Miami-
Dozens of phone messages left by Lakers star Kobe Bryant for Miami Heat center Shaquille O'Neal at the team's headquarters reveal a despondent Kobe in the throws of a mental breakdown.
Heat officials described the messages as "disturbing."
The messages, all left between 3 and 5 a.m. Wednesday morning, seemed to be triggered by the Heat's series-clinching win against the New Jersey Nets the night before. The win means the Heat will reach the Eastern Conference Finals for the second straight year, while Kobe's Lakers, opening-round losers to the Phoenix Suns, have once again fallen short of post-season success.
O'Neal, referring to the events leading up to the future Hall of Fame center's departure from the Lakers prior to the 2004-05 NBA season, made it clear that he would not consider playing with Bryant ever again.
"No, Kobe, no," O'Neal told a crowd of reporters at a team workout Friday. "It's over. He made a decision and he has to live with it. We will never play basketball on the same team again."
O'Neal went on to call the messages "bizarre" and "a little creepy."
"If we weren't on opposite coasts, yes I would be concerned," O'Neal said.
Heat officials discovered the messages Wednesday morning and made them available to O'Neal Friday. As soon as the star center learned of the messages, he cancelled his morning shoot-around to hear them.
"We told him he didn't have to listen to them if he didn't want to," front office staff member Susan McPhee said. "But Shaq actually seemed to get a kick out of them."
A transcript of the messages has now been posted on O'Neal's personal website. In the messages, Bryant starts out innocently enough, telling O'Neal "It's been awhile" and that he just wanted to "catch up." But shortly thereafter the descent into madness begins its freefall as a distraught Kobe laments their time together in L.A. and pleads with O'Neal to come back to the team.
"I need you," Bryant pleads at one point. "I didn't realize how much until you were gone-- I know I made a mistake, and I want to make it right. I am just so sorry."
"I'm lost without you," Bryant sobs. "I am nothing. I don't know if I can sit through another playoffs watching you play with another team. It's wrong, just so wrong. You are everything to me. If I can't play ball with you, I don't want to even suit up."
"Come on," Bryant says on the last of 36 messages. "You can't deny what we had together. We could have had it all. There's still time. Just give me a call big guy."
Bryant could not be reached for comment, but NBA Commissioner David Stern said he is looking into the matter and "will help Kobe get whatever help he needs."
Saturday, May 20, 2006
Thursday, May 04, 2006
Securing My Borders: Personal Space
A couple of days ago, while watching hundreds of thousands of people flood the streets to make their voices heard on illegal immigration, I was inspired to go out on my own street corner with a cardboard sign I made. But I wasn't protesting congressional bills. I was drawing a line. Literally. I drew a circle around myself with a piece of chalk, about 3-4 feet in diameter, and held a sign that said "Kindly leave this space alone, or I'll punch you in the face." Some people will call that an act of desperation. Well, desperate times require desperate measures. And I'm getting desperate. The USA-Mexico border is not the only artificial boundary that is unsecure these days.
Yes, folks, my borders are under siege, and its only getting worse. I had three colds last week alone, and I barely go out in public. And don't think it was just one cold that got better and worse-- I know it was three, because one day I was completely fine, then the next day I could hardly breathe and my eyes watered so much I could barely open them. Then the day after, I'm totally fine again, and so on. But someone pointed out that it could have just been allergies, which would really be too bad. If that's the case, I guess I'm allergic to people. Of course, I know I'm not allergic to all people. . . just the one's I don't want to be standing right next to. I know this because there are plenty of people out there that don't make me sick. Well, a good handful at least.
But it seems like more and more people think they can just waltz right into my personal space these days, bringing with them their pet dander, pathogens, putrid perfumes, fetid tobacco tar-breath, toxic hair products and cancerous body sprays. All too common nowadays are the work-week hand shakes, barbecue back-slaps, leisure-time fist pumps, church get-together hugs, Sunday Mass hand-holding and supermarket checkout-line brush-bys that make my immune system cringe.
