The College Hoops Gazette

| January 13, 2008 - January 19, 2008 »

January 09, 2008 - On The Beauty of Friendship & the Pain of Throat Lesions

Hey come on now! What does a guy have to do to get a little attention around here! No TV exposure in weeks is making me feel like some sort of walk-on, a bench-warmer, an Italian with a bad face job shilling pizza so bland it makes his ancestors spin in their graves -- right next to my great friend Jimmy Valvano's ancestors spinning in their graves too! It's true! Our ancestors, they're right there together, spinning in those Italian graves over my never-ending references to my friendship with the one-and-only V during his last years -- years I was so honored to be such a great help to the whole family! I was!

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January 07, 2008 - Doyle Classic: Meeting Journey's Steve Perry

The story of my encounter with Perry. Place: Jakarta, Indonesia. Time: March, 1989. Feel: Muggy, jagged, wired, exhausted.

I am working for a group that shall remain unnamed. I'm sleeping in a finer hotel on the beach just outside the city center. My companion is a sweet little thing who is deaf, I think, but I am not sure. We lounge. At the time I am partial to a red thong swimsuit and am wearing it one morning by the pool with my little friend drinking sweet liquor and eating hard-boiled eggs off of her back. From the very corner of my vision I see a flash of movement above the water and turn my egg-encrusted face just in time to see a lithe figure disappearing into the water. You know how it is that we become experts at judging Olympic divers every four years - breaking down their form, their entries? Well, this aquatic creature would've received a 7 or 8 from me on my ballot. No splash, pointed toes, the whole nine.

I resolve to continue my meal, and I swish my mai tai around my mouth to clear out some of the yoke stuck between my pearlies. While swishing, I notice the figure that I'd seen disappearing into the water so effortlessly is a man. The guy is wearing the same red thong suit that I am and I get a little miffed that he'll spoil my standing with little baby doll, who I am now calling, affectionately, Little Bun. When I notice the "roll of quarters" he's shining, I relax a little and go back to my meal. Just as Iím starting my balancing act, I pause. I say to myself, "It cannot be!" I am frozen prostrate over the precarious orb, unable to move. I shoot another glance at our aquatic interlocutor with the long dark hair of silk and the chipped front chomper and the pleading brow and I am dumbstruck. I am speechless. It is Perry, Perry the Very. There are no words that can touch upon my devotion, my absolute desire to BE Steve Perry at this point in my life. The sun feels like it's hovering feet above my head...I go prickly and start to sweat.

Little Bun turns to me and gestures quizzically with her eyes...

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