HoopsHype.com NBA Blogs - Gabe Muoneke

Suhweet postings! And I’m on the books and sites that you all gave me to research. I find myself more excited about learning more than anything else I’ve ever done. So thank ya much. Um… Last blog. Kinda monotonous to dwell on it but I’ll try to be brief and move on. There was more to the last blog and kind of a more serious side to the whole thing. The point really wasn’t simply don’t eat meat. I personally look at the scientific part of it and believe humans are omnivores. We have canines, right? I was just pondering out loud my dietary journey and how it has led me on to something much more important to a race’s existence. I am considering eliminating meat from my diet. As I previously stated, I’m on the path of becoming an opportunistic raw-foods vegan. (Yes, I made that up).

Rant time! (Skip down to hoops for the less boring). Everybody kinda went apeshit with the whole diet thing. Don’t get me wrong, I still believe it is very, very important to take care of your body thoughu what you put into it, but the point was really more to recognize. Recognize what I like to call Shahi-tan. I just feel it is more productive to bring to light similarities rather than emphasize differences.

Recognize the tools used to exacerbate self-hatred among people of different ethnicities yet same race. Diet is just one of those tools. The despising of one another has not been very productive to date. Separation is and has been man’s avenue to hate yet there remain those that will take offense to one man’s opinion that promotes oneness. Just another example of how, in some, the desire to hate and distinguish will always take precedence over rational thought. I’m the nimrod for attempting a back and forth with the illogical. Another miscue… I wasn’t making an attempt to discredit any other race or only give props to Bantus. My apologies for any offense taken. Playing overseas has killed all prejudices I once had. I have learned to enamour the differences and even more so the fascinating similarities we all have.

However, in my travels I have seen one constant: the unproductive state (internal and external) of Bantus. And ethnicity has never been a shield for anyone of the Bantu tribes. I simply feel the hatred starts from within, therefore it makes it easier for outsiders to reinforce it. So don’t take personal my Black Panther moment, just wanted to offer a band-aid to a broken arm. And my response was, a fellow Nigerian no less, telling me I might lose my head saying Bantu-Americans were no different from Bantu Africans. Ha! (Please don’t pay any mind to that. I’ll go home and back. Live there and visit the States… Head intact). This from a place where after hating everyone else for being different outside will then find another reason to hate within the country for being of different tribes then within the tribes more hatred for different skin shades. See what I mean by illogical? Sorry I brought it up. (Oh and… Bros. Na you sabi. U tink se d agboro fo Lagos no get Internet? 2moro se na if u waka fo leki na mista mad man u go c selling agege fo road. Commot abeg).

Rant over…

Back to the hoopin’. I am really loving Spain, man! I mean, really loving it. It is not easy getting adjusted to not playing much. The last time I did it (the euro thing), I learned to be very very efficient. In other words, you’d better find a way to get your 20 points in eight shots or less. Crazy, right? But it makes you damn good once you play in other leagues. When I went from Europe to Korea, I just remember being so hard to guard because I didn’t need 20 shots to get 30 points. My first year in Korea I was the fourth leading scorer, but I had 200 less shots than anyone in the Top 10 in scoring! So I’m re-accommodating myself to the style. The life is what I’ve appreciated most. You know, the small cars, little furniture, expensive everything. And, oh yes, the tight jeans. (Take a moment to picture that). The most encouraging thing is on the basketball court. You know it can be discouraging to lose as well as fight for playing time. But what is more discouraging is when you don’t see a solution. On this team, there is reason to be very very excited. The problems when we have lost (not often) can be easily solved and when they are… My Lord, these guys are good. I’m excited as h-e-double hockey sticks because I see what can and will happen. We are going to win big-time. And I can’t wait to be a part of it.

