HoopsHype.com NBA Blogs - Gabe Muoneke

Have you ever looked in the mirror and just had one of those Office Space kicking and beating up the typewriter moments in your mind? I just sit around sometimes picturing myself sizing up a basketball with a bat while “Ghetto Boys” theme music is playing. Then I get to stompin’ that biyatch. Then after the poor inanimate object is deflated, I throw the bat away and get to pounding that Spalding face into the ground until my hands are bloody. I suppose you have to watch the movie to appreciate the humor in that scene.

Trust me, stranger scenes would come to you if you were doing what I’m doing where I’m doing it. God! How often can one man really be wrong? Apparently a whole hell of a lot. So many things happen here in China, you can’t even complain. People will start to say things. I just need a reality show following me around cause, like I said, the things I go through on a daily basis, people will just never believe.

When Bonzi Wells came to China, forgive me Bonzi, the first thing that came to my head is… No way. I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I meant “no way” as in, “he’ll see. No way he tolerates this.” Now, I defy you to say it’s only me and ask him what he saw. He came here for 14 games, went home for vacation and said, “Thanks but no thanks.”

He might experience the same colon conundrum as myself in that people will automatically say, “It must be him.”

Don’t get me wrong some guys do just fine. (Here we go) The guys that do fine out here feel they are lucky to play for money. Although they make far more out here than they would make anywhere else, these guys got nothing better to do and would play for food. And maybe I might be looked at as one of those guys, but I’m simply not. I remember teams and agents offering me what they believe to be so much money for a player with my name and giving me the “you idiot” face when I turn it down.

“He’ll take (this much)” they say, “he’s bluffing.” All I ever say is offer it and see if I’m bluffing. I just won’t go to play somewhere for less than I feel I’m worth. Especially an uncomfortable place. Because every time I go somewhere and start playing I get the same question, “Why have you played in Asia so long?” I’ve heard it all about what I make being too much. So the guys making three times what I make in basketball living on a European beach are three times better than me and are accurately paid? I don’t care if someone makes a million dollars a month and I care even less if he’s worth it. If he got it, he’s worth it. So don’t be upset if I get what I get. I challenge anyone to get accustomed to China Basketball and say you’re not underpaid just for getting through it. Details to come later.

Funniest thing is, I make very little more out here than what I made at Tau Ceramica! So Tau obviously felt I was good. I find myself thinking about Spain a lot and how I utterly cut my own nose off with that situation.

Just to clear it up… It was completely my fault I didn’t finish at Tau. I took bad advice rather than just signing what was offered. At the time, I didn’t see it. But now I know not accepting a good deal from a team older in basketball tradition than me is insulting. So for that, mala mia Vitoria. And now look, they’re even better after the Spanish Championship (that I missed) and Euroleague Final Four (that I also missed) than last year.

I asked a former teammate a serious question and I pose it to everyone: Who the hell can beat them? I have heard it in the past and it’s been an exaggeration most of the time but today I believe it whole-heartedly. This year’s Tau team would make the playoffs in the NBA. If not, they are at worst the best European team I’ve seen since Manu Ginobili’s Bologna team. Which brings me to what I think the most about while playing here in China… Pablo Prigioni.

I bet people are trippin’ how I’m actually talking about basketball. I know, I’m lamenting it. But I am in China and there’s not much else you’d probably get away with talking about. I’m always up to date in the policies of the countries I play in. Anyway, why Pablo? OK. I am a scorer primarily. I am a sneaky rebounder and grit defender secondarily. But one thing I can do, anywhere on any level, is score.

Quick…

BTW, I’ve read some of the snide remarks about my scoring tirade in Orlando Summer league being a farce. How is a 30-point performance lucky? 20 points I can see. But 31 points? Just for those people and no other reason, wait until Vegas ‘09. Ever seen a black moon? I’m speeding up, not slowing down.

Back…

So I’m out here in China and I literally can’t help myself from stopping because I feel embarrassed to lose every damn game and score 40 points. I hate it. I had a game I had 48 in the beginning of the fourth quarter and despite everyone cheering for me to score 50, I refused to shoot. We were down by 30 the whole game, for goodness sake.

