HoopsHype.com NBA Blogs - Gabe Muoneke

Did you know the atom, the little bitty things that make us up, are over 97 percent empty space? I heard that and couldn’t believe it so… I looked it up and read that as small as an atom is (millionths of a millimeter), its center (proton) is one-hundered thousand time smaller than the atom itself. Then the electron(s) that orbit(s) the center are a thousand times smaller than the center itself. The rest of the atom is just empty space. So wait a second… If I’m made up of atoms and the atom is pretty much non-existent… Am I really here? Crack anyone? These are the kinds of unbelievably unorthodox things I ponder in the offseason. I really don’t do much thinking about basketball at all. I start off with some off-the-wall thought or question like the aforementioned and it somehow comes full circle and changes something profoundly in my game and life that everyone else just does naturally. Beeeee-cuz I’m a hard head and I like to complicate 2+2. Five! (Stop it, Bird).

I always look forward to the summer. I get to add something beneficial to myself. Or even better, remove something unproductive. I’ll literally do anything and everything that you just don’t expect a large, basketball player of Bantu descent to do. And I promise, I don’t do these hippie things to be different. I just want to see if any of these “secrets” really work. Summer goal: Turn into a basketball leviathan. Plan of action: Yoga, diet, meditation, exercise. Notice how the plan of action did not include the sport itself? I’m trying to expand on something new that worked out well for me this year. I executed that plan of action but with flaws.

1. I wasn’t consistent with the yoga. So I plan to go to Austin, where I met a 50-year-old yoga guru who can do backflips. He’s got plans to put me in yoga sessions in a 102 degree room. That ought to be fun… (Insert fart noise with thumb pointed down here).

2. I started the diet thing about this time last year and if you all have followed this journey, you know I am far different now compared to when I started. Won’t beat a dead horse.

3. Meditation… Sorry, can’t make that sound cool. Just trying it because everything else in this way has worked well. The good thing is, if you’re a baller and you don’t wanna try some fad because it sounds like something new to do but doesn’t really work, I’ll be the ginny pig and I’ll let you know. Because if it’s some bovine boo boo, you know I’ll say it.

4. Exercise. I really don’t do much. The biggest thing I think got me physically stronger was Brazilian ju-jitzu. I didn’t really get good at it until I lost weight. I thought at 270 lbs, I’d smack around everyone I saw. Then I tasted a rather delectible headlock from a barely 6-foot, 175 lbs Boricua that put me to sleep. And when I woke up, I was surrounded by Snow White and her seven dwarfs. Then I woke up again. It wasn’t until I was slim that I could actually submit people.

Anyway, that’s the summer plan and I plan to chart and blog about the progress every month, so we can see together whether the mainstream has spewed the garbage we all suspect it has all these years or if the idea of bettering one’s mind, body and spirit through enlightenment is not just a hippie’s LSD fantasy dreamed up in the 70s.

Unfortunately, the only thing I’ve been able to do so far is the diet and keeping up with my yoga everyday. I did the Puerto Rico thing for a second and it was incredible. I think it was the first time I went there and really enjoyed the life it has to offer. I didn’t engulf myself in the blackjack table this time (as is my usual vacation in PR). I just played ball, ate fruits growing on the trees outside (seriously! I didn’t even know mangos grew in PR until this year and I’ve played there eight years), jogged, chilled on the beach and swam in paradise. Now there’s got to be something to this “Qi” thing. I was so relaxed, engergized, at peace, in balance… Man, I don’t know what the hell to call it. I simply felt incredible. I did something I never did in high school, college or pros (not even in China). I had a game I scored 22 points in the first quarter. Now look… Anywhere else and I wouldn’t even have mentioned it. But anyone who knows the PR league, knows that is the second best comp you will get outside the states. Just ask Carlos Arroyo.

Anyway, the point of that was, damn! How the hell could I never do those kinds of things when I was younger, faster, str… Well the answer is, maybe I wasn’t any of those things back then except younger. And dumber, yeah… Maybe dumber. Maybe. I guess all those times my Caucasian bros invited me to the lake in Austin (Mihm, Luke, Ogden… Actually Chris Ogden wanted to go hunting. He just wanted to pull the Dick Cheney on me. But I think he likes me now), I should have gone. God knows they were always less wound up than me. That wasn’t so hard seeing as how I was tighter than… Stop it. I lost track…

Now that I’m done dealing with things like my youngest bro getting jumped by a bunch of backwoods, inbred, cowardice, uneducated Jerry Springer rejects, I can concentrate on the civilized. If you could just step into the courtroom I just left in, ready? Mitchell, South Dakota, you would find it hard not to be as relieved as I am right now. Long story short, my lil’ bro got a crash course in why you shouldn’t feel comfortable in places you might not be welcomed. And even though the (four) guys are on trial now (for a misdemeanor) even though they (49 yrs, 30+, 25 yrs and 23 yrs) jumped a 20-year-old and beat him good enough to break his nose in 2008 in America, I’m not mad. Because when I saw them, they were so pathetic all I could do is laugh and get mad at my brother for not being sober enough to beat the flies off the crippled warthogs when they jumped on him. Lord, if you’re listening can we rewind time and have them jump me? Please? Cause I don’t drink. See how uncivilized and unproductive having to even address this nonsense is? So now I’m back at the house and, like I said, back to the civilized.

