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- Wanna submit something?
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That Mitch. FiyaStarter’s staff weighs in on the Mitchell Report (That Mitch). Malik Sinsear
ELS
Big Earl --satire break-- All jokes aside, if you’re a black journalist or you have a friend in the journalism field and he/she is black, let them know all of their asses have been put on notice. This is important. Tell them to TALK ABOUT IT or we’re coming after them. --satire resume--
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FIYA NBA Ranks: #9 |
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With my living room television parked on ESPN News, last Thursday morning, I was on my way to the bathroom when I squinted, then rubbed my eyes in disbelief. At that moment, I did what came natural and let out the most soulful “Baby Yeaaaah!” since K-Ci belted his own powerful edition, per Forever My Lady on Uptown’s 1993 MTV Unplugged. I can’t exactly explain how I felt, but it was kinda like I was right in the middle of the Golden Era of Hip-Hop and I just cracked the plastic wrap from my Wu and Nas cassette’s. Just skimming over That Mitch was incredible. It was as if I was witnessing the murders of Pac and Biggie, except this was more like performance and character assassination. I hope they hit Clemens up.
GOOD! They kept tryna act like Barry was the only one with a big ass head. Roger Clemens head was big as fuck. If they had bothered to do a 20 year analysis on the changes to Clemens body like they did with Barry, they'd see how much muscle that big bastard added. But, noooo...they wanna bullshit a nigga by showing footage of Clemens grinding his fucking fists into sacks of rice and shit, talking about that's how he strengthens his arm up. Whatever, some trainer was grindin' a needle in his ass is what happened. I know one thing...Gooden ain't cheat and he's BETTER! NOPE!
I don't care about nothing else but them taking Clemens' commercial off the air. You know the one where he's calling from the golf course and being all cute and shit with his wife, asking her if it's okay if he comes back for another season and the call gets dropped? Yeah, that one. I don't wanna see that shit no more, dogg. He’s a cheater and his wife knew his big head ass was cheating. I know she noticed them balls were all shrunk up and she didn’t care, because steroids could get the family 15 million for four months work. What a disgusting couple. 
Let me say this; I’ve watched this whole thing unfold since that “Magic Summer of ‘98” with Sosa and McGwire all juiced, fucking that ball up and I remember thinking to myself: “Ok, so they’re letting the boys shoot up to bring the fans back, fair enough.” So, you can imagine how angry I was when the very same people that watched the other two hulked up sluggers rewrite the record books began this vendetta against Bobby Bonds’ son, Barry. They wouldn’t even let it rest when the boy buried his daddy. Now, I followed that Mitchell Report all the way through and I’ll tell it to you like this, I don’t care about anyone else on that list, except Clemens. Don’t mention, Pujols, The ’86 Mets, Walter Payton, Issac Hayes or Carroll O’Connor’s Bill Gillespie character from my favorite show, In the Heat of the Night. No one else matters. The only thing I and any other dignified black man in this country wants is the same fiasco Barry had to endure, bestowed upon Roger Clemens. Basically, three years of continued scrutiny and federal investigations regardless of personal triumph or tragedy. After that you can do what you want with him. 