I'm Not Saying, I'm Just Saying

There's something wrong with Ron Artest. I'm not calling the guy out (because I know he'll come after me) or saying he wouldn't light me up on the basketball court (because he would, blindfolded and with both hands tied up) and I'm not really saying he bothers me.

I just know there's something wrong with him. It might be okay though, because it seems like whatever it is that's knocked a couple screws loose, it's made him into the player that he is. You know what they say about taking what you've got, "for better or worse", etc, etc. I guess I'm just saying, when this kind of thing comes up in the course of a nonchalant post-game chat, it makes me wonder if Ron-Ron (as he insists on being called) is somehow managing to turn over the motor despite leaving the keys on the kitchen counter:

I remember when I used to play back home in the neighborhood there were always games like that. I remember one time, one of my friends, he was playing basketball and they were winning the game. It was so competitive, they broke off a piece of leg from a table and they threw it and it went right through his heart and he died right on the court.

And thing about this is, if you watch the video, it's not some big, dramatic, "I've seen things you cannot even imagine!" moment. He spins it as if it were just another of those dime-a-dozen "So, this one time me and my buddies..." stories. Hey, life's tough on the New York courts. Every so often a guy will get SPEARED with a table leg, but no biggie. Ball's in!!

I don't know if it should be considered big-deal. I don't think it could be considered normal. I guess you gotta go with whatever works. But there's something wrong about Ron Artest - which of course means he will be an absolutely perfect fit in L.A.