I already hear it… “He probably shoots every time he gets it.” Well in the Top 10 guys in scoring in China (me being Number 1) who do you think shoots the most? I’ll better you… I shoot the least. Look it up. It’s a fact. I shoot a little more than 20 shots a game. The second leading scorer shoots 33 times a game. Wait for it… 33 (thirty-three) shot attempts a game. If I shot that many times, I’d average 50. Why? Because of the one stat I take the most pride in, I make more free-throws than everyone else attempts. I am simply a difficult cover. But enough about me.

This is about PP. Point guardo Perfecto. Passador al Publico. Professor Periferal. (See how much time I have on my hands to make up new Spanish words?) He comes to mind because of how hard it is for me to score here efficiently. On a lower-level team, all the other teams do here is meet me 10 feet from the three-point line and sag everyone else in. I don’t care where you play, that’s hard to score against. They aren’t kids out here and I’m never even close to to tallest player on the court. When at Tau, Pablo made it very very easy to score. I never had to worry about anyone being near me. Pablo could get anyone an open shot when and where he wanted. I didn’t understand him when I first got there but I learned quickly… Don’t call for the ball or ask him to tell you where to go, just listen to his finger. And if his finger didn’t talk, you were in the right place so just wait. Boom! Dunk. Why do you think the best shooter in Europe (Mirza Teletovic) is always open for three? Have you seen Tiago, Pete, Will and Igor’s FG%?

It’s ridiculous! It’s like they are playing alone. Pablo is 31 years old and he was the only one I stared at while working out in the weight room. I thought I was dedicated. Lil’ dude is from Argentina but looks like a Mafia hitman in the weight room. He could start on any caliber NBA team. He’s that good. NBA has surely come a calling but he may be one of those guys America never gets to see.

It gets so hard to keep getting beat up over here, I remember being wide open and getting hit in the nose with the ball. Man. I haven’t shot an open shot in… How long I been here?

Excuse this uncharacteristically short blog. It’s hard typing with one hand (injured it and I’m about a couple weeks from being back in action). However, enjoy this ever-so-rare international basketball schpiel. In all likelihood, it probably won’t happen again anytime soon. I’d much rather talk about real things that will affect my sovereign state of mind and consciousness much longer after basketball is over with. Things like the consistent whoring of Africa. Like how every non-African country, because of the selfish lack of insight of many African leaders, are being allowed to use unnatural mechanisms of fishing like bombing in African waters. Which in turn is depleting crustacean and other aquatic life to a point which is making the ecosystem unrecognizable (which affects us all). Not to mention taking all the fish we eat to foreign countries for profit.

Or how I’ve been going crazy trying to deprogam myself to accept the high possibility that a majority of what I have been taught (by supposed learned people) to believe is just a lie.

Now all I want to do is travel verywhere to see for myself what the truth is. I’m going to Nigeria this summer for more than just a FIBA African Championship. I want that too, but I want more. So I can’t have my Office Space moment on some unsuspecting Spalding court spawn, yet. But when I’m 35, you tell Spalding I’m looking for him and if he sees me run. Sure he’s taken me to find new avenues to discover more of self than just number 21, 6-foot-7 forward. And even taken me to experience basketball ecstacy in Spain and economic ecstacy in Korea. But you’ve also taken me places I won’t forgive you for. It’s for that that I’m whoopin’ your ass, that sick sense of humor. Laugh it up for now, Elmer. I’ll have the gun again.

ShalObama.

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In a race, whether one walks or runs, all finish at the end. Sooner or later I had to learn what doing bad things to others would cause. Whether I learned it earlier or after death, I would have learned it. It would have been nice to learn it at, oh I don’t know, around 10. Yeah, 10 would have been a good age to learn it. But as it stands, it took a bit longer. That’s neither here or there. I try not to look back very often and absolutely love living for today.

