Tuesday, March 6, 2007
coach KKK: Cowardly Hides Behind Shabazz' Warriors
The face of a rat. Wrinkled and rodent like. Beady eyes jutting in every direction. Black hair combed over the cranium that hosts the devil's cerebellum. Always looking as if he has just picked your pocket. Constantly ready to complain. A body boasting replaced hips, worn from years of feigned indignation when referees did not follow; he as pied piper, they as lemmings.
Next to him on the bench, the cadaverous bodies of two of the three whiniest point guards to ever humiliate themselves by wearing and crying in a Duke uniform. Two anemic gargoyles, lapping up the grotesque offerings of The Prince of Darkness as if they were jackals on a corpse.
And next to them, possibly the worst of all. A soul condemned to an eternity of stagnation and castigation. But how can the soul be condemned, if the soul is clearly lost to begin with? The leader of coach KKK's first evil inclusion in the once pristine Final Four. A man that teamed with Satan before he truly revealed himself to the world. We give him the benefit of the doubt, that at the time, he didn't know. But when Lucifer unveiled his evil tidings and preparations, the lost son of Shabazz followed. He should have run. Or better yet, as close as he was to the undead cross bearer of Dukatory, he should have driven a stake through his heart. But he followed. Now, he is lost forever. Both to himself and to the Tribe of Shabazz
He works as the agent of the godless ones. Smoothly convincing, on behalf of soul-less coach KKK, young Negroes to sign their souls away to the devil. Everyone he touches, turning a lighter of shade pale.
And this weekend, he sat by and watched as coach KKK sent a deceived young Negro into battle to do the devils work.
While we applaud Gerald Henderson for bloodying the face of the poster boy of white basketball (the plodding, nonathletic, "hustling" and "working the boards" type of basketball that bores the original human), we feel regret that it was not done in the name of Shabazz. It was done in the name of Kryshivisikizoswki (Satan's earthly name can't even be spell checked).
The evil spirit is guilty of once again sacrificing a young Negro soldier for his and his lurid legions entertainment and delight.
A bench full of scrubbish, blanch-skinned pine riders; and he uses the most viable athlete on the roster to carry out the fiendish assault. The motive is clear.
Rather than tarnish the pristine reputation of Duke basketball by using one of his entitled, trust funded, alabaster skinned walk-ons; coach KKK decided to use the Negro. Certainly the evilshness that makes up his support base in Dukatory would easily separate the dark faced Negro from the white face that is Duke basketball. Send the Negro with orders to maim. Then act like he did it on his own accord.
They say an injured animal is the most dangerous animal. We must carry that sentiment over to Satan. An injured devil is the most dangerous devil. On Sunday, we saw a devil injured by the tables turning. A devil mortified and without answer for the friendly forces wearing Carolina Blue. A devil watching the tide turn and slowly drowning in the waves of righteousness.
A rat faced devil turning a fine, upstanding young Negro into a thug.
That's what happens when you dance with the devil.