Quick…

Did you see KG’s follow-up dunk on Gasol? Da-yum…

Back…

I get to watch Kobe now. Ha! Beat that. I just wish the Lakers could have tied the series. Funny thing is, this is my first time calling the champ in advance. And now, I kinda want them to lose. Sorry, sorry Boston… I know. I just wanted Kobe to get some redemption. And it gets even weirder… I don’t particularly consider myself a Kobe fan. I confuse myself, I swear. I love… Let me rewind. I absolutely enamor Kobe’s game. I think he is the absolute definition of “work equals production.” Have you ever seen a player that makes every move and every shot look like he practiced them each a million times until the very way the ball goes in repeats itself? When John Lucas said Kobe was better than Mike, I thought he was nuts. Whoa tonto… Not saying I think he’s better now but those who believe it. (Deep breathing G) The people who say Kobe and Mike are comparable in skill have an argument and I’ll leave my opinion here now. Fell free to flush at any moment.

Wait… What the hell am I talking about? I just gotta a flash in my head of the final shot MJ made against Utah for the sixth ring. I can’t ya’ll, sorry. I just can’t. He’s the greatest. That’s right, Ironman, Superman and MJ, in that order!! Vete pa’ carajo!

On the cool though, is the series boring to no end unless LA ties it up? Boston seems too big in the paint and too big in the pants to lose. My vote: Put Mbenga, Mihm, Bynum (I know he’s hurt), Odom and Gasol in… At the same time! Oh, that’ll show ‘em! Rebound that, beeeeyaaatch! Please send your medical recommendations to hoopshype@hoopshype.com.

People stay with me here. I’m starting up my ju-jitzu again and staying steady on the yoga and diet and we’ll see what the end product is together. I’m still in the process of finding the balanced “Qi” if it even exists. So I am truly setting in motion the house on the beach thing in Africa so I can find that qi. Tired of talking about it and everyone else I know calling me from there telling me how energizing it is. I’m sending family back home to insure the business in Central Africa continues as planned. Oh by the way… Do not fly Air France. Ever. This is the fifth time I’ve dealt with them and they never disappoint to disappoint. If you play ball and travel like we oversea-ers do and you’ve flown Air France, you know like I know, the customers is always a thorn in the side that if given a chance will piss me off til I strike (again) and throw my gourmet knowledge of cheese and wine in their faces. I love France. I hate Air France. Take the chance if you want so you can see for yourself. But like pops said, (another West African proverb. ready?) commot d biro bros: Ukpana okpoko buru, nti chiri ya. Translation: I gotta get my b.b. gun and take out these damn mockingbirds keep eating my tomatoes and terrorizing kids.

I’ll get back to you on the progress and the translation unless someone beats me to it.

You know this is the only time of the year I really regret not being in the NBA. If for no other reason because of the immense difference of the playoffs and what I am doing at the time. See, because during the year (you know, September through April) I don’t see a difference between what I’m doing  and what guys in the States are doing. Making good money and having fun. But see, now… Now is the time I bite my lip and the basketball fan in me comes back out. Now basketball is being played. Real, raw, unadulterated basketball. And even if I accepted the scraps I was offered to stay at Tau and play in the Final Four of Europe, there is little doubt I wouldn’t be as “straightjacketed” there as I am now.

Every time I see a playoff game, it resurrects that feeling I swear I never get any other time. I sit here with my beautiful family trying to squeeze time between keeping my boy from maiming the rest of the kids at my daughter’s birthday party and putting together the trampoline we got her, to sneak a peek at the Boston-Atlanta series. And all I can do is bite my lip when I see a juvenile turnover at a crucial time by a guy who would be cut in a heartbeat from any team I’ve played for overseas. And I blurt out things like, “Geezus Christmas… What the hell are you doing?” in the middle of cutting a cake and singing. And I get the “look” from all the 9-5ers enjoying the non-athletic festivities.

But what can I say? Have you seen some of the basketball juggernauts playing right now? I mean with guys like Devean George, the abominable combination of James Augustine and Marcin Gortat, the dominant Rasho Nesterovic, Joey Graham, DJ Mbenga (kosilika te mon cher c’est un blague) and of course the utterly brilliant Reggie Evans (although I must say you are playing well, you’re still a rhino, or was it a triceratops?), how could I possibly make a case of being good enough to hang? I mean these guys are, dare I say, Jordan-esque.