Today I am still in China… Waiting for tomorrow. Ha! You have to experience a game in this league to really appreciate why I say that. One day, I’d love to discuss the fine points of basketball and its utter decimation in certain places. I’d love to brag about my numbers over here but I have some pride. I would say the only thing I concentrate on as far as individually, to apply my desire of self-betterment in this sport that does so much for me, is my field goal percentage. I couldn’t care less if I averaged 80 ppg here. However, when my 3P% is under 42, I am in a bad mood until it’s back up. So as far as basketball is concerned… that’s all I got.

You are more than welcome to check out the CBA website to enjoy for yourself but no one there considers it worthy to give readers an English viewing option. So good luck deciphering Chinese and enjoy!

Now, to the juice. I got texts from every fellow hooper I know, NBA staff people, family I haven’t heard from in months and Bugs Bunny all asking the same thing: WTF?

It came as a surprise to me, because people heard about it about two weeks after it happened. So by the time I saw it was reported everywhere even in Nigeria, I had forgotten it happened. In case anyone is totally baffled, I’m talking about the apparent attack on poor me by Chinese team captain and some of his boys. Seriously… It wasn’t that serious. I think the biggest guy might have weighed 180lbs. OK, I was trying to make it juicy…175lbs.

Anyway, I could give you tons of guesses about what spurned Super Mario and Pals to wait for me outside my locker room but I’m sure your guess would be as accurate as mine. Quite honestly I’m not totally sure. So rather than speculate on the causes, I’ll just give detail by detail the happenings and my thoughts in the middle. I can’t really give you the  comical G-money version cuz I might just get detained. Why am I here? Sorry…

I come out of the locker room and take my 1-year-old girl and my 5-year-old off my wife’s hands and leave my wife, mother-in-law and 3-year-old walking behind me to leave the arena. At the exit I see Shanghai’s seemingly entire team and Mickey Mouse waiting at the exit and looking at me as if I handed them a $1,000 dinner bill. Now, I remember getting into it with Minnie on the court. But I would hardly call it an altercation. I’ve had worse altercations blowing my nose.

Anyway, to avoid any issues with the fam there, I asked if they were waiting for something. I guess their English wasn’t that good. Because they took it as their invitation. I really thought it was a joke. You know, one of those European soccer belly bumping shows of testosterone? Then, when a full water bottle was hurled at me but my son ducked (lucky man; I don’t mean my son), I immediately handed him and the baby over and dropped my bag. I directed the fam back into the arena away from Mickey and friends and faced the fun bunch.

Now, initially there were guards and they parted like the red sea. Cool beans! This ought to be fun… Thanks, guys. 50 guards… 15 Shanghai Sharks. The guards should have been charged admission. OK. Now it’s me and them. Mickey to my left, Huey, Duey and Louis in center, Minnie and Scrooge to my right and Goofy and his friends in back. My first instinct was to absolutely shatter Minnie’s jaw. I mean, she was standing a perfect two feet from my right hand and if I was going to get jumped, I figured someone might as well be mortally wounded. But then I remembered. I’m in China, where if you go to jail no one, I mean absolutely no one outside of a Chinese government official can get you out.

Thank God I was reminded of Chinese laws like literally days before the incident. Did you hear about the five Puerto Ricans that changed dollars for counterfeit money here in China? They are still in jail and pleas by the U.S. State Department ain’t helping. So knowing what I know and what I’ve experienced here, two things went through my mind: Stay on your feet and take it. They’re neither big or strong enough to actually injure me. And two, don’t hurt any of them.

Believe me. 15 on 1 or not, if I had hurt one Chinese, I’d have been fined more, suspended longer and depending on how bad I’d have hurt someone, they would have put me in jail. Sorry guys, can’t go to jail in China with the family there. Shiiii. I can’t go to jail in China with the family not there! Do you know even though it was all on tape, they still questioned me as to attempt to punish me as well? You should have heard the questions I got from the CBA board.

“Well, were you in a ready to fight stance?”

No, I stuck my face out like a mistletoe and told ‘em all Merry freakin’ Christmas… Kiss me.