I just can’t get over Tiago Splitter man! The kid is just very efficient. When you see him move, you think you can take him… And you just can’t. He is so damn confident and nothing deters him. And he does it all with the same face. No smiles, anger or elation… Just stone face. You just have no idea what he’s feeling. That, my friends, is a rare talent. I’m feelin’ great and playing well in the time I get. I got two more months on my contract and I might return to the D-League to finish the season and be with the fam after the contract is up. But while I’m here, I’m about to enjoy every bit of the ride. Hold up… Are you as bored with this spiel as I am? Don’t know how much longer I can do the blog thing, man… All the sweet stuff is like freaking people out. I call my boys in the league and they’re like, “Man don’t say this…” Which I would never do. C’mon, put someone on blast? But you’d be amazed at what guys would take offense to. So I’ll try to keep it as non-incriminating as possible… Batches!

Abra-cadabra…

It was so hard planning a wedding. And paying for it. Seeing as how I already was married. But wifey-poo wanted to have another wedding in the U.S. for her friends that didn’t make the one in Congo. (Yep, I got married in former Zaire… Ali bomaye and all that stuff). That to me wasn’t the most amazing thing. It was the fact I chose to spend 50 house payments on something I already did… Again! It’s all good. She loved it and it was the right thing to do. So anyway, I was a pain because I was in Puerto Rico playing and we were literally on our way to the championship.

Quick…

I know George W. Bush. Seriously. He was Governor of my state for crying out loud. And where do you think the Governor of Texas works out when he works two minutes from his favorite university football and basketball teams’ training facility? People never believe me when I tell them that.

Back…

I had to finish the playoffs by July 1st and get married by July 3rd. The schedule was incredibly hectic and I just wasn’t thinking about anything else but the wedding. Then my agent calls me and says “Washington is very interested in you coming to summer league with them. They think you can add something to their team and they have roster spots… blah blah cah cah hah hah magarena, pula pala blah blah que buena. Hey Macarena!” (Something to that effect.) I heard it before. Was I tempted? Yep. Was I too old for that? Double yep. I told him, sorry can’t go. Getting married. He says, OK, I’ll tell em. That simple, right? Wrong! (with Charlie Murphy emphasis).

Habitual line steppas. Anyway my agent calls back two more times after I said I couldn’t do it because I was getting married on the 3rd saying Washington asked if I could come for the first practice, fly back, get married, then fly back to Washington for the rest of summer camp. What? Are they serious? They would allow that? Damn, they must be really interested. I mean I used to always hear guys tell me stories about which team was interested in them and I always hit them with the “OK” face but the “Yeah, right” eyes. I never believed it because I felt if a team is interested in you, they’d sign you Frodo Baggins. So this was my first time seeing a team go out of its way to get me there. I mean, wow. For all they know this is my first wedding so surely they know how serious this is for me. Well if they are willing to let me do that then… Sure, what the hey! They must want me.

I got there and I was so excited to be on the same summer league team as Ime Udoka and Mo Evans (two good friends) and be one of the “ones” Washington wanted and to be getting married the next day. I was on cloud 9. As Mo and I talked about how fun it would be to play together, have the wedding, and that an NBA team felt me good enough to let do all this, I digressed. “Mo, how hilarious would it be if I went back after today’s practice and they cut me while in Houston?” (I have a morbid sense of humor that is shared by one human being I know. Ike Nwankwo. If you saw how we joked, doubtful, you’d laugh along.) “Naw G! C’mon they would never do that! Why would they call you all those times to come down here just to cut you on your wedding night?” Hahaha! Come on, you have to be laughing by now. Anyway during the first practice I was so hyped and excited I played, jumped and ran like a school kid. I was lucky enough to be in a 2-on-2 drill with Ime on my team. And we ran ‘em off the court. “Computer Blue!” Next.  In short, I played well. Now off to my wedding.

