trying to watch basketball. Seriously, he has a white-boy flattop. Don't bother fixing your style, Luke. Just quit.

Earl Clark agrees with me. I honestly don't care who's on the receiving end of this, it was just an awesome dunk all over somebody's face. It was also beautiful in its simplicity: catch it on the wing, pump fake, go left, flush. Seriously, the look on Harangody's face says it all. Anyways, the clip starts out with it, then we have to see some bullshit, but then it ends with two replays from different angles.

Splendid.