The question I posed was, were they looking for a reason to punish me too or do you want the story?

Back to the fun… With some teaching, I sprawled back and used two of their own guys as a wall and took my deep tissue massage like a man. Head down, arms extended, legs sprawled back pushing the crowd back with two cornered walls as a base. 30 seconds and who knows how many pats to my shoulders and back it was over.

I must admit, when they first came at me, I thought they were joking. When it was over and I looked up, I knew they were joking. Well, maybe not. But it spurned a chuckle out of me. Which in turn started Mickey into a Mariah Carey Tirade. It was actually the only American teammate of their own Sharks, Dajuan Tate, that broke it up. Yes, just him. No one of them really wanted to fight me. They wanted to let off some steam.

Well, I’m glad I could be of service. I wasn’t angry, injured or distraught. My wife was angry, mother-in-law was scared and my kids are now racists. But other than that, I’m fine. To this day I still love Disney and all the shows. I hold no ill will toward them and was on record saying I had no desire for them to be punished. In actuality, I feel embarrassed for them. Mickey especially. To me, it was more insulting to him to proceed with a fight in front of a man’s kids. But you know what? That, culturally, is how we are perceived here. Remember the story I told you about the Chinese fan screaming out “yoo monkee” to Lorenzo Coleman? That’s a microcosm of the experience. One day, friends… It goes back to what I said to start this. Whether you learn now or tomorrow, we will all learn.

This blog was just the bland version of the whole flower petal shower on Gabe. Can’t really tell it how I want but I’m sure you can guess. I’ll just say this. I couldn’t get beat to hell by many more North Africans. This was funny, believe me.

For anyone who comes here, Bonzi, it’s best you learn the culture quickly. Do not give them a reason. Just to give you a picture… If you get in a local’s face, it will quickly be broken up, sometimes maliciously. But (and this is a phenomenom that has held true since I came here in 2003) if the two adversaries are American? Well, pull up a seat, let us test the girth of each leviathon in battle, ha ha ha. They will let two Americans hash it out for a while before it is separated, if separated.

My first coach here in 2003 told me he studied human anatomy in college and through his studies he learned (Bantu) people are made only for certain sports. He said, basketball, football and other power sports were those for Bantus but a sport like, “Tennis for example,” he said was made for white and yellow. I didn’t get offended. Ignorance can’t offend me. I just smiled and said, “Venus and Serena.” And he thought, smiled and shook his finger at me half embarrassed, half laughing with a steroetypical, “very good.”

It’s all good, though. Any assumptions of me getting all angry and racially insulting can go out the window. I still appreciate all cultures. If anything, the thing that offers me the most frustration is having to deal with this nonsense at my age. You won’t get it unless you experience the 21-year-old kid getting paid $500 a month that they put in to guard the 40-point scoring NBA caliber player. The kid wants to prove himself and the coaches and refs want to see their next NBA prospect play you. They can’t and won’t call every overzealous, borderline career-ending foul. Otherwise you’d score 100. So they let him beat you like an orphan panda until it gets ridiculous. Which is all good when you’re 25 and a good player. But when you’ve worked to this level of play at 30? It gets old, especially on a 2-12 team. It’s better to play in Europe. No one there wants to fight anymore. Everyone just wants to make money, play good, fundamental basketball and wear skinny jeans while saying, “bon giorno” to that girl walking down the street that you swore you saw on model TV the other day.

Unfortunately for me, my plan of signing early in Europe didn’t work out and after NBA cuts all Euro jobs are filled. Sorry, I wasn’t passing up a vet camp with Jerry Sloan for anything. So if I had to do it again, I would. Yes, I knew they had 15 contracts before I went and didn’t care. I went there for longer-lasting reasons. The Chinese say the journey is the reward. I say, that’s if you survive the journey.

Until next time, don’t boycott Disney and its characters on my behalf. It’s all good. We all know the possible results in a different forum.

JVG… You’re the man! Next time you see me, please take notice to the “Will work for Prayers,” sign on my back.

ShalObama.

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