I, with my everlasting pessimism, informed everyone I could that I was going to get married. “Please let me know if I should just check out and grab my bags. No biggie. I’d understand.” No prob, Gabe, just make sure you’re back the day after. Okay! So I left my bag in the hotel in DC and shot off to H-tahn! The wedding and reception were perfect. I couldn’t help joking with my wife about them cutting me. She didn’t know much about the league but she chided that no one could be that cruel. (Sorry, I still think the predictable ending was funny). After the ceremony, we came back to our suite to change and my cell rang. It was my agent… I swear I already knew. “Uh Gabe, I hate to call on your wedding night (no, you didn’t deep down you have the same morbid sense of humor as me) but…” I cracked up. Dude. My bag was still in DC! This has got to be a made-for-TV movie. My wife asked who it was. So I just told her it was my agent congratulating us. I just couldn’t tell her. She takes the basketball thing much harder than I do. So I just planned a longer and better honeymoon. Must have been good. It took her 3 days to even ask, “What happened with summer league with the Wizards?” I just told her I was a prop for a disappearing act.

I read the other day my story about Algeria and Ime Udoka might have been exaggerated. My friends, when you see anyone that was there that night, ask him. Our lives were on the line. This country is a country that, when we arrived was in civil war for over ten years. To this day a majority of the people there are armed to the tooth. They were killing each other for years and you think they gave a damn about some Nigerian hoopers? Check BBC’s archives. I don’t exaggerate nor do I entertain the idea of fibbing for the sake of a couple of “ooos”. Without Nigerian Embassy police escorts, someone would have been in trouble that night. Funny enough, all because of racism. While there I asked our bus driver if he was “Black” or “White” (he was neither. rather Arab). He retorted with shock, “Je suis blanc mais bien suer.” Then in an attempt to enter a bar in Algiers, we were turned away. I thought nothing of it but one of my teammates who had played in the Middle East was used to the “reason” we were denied entry. So he went into his “sharamuta” and insulting arabic act. “We are all Africans!” he screamed, pointing to his skin. The massive bear of a man tore his shirt off revealing hand-made tatoos from neck to stomach and said, “Jamais!” as half the street started at us at 10 pm armed with shanks and knives. Now tell me that is an exaggeration. (I don’t know about the rest of the guys, but I was freaked).

When I tell you I thought I would die twice in Algiers, think of this. I grew up in Houston. And been exposed to numerous situations where I faced guns and gangsters. And never once was I scared. So when I say, I was in that locker room texting my wife that I might not get out of that situation, it is true to the letter. Race. Race. Race. What a primitively arbitrary parameter.

I could give a damn what people decide to do because regardless I’ll be in a condo on an African beach when this rollercoaster I’m on called basketball is over. Just think and inform yourself. By separating myself, I might just lend myself to malleable (look it up) enslavement. You think I don’t know that when I’m talking to an opponent telling him his PG never passes him the ball? Divide and conquer. Rather than allow that, I maintain the idea of team no matter what. Because I know, whether right or wrong, if we are all in it together, we’ll win. 

Sorry for the lacking blog… Little out of it. Nne’m ochie (grandma) died. Sucks. Hardest part is being here sans the familia and it ain’t like I’m one of those big (name) players that can just leave and retain my job. (If it came down to it, and I had to go, I would). I grew up with her and she was one of the main reasons I changed how I take care of my body. Everything, every single thing in her body just stopped working.

And the doctor said, if it wasn’t for her diet, weight and results of the two, she would not have died. Terrible. But she’s better off than us all and thank God for what she left me. I don’t deserve it. I’ll be back with a vengeance next blog. But I must say, I don’t know how many more I got in me. So I guess that means I’d better make the next few gang-star! I’d love to explore with anyone things I know and could learn about diet. You can e-mail at hoopshype@hoopshype.com and I’ll get the email. Then I’ll email back. Rather not give my e-mail on this. Until next time… Close the door on your way out. I have no idea what I meant by that.

Shalom.

Please accept my humblest apologies for all who give a damn. I’ve been on the euro-basket-tryintuh-makuh-livin-schedule. And it’s nothing nice. Tau is cool. We’re 5-1 since I came and feels good to be on such a good team. Tiago Splitter is much better, bigger and stronger than I thought. Lucky San Antonio. Not playing very much and I’m not sure why… But again, what choice did I have? I’ve played against many ex-NBAers. All making obscene amounts of money. Even though I’m not playing much, it’s fun to see old friends and play, however poco the time, against them. I’m sure there are worse things than getting paid, what would translate to a million dollars in the US to play a game I love in a beautiful country of diverse history yet getting chewed out for every mistake I make. Hey, you can pay me for that ten times.