But as it stands, I do still get that itch to get on a court and dismantle the athletically superb but basketball dumb with a culmination of the things I’ve learned playing everywhere except Afghanistan (but let them offer enough shiiiiii). So I get up now and take offers to play, just so I can do exactly that. And it’s not the money, although I do make more for a two-week tourney in Kuwait than I would in a month for a top Euro team. Money hasn’t been my driving force since 2003. My friend and I just started a business in Central Africa and it’s moving like a freight train. Everyone says, “Yeah you make money in Africa but is it stable?” Read this very carefully… The people saying, “Don’t fish in the pond” are the ones harvesting the fish. In short, I’m happy with what I make and more than comfortable but I just gotta play when the playoffs come around.

Man! I take an offer to some asininely non-basketball part of the world to get rid of that itch, then the level of play there is so plainly not what I see on ESPN, my presence there simply exacerbates the frustration of not playing on an NBA playoff team. It’s a vicious cycle. So why do I do it? Well, I like putting on a show… For myself. Wherever I am. But (and this is a big but) will I do it for pennies on the dollar of what I’m worth (easily half of an Asian team) in a country that looks at me as less than a man just because the country or league “looks” big-time? And for a non-championship team? Basically give you million dollar basketball for cheap? Survey says… Yes? “I’m sorry the correct answer was ‘hell to the naw… That’s hell to the naw’. Thanks for playing we do have some parting gifts for you.”

Quick…

This is not really a quick, just something I thought about while watching the Toronto-Orlando series. (Dwight, please stop it. You’re scaring the children). You know how on TV you always heard how competitive Michael Jordan is? I used to see that on TV and thought it was just a media facade. Until I met him and got to hang out with him. His level of competitiveness is scratching the surface of being uncanny (seriously, look that word up as to really comprehend what I mean). I mean, it like made me slightly uncomfortable if not scared. Then I remembered watching the game, Mo Evans is exactly the same. I had to jab him when I saw how mad he got when he missed a corner three wide open. He went 4-for-6 from beyond the arc for the night, but knowing him the two he missed will keep him up til 3 am playing dominoes until he beats poor Papa Evans bad enough to satisfy that frustration of missing them two 3’s. So I guess that’s the quick… Mo is the best domino player in the NBA. I don’t really know if that’s true, but he’s damn good. I think we won a NBAer tourney once… Anyway…

Back…

To put in plain words without telling you exactly what an individual makes… My contract this year in Spain paid me more than I would have made playing for Charlotte this year. No exaggeration. Fact. There were three guys that went through my spot and guess who was the lowest paid (by far)? Yep, mois. Now I defy you to go to the stats for yourself and see who played the best. Mind you, sans the “tag” (that’s hoops lingo for guys with the played-in-NBA for substantial time tag). I was given little to no respect, even less chance and fought my way to getting 20 minutes a game in a style unbecoming of my skills. On the contrary, the other two guys were simply given that time. To make matters worse, I am older and much more experienced than the other two guys (and there are plenty that would make the argument, simply better. I said it and my cologne is Versace. You know the routine).

I did all this and I swear to all that is Hoopery, I took a substantial pay cut from what I make in Asia. Simply because the season in Europe is longer so more stable. It’s obviously more desirable to make 500K-a million over 10 months than to make 300K-500K over 4 months. Give or take. I’m not stupid. 500K over 4 in Asia or 500K over 10 months in Europe is a no-brainer but it’s not always that plain. I took that pay cut to prove myself in Europe because they hadn’t seen me in five years. So I proved myself. Gabe can play. Duh. Like they didn’t know that.

So why hadn’t they seen me in five years? I had never gotten all my money playing in Europe. Let me repeat; Nunca cogio todo plata mia jugando en Europa CON-YO! Shall I repeat? Jamias na monaki mbongo ya ngai mobimba tangu nazalaki kobeta basquet na Europe. (I can do this all day). Conversely, my fine feathered friends, I am not owed one cent, not one kobo, ni un puto centavo, from any team in Asia (not even in Iran).

Sure, culture and belief systems are different wherever I go. But blatant lying as an attempt to keep $200 bucks here, $800 there, $50 over yonder is a trait that one would experience, not in Asia. Oops… Am I insinuating something? Naw, if you’re a moron. So what now? Yep, I go play. Puerto Rico (another place I’m not owed a penny), China (which I love), Kuwait, anywhere but I just can’t keep watching these playoff games, not be a part of them and satisfy my basketball yearning dunking on my Brazilian Ju-jitsu teacher at 24-hour fitness. For some reason it’s just not the same. Don’t ask me why. So I’m off somewhere that I probably wont have Internet in turn, incommunicado. Then I’ll come back home for two months, sign a deal somewhere in June and this basketball ride will start again. Only this time it will be a lot more detailed and (ha ha) fun! Cuz I’ll have nada to lose and I’ll still be rich… Bit… You get the point. Nwa agu adi ataa ahihia. And I am the son of a lion.

Shalom.