A stroll through the NBA box scores in the daily newspaper is more shocking than ever today because of the sheer numbers of European players now dotting the landscape.
Usually very tall and much more fundamentally sound than today's American slashers and dashers and dunkers, the white European players are in demand for all NBA teams and many college teams.
The following names were gleaned from NBA rosters in one recent day's NBA box scores:
Nowitzki, Khryapa, Tskitishvili, Milicic, Krstic, Planinic, Drobnjak, Gadzuric, Kukoc, Nachbar, Kirelenko, Radmanovic, Turkoglu, Ilgauskus, Pavlovic, Brezec, Jaric, Igoudala, Giricek, Cabarkapa, Stoyakovic.
With that in mind, I can envision a letter home to mom and dad from a future European star tasting the NBA's big time for the first time.
Dear Krasnoyarsk and Syktyvkar in Siberia:
It so nice to read from letter you sent asking about my new life playing basketball shoot sport in NBA in United States.
First of all, thank you for intercoursing me and nourishing me so I become 71/2 feet tall and 375 pounds heavy. Rebounds not problem in NBA. Scoring not problem in NBA. Size 24 shoes a problem. Many lane violations. At practice I work on this. I do foot agility drills in tractor tires, and at home in hoop earrings of teammate Hashid Jameer Rasheed Hama Lama's girlfriend.
During season, we play game just about every night. It's very tough, how you say, living out of suitcase. But food is good and plentiful. Girls, liquor, wacky tobacky and drugs all over the place in clubs where we go after games. But I stick with my warm goat's milk. All the players and some of the coaches like me so much that they let me drive them home before dawn. I learn stick shift. They call me "Cabbie."
Many players waste their money on dumb stuff, like renting hotel suites for just a few hours and inviting one or two of their sisters up there at a time. No matter if they're married or single, they all seem to have big families and lots of sisters. There's usually a hot tub in there so room is short. I'm tall. I don't go. I stay at bar and drink goat's milk and watch ESPN.
We have day off today so we went to upscale mall. Upscale means they have higher prices, fancy coffee kiosks, moving stair steps, wishing well fountains and Victoria's Secret (hubba-hubba!) store. I don't understand. It is no secret what they sell in there.
The guys took me to Mozambique Boutique and got me new clothes and, how you say, bling-bling. I wear now. Colorful, flowing silk robes and heavy jewelry chains.
I also got new 'do. They call it grain rows or something like that. I feel so free and wild. May skip milk tonight, find some sisters and rent a suite. They pay me lots of Euros and there are magical money machines all over here.
I must go now. Have to pick up new big Hummer at auto dealer after windows are smoked, sound system installed, and new spinning wheel rims put on.
Also, tattoo man coming to do my arms, legs and neck just like Hama Lama's. Sisters like Hama Lama. Sisters like guys with big Hummers and tattoos. Go to rooms with big smiles. Leave with big smiles. Nothing like family. And hot tubs and Hummers and tattoos. America so wonderful. Give my love to sheep. I go now.
Love, your son,
United States, America