Handshakes after games are for pussies.

As I mentioned in my intro, I am a big detroit area fan of the sports teams, with the Pistons slightly to a lesser extent. Let me explain. Back when I was younger, around 8 or 9, it was the heyday of the Bad Boys, and the end of the Bulls/Pistons rivarly. (Note: nothing has come close to the awesomeness of that rivalry in the NBA. The literal steps Jordan had to take every year, getting one step closer each year, was perfect. And then to have the Pistons completely go into the tank, epitomized by the Teal jerseys, which was rock bottom.) Back to the story. So my entire family, immediate and extended, are die hard piston fans. They hate the Lakers, Celtics, and definitely the Bulls. My favorite T-shirt when I was younger was one my cousin had that said “Chicago Blows: No Wonder they call it the Windy City.” Ok, I’m rambling. but you should be happy I’m doing this post sober.

Ok, lets get this out of the way before I type two more paragraphs and no one knows what the fuck I’m talking about. All of my family = die hard pistons fans. Me = want to be different, and likes to give other people a hard time, so I pick the other team = Bulls fan. I got so much shit over this growing up; every single reunion it was brought up. So 1991, the year the Bulls finally beat the Pistons, my dad (Bob; spread eagle!!) and I go to game 4 (deciding game) at the Palace. Me, being as smart as I was and still am, want to root for the Bulls, but don’t want to be heckled by Pistons fans, so I decide to wear a red Bulls hat, and a black Pistons Bad Boys skull and crossbones t-shirt. (Yo pops-how did you let this slide? My kid is never going against the family. You gotta lay the smack down! And I dont mean smack our hands like you used to, to punish us. Because that was gay. But that shit hurt. Moving on.) On the walk into the Palace, which back then when I was small, was fucking hell, (fuck you, no parking garages!) a guy even stopped us to heckle me for wearing opposing fan gear. So, yeah, a lot that did for me wearing different teams.

So I don’t remember much about the game, other than it was an afternoon game, and the Bulls won 115-94. You can look that shit up and check it. It’s true, and no, I didn’t look it up. My mind is just that awesome. After the Pistons walk off the court with no handshakes, save Dumars and Salley I believe (good job Spider! You got another ring six years later for not burning bridges!) and as we were leaving, everyone is fucking pissed that the Pistons lost. My lasting memory from the game was I had to go to the bathroom before the hour long ride home. Bob didn’t need to go, so he sent me in there alone. But then he called me over, grabbed my Bulls hat off my head, and said it probably wasn’t a good idea for me to be wearing that at the moment. I still wonder if some enraged Pistons fan would have decked me, a nine year old, or at least pushed me in the butt while pissing at the urinal (I hate that) so I touched the old piss with the back of my hands, all for the name of Isaiah and Laimbeer. I guess we’ll never know.

So now I still get shit for being a Bulls fan, when really when I think about it I was just a Jordan fan. I probably could denounce my Bulls fanship and go to Pistons full time, but I feel that would say my nine year old self was wrong in his thinking, and that just can’t happen.

Side note: I love rooting for the guy everyone hates because they are so good. Duke comes to mind. No, I am not a die hard Cameron Crazy by any means, but as I said before, I am a University of Michigan fan. Michigan basketball is atrocious. In fact, Duke’s overrated namesake got Amaker a job there, which at the time I was excited, because he convinced Eddie Griffin (I think) to go to Seton Hall, and he could get Michigan the awesome one and done all stars a la Melo. But I didn’t go there, so I don’t have to like them if I don’t want. Really, I don’t have any college basketball affiliation. But everyone hates Duke, so I might as well piss them off by rooting for them. Even though they do underachieve four out of five years, and Coach K refuses to realize that he needs the Brands and Maggettes of the nation every year, even if they are going to leave, to get past the Sweet 16. Dumb ass.

That’s enough posts for one day. Updates have not been decided yet. Probably just whenever I think of something to write about. Feel free to send ideas.

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