So, like our fearless U.S. Senate and House of Representatives, I've decided to stop the madness. Be advised that I am passing new Personal Space legislation effective immediately. Anyone who enters my personal space without authorization will be immediately deported, by force if necessary. Only those who have been allowed to enter my personal space continuously for the last five (5) years will be allowed access without passing a rigorous written exam. Those who seek to apply for personal space privileges must request the written exam (which will only be provided electronically) and will have one week to complete the test from the time they receive it.
The first portion of the test will consist of several multiple choice questions covering details of my life and history. That will be followed by a short answer section in which the applicant must guess what I would do in various situations. The remainder of the test will be an essay question in which the applicant will outline ten (10) reasons why he or she should be allowed to enter my personal space. Finally, the applicant must sign a pledge that they promise not to give me any diseases. Certain individuals will be granted special amnesty, if I find them to be vital to the functioning of my life. So doctors, health care workers, EMT's, police, firemen, and of course my trusty dentist will have the testing requirement waived, because, really, they are doing work for me that nobody else would ever want to do. Besides, these are the good people, the heroes, that have entered my personal space to make things better, not worse.
Of course, now that I think about it, even my new personal space rules won't stop people from invading my personal space anyway, whenever they want. If I have to keep punching people in the face all the time, besides my arm getting really tired, I'm not going to have much time to do anything else, like eat or go to work. But if I just let these invaders continue to walk all over me with all of their strange germs and hive-inducing colognes, I'll probably end up with some kind of condition, and that's no good. I'm not a germaphobe, but it has to stop somehow. I'm buying a bubble.
Viva los burbuja!!
Yes, folks, my borders are under siege, and its only getting worse. I had three colds last week alone, and I barely go out in public. And don't think it was just one cold that got better and worse-- I know it was three, because one day I was completely fine, then the next day I could hardly breathe and my eyes watered so much I could barely open them. Then the day after, I'm totally fine again, and so on. But someone pointed out that it could have just been allergies, which would really be too bad. If that's the case, I guess I'm allergic to people. Of course, I know I'm not allergic to all people. . . just the one's I don't want to be standing right next to. I know this because there are plenty of people out there that don't make me sick. Well, a good handful at least.
But it seems like more and more people think they can just waltz right into my personal space these days, bringing with them their pet dander, pathogens, putrid perfumes, fetid tobacco tar-breath, toxic hair products and cancerous body sprays. All too common nowadays are the work-week hand shakes, barbecue back-slaps, leisure-time fist pumps, church get-together hugs, Sunday Mass hand-holding and supermarket checkout-line brush-bys that make my immune system cringe.
So, like our fearless U.S. Senate and House of Representatives, I've decided to stop the madness. Be advised that I am passing new Personal Space legislation effective immediately. Anyone who enters my personal space without authorization will be immediately deported, by force if necessary. Only those who have been allowed to enter my personal space continuously for the last five (5) years will be allowed access without passing a rigorous written exam. Those who seek to apply for personal space privileges must request the written exam (which will only be provided electronically) and will have one week to complete the test from the time they receive it.
The first portion of the test will consist of several multiple choice questions covering details of my life and history. That will be followed by a short answer section in which the applicant must guess what I would do in various situations. The remainder of the test will be an essay question in which the applicant will outline ten (10) reasons why he or she should be allowed to enter my personal space. Finally, the applicant must sign a pledge that they promise not to give me any diseases. Certain individuals will be granted special amnesty, if I find them to be vital to the functioning of my life. So doctors, health care workers, EMT's, police, firemen, and of course my trusty dentist will have the testing requirement waived, because, really, they are doing work for me that nobody else would ever want to do. Besides, these are the good people, the heroes, that have entered my personal space to make things better, not worse.
Of course, now that I think about it, even my new personal space rules won't stop people from invading my personal space anyway, whenever they want. If I have to keep punching people in the face all the time, besides my arm getting really tired, I'm not going to have much time to do anything else, like eat or go to work. But if I just let these invaders continue to walk all over me with all of their strange germs and hive-inducing colognes, I'll probably end up with some kind of condition, and that's no good. I'm not a germaphobe, but it has to stop somehow. I'm buying a bubble.
Viva los burbuja!!
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