It’s often hard to remember that many NBA players are…well, somewhat intelligent. And apparently, Rashad McCants fits into that category. While I was searching around the internet for something to write about, I came across some of Rashad’s poetry…and although I certainly wouldn’t call it "good" poetry, it’s definitely a step-up from T-Hud’s garbage.
MY RAP CHORUS TO "DIRTY REF"
Troy Hudson be ballin’
Refs whistle be stallin’
What the hell he be callin’
Wolves record be fallin’
But Rashad’s tribute to KG, while not exactly a masterpiece, wasn’t as bad as I expected it to be:
he came to me with open arms, like a hawk embracing his young,
and he fed me food out his mouth but I was starving for knowledge.
the type of knowledge that can’t be fed by hand or voice, but by heart.
so when he spoke he touched my soul, and my soul would smack me if I didn’t listen
the words he spoke weren’t for the ears to hear.
because his words were real, it’s hard to hear the truth when lies are so loud.
I put my earphones on so I can hear nothing and see everything.
lies could never steal my attention when he …
he … spoke.
The eyes never lie. and when he spoke he wore no glasses.
he wanted me to see the truth, which was? that everyone wears glasses to protect lies,
truth? glasses? lies?
sounds like earth, sounds like humans, sounds like America.
but if that’s so where is he from? not from here, he has no glasses!
there was an aura, a light, a truth, about him.
special? never. different? maybe. human? impossible. so I asked him one question to expect one answer
when you walk and talk and teach how come everyone can stare at your light, your aura, your truth?
because we are the same
I’ve seen varying opinions on McCants’ poetry…although I wasn’t terribly impressed with his writing, I’ve gotta give him credit for not completely embarrassing himself with his artistic endeavors (a certain former Wolf wasn’t as lucky). However, here’s something that everyone can agree on: Rashad’s stuff is waaaaaay better than this crapola from JJ Reddick:
My life story is read in poetic stages
I was once weak-minded, now I’m courageous
The cause and effect of a thousand actions
The mathematical breakdown of micro-fractions
It’s difficult to fathom the coming of the rapture
What if I awoke in an empty pasture?
Suddenly every ounce of passion had been depleted
And all my determination had been defeated
The rain pours, my tears fall
The pain subsides, I stand in awe
A lightning bolt strikes, I feel a sudden energy
Thunder clouds approach, I can’t run from destiny
A tornado tears me down, but I will stand again
My life is a hurricane, but I’ll weather it to the end