I Made It

Guys, I was violently ill this week. I couldn't even sleep through the night and I ate about 150 Tums in 2 days. I didn't know if I was going to live through it. My life flashed before my eyes. It was like watching a Brad Miller video, but with somewhat less headbands. I was terrified.

Would I ever get to see the Bulls make the playoffs again? Would I ever get to make a really good sign for them?

It was horrible. Laying there on my couch, I was pleading. If Carl Landry can get shot and live through it, why do I have to die from eating two bowls of chili at 10:00 pm? Then I started thinking, will I ever get to see Carl Landry play again?

I mean, he got shot, you guys. Just in the leg, but it's still significant. 50 Cent got shot 9 times and he's alive. Didn't I deserve to live? I had just started to go green, too. I think I was making an impact. My movement, the go green movement that I created, has already reached Los Angeles.

Sure, some people have taken it too far. Like the Bobcats. They just made a joke of my movement with their silly green uniforms. I wouldn't miss the Bobcats and they're smug, "Look at us we're wearing green uniforms" attitude.

I was determined though. I had my Tums and my will and I promised myself that I wouldn't be outlived by Dikembe Mutombo. That'd just be embarrassing.But the thing I'd miss the most of all, besides my family and friends, but probably more than some of my "friends" (haters), was that I'd never get the chance to see your brother and your dad play basketball again.

They were such an inspiration to me. Such a motivation to keep fighting for my life, while I was eating Tums. If it wasn't for them, I don't know if I'd have survived this horrible illness called sweat sickness. I saw it on The Tudors and it was really deadly, so I'm pretty sure that's what I had.

But I made it, guys. And I have your dad and brother to thank. Tell Brian and Steve I said, "thanks." They'll know what it means.

I Saw Your Dad Play Basketball Last Night

I stopped by Wizards/Wolves game last night because I didn't have anything to do and they were giving out tickets in exchange for canned food. Something about Y2K, I guess. Seemed pretty legit, but maybe they were planning on deploying some kind of horrible weaponry and needed a stocked bomb shelter. Either way, I took my can of peaches with me down to the gym and got a seat.

And dude, your DAD was playing for the Timberwolves. Yeah, seriously, your dad.

I'm sure it was him. He was bald but had that little bit of side hair like Scott Skiles and the flesh-colored beard. It had to have been your dad. You said he's been able to get back in the gym after the heart thing, right? Yeah, I thought so. It was definitely him. He had the knee braces on and everything.

Oh, and he was doing all those old man moves, like hooking guys when he spins down low and shooting that fade-away from the left block that he loves so much. And he was throwing all kinds of backdoor passes.

I'm telling you, it was him. He was so sweaty. It was kinda gross, but he's like 50 something right? I mean, I sweat a lot and I'm only 25. I can't imagine how sweaty I'll be when I'm 50. I guess twice as sweaty, technically. That's a lot of sweat. I'm a little nauseous just thinking about it.

But it was cool seeing your dad playing again. He was seriously taking it to some of the younger guys. Next time you talk to him, tell him I say hi. He'll know what it means.