Getting right to it… I was inspired these past two weeks. I’m not particularly sure what did it but I thought about it and marveled how different I was just five years ago and how differently I thought. And it is all due to basketball. It’s truly miraculous when you think about it. I have been transformed completely because of a sport. And to think, I would have been just an everyday, run-o-the mill asshole. Instead I am lucky enough to be an analytical, philosophical, every once in a while saying something logical if not totally “warped” (I got the e-mail)  “uh slight” asshole. Albeit imperfect, the change is welcomed and I pray for even more enlightenment. By enlightenment, please don’t take it as someone trying to sound better off or smarter than others. I just am better off and smarter for myself. And the measuring stick is simply the results. I’m happy, healthy, more disciplined and less selfish. All due to this enamored sport of mine. Here’s my inspired thought as of late that I noticed, I simply wouldn’t feel that way if it weren’t for hoops: I’m not black. Click. He’s nuts… Next page. Let’s see what’s on ESPN.com.

For those who are still here…

My conversation arose with Will McDonald and just hearing him talk I found myself befuddled trying to find the correlation between the 6-foot-10 monstrous brotha in front of me and the stories of how he’s telling me he used to be. It doesn’t even seem like him. But something he said started me on thinking… I don’t consider myself black. Whoa… Well Gabriel, what the hell do you consider yourself? Afro-American? Hell no! Negro? Oh yeah “black” in another language… Nope. Not even African? Strangely enough, no. All those were names assigned to me. Who named Africa anyway? My forefathers didn’t. Who named Nigeria or Niger? Some guy who came down from Europe and said, “Well they’re all dark, so let’s call their country…oh I got it…black.” The only name for my race I could come up with was one not given by anyone other than the people that spawned 99 percent of sub-Saharan Africa. Bantu. Meaning “the people” or Bantubonke meaning “all the people”. I know what you’re thinking. I need American cable TV or the full season of 24 over here. I was just listening to Will telling me a story on how he had problems in Madrid because the Africans hate the Black Americans, who hate the Dominicans, who in turn hate the Africans (for now I’ll keep it regular but if you talk to me I will use Bantu interchangeably with “black”). So my mind started racing as all Savants’ minds do. (No I’m not really… I don’t think).

And I remember I used be the same way. I mean culturally and ethnically there will be separation but that’s like someone from Texas feeling he/she has more in common with Texans. I’m not talking about that. I was that American-born Nigerian that looked at all other non-African blacks as lost and different than me. OK… I called them the all-famous “akata” like all the rest of the West Africans do. That or “les cousins”. Terrible. But in one of my stints in China, Leonard Hamilton dunked a ball on a Chinese player and celebrated after the play and loud as all get out, in an empty, cold dingy gym, you could hear one fan in the crowd, in noticeably the only English he learned (funny how people learn the bad things) scream, “Yoo monkey!” I was mad as hell! And caught myself, why was I mad? Because I was and am the same “people” as him. American-born, Jamaican-born, English-born. All of Bantu descent. Like it or not Gabe. In my travels in hoops, I gotta secret for you… The only people who consider ways to accept (being the key word) separation of  “blacks” are well… “blacks.” It’s truly fascinating. I’ve been to Ethiopia, Cameroon, Benin, Congo, North Africa, Australia, England, Canada, you name it. And I have seen one thing in common: self hatred. It’s hilariously terrible, if that makes any sense. I saw the very same phenomenon African-born Bantus insult American born Bantus for… in Africa! And on a more consistent basis. It was crazy. The only difference is over 7,000 years of history and culture still practiced for the most part. But other than the cultural beliefs and heritage that governs us from being just totally thrown into a cesspool of chaos, I saw no difference.

