MORE THAN ONE WAY
TO SKIN THESE
McBOBKITTIES
TO SKIN THESE
McBOBKITTIES
-VS-
Game Time Start: 7:00 PM ET
Where: Time Warner Cable Arena, Charlotte, NC
Officials: D. Jones, M. Ayotte, E. Roe
Media Notes: Indiana Notes, Charlotte Notes
Television: FOX Sports Indiana / SportsSouth Charlotte
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PACERS Andrew Bynum - stuck X button (out) [H/T Richard_Skull] BOBCATS Brendan Haywood - Stress Fracture, Left Foot (out) Gerald Henderson - Right Calf Strain (day-to-day) Jeffery Taylor - Ruptured Right Achilles Tendon (out) |
In the 10 seasons the Bobcats have been around they have only managed winning records against four teams -- the Timberwolves, Kings, Warriors and one team from the East. Which team is the fourth and final team the Bobcats are above .500 against? |
A. Milwaukee Bucks B. New York Knicks C. Philadelphia 76ers D. Toronto Raptors E. Washington Wizards |
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Miles Wray: Funder Claps - Hook Me Up, Playa! By Lawrence Funderburke UNDER REVIEW: HOOK ME UP, PLAYA!: AN INSIDER’S LOOK INTO THE FINANCIAL FORTUNES, MISFORTUNES, AND FORTUNATE LESSONS LEARNED FROM MODERN-DAY PROFESSIONAL ATHLETES BY LAWRENCE FUNDERBURKE (WETHERBY PRESS, 2005, 195 PAGES) Even for dedicated NBA fans, Lawrence Funderburke is the answer to only very difficult trivia questions. The sweet spot of Funderburke’s career—actually basically his whole career, discounting a sojourn in Europe and a blink-length cameo for the Chicago Bulls —was from 1997-2003, when he played 15 minutes a night for the Sacramento Kings to provide hustle, rebounding, and a breather for All-Star forward Chris Webber. Even though the Kings were usually a playoff team in that era, the cowbells jangling from humble, raucous Arco Arena through to bemused television audiences across the nation, Funderburke never contributed to any of the things that make the NBA sexy and awe- inspiring. Since his childhood Funderburke has been able to do things on a basketball court that the rest of us can only do when we are deep in REM. But against the best competition in the world, his contributions on the court were as glamorous—albeit as essential—as a faucet, function dwarfing form. In the 2012-13 NBA season, 18 players—two of whom did not appear in a single game (Andrew Bynum, Derrick Rose)—earned more money for their year of work than Funderburke earned throughout his entire NBA career. Combine that with the fact that Funderburke made his money from a basketball arena surrounded by farmland, and we have an unlikely candidate to write a book that aspires to provide all professional athletes with the savvy and foresight to successfully manage their newfound wealth. However, Funderburke is qualified: he graduated magna *** laude from Ohio State with a degree in finance, which is an impressive life accomplishment even if he were not also averaging 14 points a game for the basketball team. And, in the Sacramento years, Lawrence Funderburke earned over $15 million dollars, a bargain in NBA budget terms for a dependable but unremarkable bench player like Funderburke. However, in the real world—and it is worth mentioning that Funderburke does live in the real world—that is an incomprehensible amount of money. An important thing to know about Hook Me Up, Playa! is that it is the rare book with a cover that wages an ideological war against the chapters it contains within. The front cover was assembled by a person who simply could not have read the actual book. In a baggy suit, Lawrence Funderburke nonchalantly gestures the money that charitably drifts like snowflakes around him—some of the bills are immaculate 50s and 100s captured at improbably front-facing angles; others are crumpled 1s—a hellish blaze somewhere behind him illuminating the scene in a menacing red, the book’s title superimposed across his waist, presented in a wacky electric neon font that a second-grader using WordArt in the Sierra Vista Elementary computer room, would probably have rejected for being too gimmicky. To judge the book by this cover, it appears that Funderburke has tossed off a series of name-dropping and detail-spilling tales to a ghostwriter about his decadent days and upscale nights holding down one of the world’s more coveted and public jobs. In reality, the book is a levelheaded and sobering list of lessons about fiscal responsibility. At times Funderburke even dips into the same optimistically delusional tone of a textbook or syllabus: “Another good approach for athletes to educate themselves in this area is to use some of the time they spend traveling to read and learn about financial matters. Check the Internet or your local library for recommended reading.” Try to imagine a professional athlete strolling to the local civic center and loading up on his/her library card before a long road trip, or ignoring everybody else on the team plane while keeping his/her nose deeply buried in Your 401(k) for Dummies. The book’s central refrain continually warns the newly monetarily endowed professional athlete about the world’s “hook-me-uppers”: those friends, shady acquaintances, and distant cousins who will emerge from all corners once a lucrative contract has been signed. The hook-me-uppers will proceed to ask the athlete for four- and five-figure chunks of that salary to help fund a “can’t-miss investment opportunity” or similar deal—your spam folder sprung to real life. So, the title Hook Me Up, Playa! is not a grinning catchphrase asking for another round of the world’s finer things. It’s the siren song of the shameless scammer who interprets the wealthy athlete as an unlocked ATM. For Funderburke, the threat of the hook-me-upper looms so large and inevitable that, like Lord of the Rings, his tale must be named after its antagonist. As a person who has been too timid to even say hello to the handful of athletes I have seen in public, I am boggled by the fact that there are people who not only say “hello” but do so while trying to reach around into the athlete’s back pocket. Last year, I saw Kareem Abdul-Jabaar at a record store. I found a low-trafficked corner and then stood there, jaw agape, watching him browse through the jazz section. If I saw him in a record store again, I probably would end up doing the same. I just don’t want to interrupt his, uh, record shopping I guess. So I have very literally no idea what thoughts go through a person’s head enabling him/her to stride up to an athlete in public—or boldly dial the number to Lawrence Funderburke’s hotel room, which it seems plenty of tenacious hook-me-uppers have done over the years—and then ask for money. I suppose I had always assumed that annoying an athlete in public would get you wordlessly whisked away by two Kimbo Slice-sized bodyguards. If the message about hook-me-uppers had not come so modestly and earnestly, I don’t think I would have believed that the hook-me-upper existed. But I guess the hook-me-uppers exist, and exist universally—Funderburke doesn’t limit his message to NBA players...CONTINUE READING AT McSWEENEY'S |
Pacers Candace Buckner @CandaceDBuckner Jared Wade @8pts9secs Tim Donahue @TimDonahue8p9s Tom Lewis @indycornrows Ian Levy @HickoryHigh Whitney @its_whitney |
Bobcats Rick Bonnell @rick_bonnell Ben Swanson @CardboardGerald Brett Hainline @BrettQCHoops Derek James @DerekJamesNBA Joshua B. Priemski @HoopPlusTheHarm Spencer Percy @QCHspencer |
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