I don't believe in role models...but you're mine!
There was no denying that Webber was the natural heir to the Run TMC throne that was going to take the W's to the next level. Then when he feuded with Don Nelson and forced the team to trade him to the Washington Bullets. From that moment, everything bad that happened to the Warriors I laid at his feet.
- Don Nelson's deepening into madness.
- Latrell Sprewell's pouting and eventual choke-out of P.J. Carlesimo.
- The bad draft picks (Todd Fuller with the 11th pick?!?)
When he made his return to Oakland midway through the 2007-08 season, my friends tried to convince me that it was time to let bygones be bygones and admit that Webber could probably helped the squad. I scoffed. That was the same argument that fooled me into rooting for Jim Druckenmiller. I felt vindicated when Webber retired after nine games.
Over the years, continued Warriors front-office ineptitude have forced me to give up on my grudge against C-Webb. Losing Webber hurt the franchise, but the Warriors' suckitude is reaching Ruthian proportions. I've even let go of my jealousy over Webber dating my one-time celeb crush Tyra Banks now that we know Tyra's carrying more than a touch of krayzee.
So instead of harboring bitterness and reliving The Timeout or something equally non-flattering, I instead bring you Chris Webber at the height of his powers - enjoying a gangsta's lifestyle with the help of Kurupt and several other recognizable rappers.
As far as athlete rap songs go, it's not bad. Do we need to revisit this?