Quick…

Just looking through my notes. Funny story. When I was with Detroit, I sat the bench most of the preseason until Don Reid popped his achilles against Miami. Then Rick Carlisle played me a lot! The very thing I was supposed to be good at was my downfall. I messed up every play. He called time out and said, “who wants to bet Gabe doesn’t mess this play up?” “I’ll take that bet!!” yells Kevin O’Neill. He calls X3 (a play for me). Yep, messed it up. Sub-ed me out. “Thanks, Gabe.” Yes Kevin O’Neill really said that. Then patted me on the shoulder and we both cracked up. Great guys.

Back…
 
I saw the same thing in the Caribbean. Just because you speak Spanish my man, you and I are the same race… caballo. So after seeing all those things, I do not in the least distinguish myself apart from anyone of Bantu decent. I mean really how stupid is it that a people hate from within and separate yet the people on the outside do not? It’s incredible. I hear all the time from African-born Bantus, “those akatas are this…” Man if you saw the chaos on the Nigerian National Team you’d have cracked up. We finish eighth. In the world! Yet one of the major reasons we didn’t play the US for the chance to reach the Final 4 was because someone was pouting about the captaincy because of “Nigerian tradition.” What the hell? If Nigeria is so important to you why didn’t you see the benefit for Nigeria. If Nigeria played the US in the quarter finals of the world? Sam Vincent truly wanted to see that happen for an African nation, as his children are African (Seriously… They even speak with accents! It’s so gangsta!) But the madness was so much, he was as ready as we were to get outta Japan with sanity intact. Nobody even thought, “Hey, we just lost to Germany by 1 to reach an historic feat for a country. And even more so a race. Damn shame. So what is it for me? Hmmm… A G-damn revolution. Revolution of my mind.

Fine, people will do what they want in the end but I choose not to cock the gun that’s executing my ass. I just wont take part in it. And for me, diet has been my avenue for the continuing enlightenment I want. Remember the what if? Just ask: What if? If it is possible for me to live like the people of perfect, primal majesty God made me to be… I damn want it. If I die and it was never possible… Fine, I missed out on some donuts and papa john’s pizza. It was worth a try. But the possible benefit far outweighs the definite punishment. How does a man kill a lion? With weapons to weaken it. Here’s the thing. I believe my diet takes the weapon away. Now the fight is fair and you gotta use your hands. I’m not sure if you’re following. Make decisions from the facts you are given. Humans evolve, right? How many years did Bantus evolve in Africa? Now think for yourself if 400 years is enough time to evolve to be able to eat and find nutritional benefit from the Western pig. Or how about this, a doctor… M.D., after hearing my decision to possibly eliminate meat from my diet told me as an athlete I need the aminoacids meat provides in order to be effective at my sport. I told him I can get those proteins from nuts. And he retorts…”Son (son…wow), there are certain essential aminoacids only found in meat.”

Let’s see, 10 is the number of essential aminoacids… Isoleucine, leucine, lysine, methionine, phenylanaline, threonine, tryptophan, valine, histidine and arginine. Look them up and tell me one you cannot get from a non-meat source. Save your the time… None. Like I said, I gather my facts and I make a choice. To live a life with all the tools possible to attain the majesty ordained to Bantu people, or live at a blind disadvantage and just be happy to be well off and semi-famous until I’m a 40-year-old man with a tumor in his fanny wondering why no one remembers that dunk I had over Thurl Bailey (no I didn’t, just being stupid). My point really isn’t: be a vegetarian. I’ve just noticed a slight dilemma in “we”. Diet is just an example in an array of issues we are more than equipped to solve with the tools, knowledge and advantages basketball provides. It’s actually much more complicated. Sure every race is of majesty. I just single out the Bantu race because, shit is ridiculous.

Have you every read The Willie Lynch Speech? I think all Bantus should. Because if you didn’t see it with your own eyes you’d say it’s a fairy tale. It is quite simply an old English slave owner back in the day, teaching American slave owners how to “tame” that lion uh yurn, by teaching them separation. I don’t particularly enjoy talking about this stuff (as you can clearly see) but everywhere I go someone asks, and damn it if I ai’nt gotta answer. It may have gotten me in trouble in the past and might have played a role in my NBA woes. Who knows? So please, if you see me, and I’m trying to make a team (not happening) don’t ask.

In Charlotte I had the dumb luck to be asked… “Hey nutra-grain, what do you eat? I mean, shit, everything can’t be bad for you.” If I had a lip-lock back then I’d have paid cash to keep it on. I’d answer Jared Dudley’s (you saw it coming J.) questions with all intentions of being honest but non-influencing. Then he’d crack up. I think he was just patronizing me in a polite way. But we got some good laughs out of it. Imagine my shock when Jermareo Davidson took it to another level and became damn near vegan on me. Fuck! Just what I need, a 22-year-old being influenced by me to give up meat. Your agent told you, “Don’t rock the boat” Oh! Me no speakah English. I was only slightly disturbed by the transpirings and revelations of JD (both) until someone pulled me to the side and said, “Uh Gabe, try not to…” Basically, shut yo ass up. Yep, I get the point. I thought I did. But Gerald Wallace saw me praying over my food (I really try to be discreet) and asked, “Gabe (he mighta said nutra-grain I don’t remember) what religion are you?” Lip-locks for sale! Get your lip-locks! Two for a dollar! Yep, I went into my oral dissertation and well… The rest I’ll leave to the imagination. Gerald, I must say, is actually an impressive person. I was shocked to see how he actually even entertained a conversation like that with me. Good guy, man… Stop eating that shit, man. See? I never learn. Can’t help it. It’s like drugs. If you know you are putting a poison in your body and choose to kill yourself, be my guest. But the problem is Bantus not realizing a food you have not yet evolved to digest is a poison. A weapon against the lion. I wonder if Jermareo is still doing that diet thing. He was way past me, even back then! I shutter to think what the trainer at Charlotte would do to me in a dark alley… (Just jokin. I’d whoop his ass) One love, Mark. I did get one teammate though that was older and genuinely interested in what I knew about diet. He even got my number. Wow! Ohp! He never called. What? You thought there was some inspiring happy ending? Man, please, I got cut so quick I still got knife marks on my culo.

The good thing is, I’m still feeling great and still taking care of my body. I have made a decision to become what I call an “opportunistic” raw foods vegan. Which simply means as long as the option is there (and usually it is) I won’t eat a living animal again unless my survival depends on it. In that instance, shit, I’ll slaughter the cow myself. But I have just seen the results. That is my proof. I am a different person and I get revelations that inspire me to be better to everyone. My diet is just the avenue God chose to use to start me on the path to everything else (like stopping cursing). I don’t believe these things that “just so happen” to transpire primarily in the Bantu community are accidental. I believe they are planned to precision. And “we” have a choice. I speak about “blacks” because it’s not like it’s needed in all places. Just here, it’s kind of a state of crisis.

Sure, I’m scared shitless to talk about stuff like this and the hoops experiences that outline my thought process. The thing is when other basketball players say they see this blog and the get something out of it, I think it’s a blessing. So… I keep doing it. I honestly could give a shit about any self stroking. I also am inspired by my teammates here. Igor Rakocevic, Zoran Planinic, Will McDonald… All want to see, what if? What if I can look 30 when I’m 50? What if I can play 10 more years effectively? What if I can have sex for hours like when I was 18? Ha! Everyone’s listening now! Pervs! (But before you ask… Damn right!) Will McDonald has been here the whole season and the team thought about reprimanding him because they wanted his weight down. Don’t rock the boat… Don’t rock the boat. “Gabe, why you eating fruit all the time?” Damn it all to hell. Good news is he lost 11lbs in two weeks and the team is elated about that. But more important to me, he says he feels amazing and he wants to take it as far as he can. So far so good. Guess it remains to be seen if this story has a happy ending.

Next blog you get to hear how the Wizards cut me from their summer league team on my wedding night. Ha. Bet you come back for that one!

Shalom.