I’ve been in MIA lately on the blog front due to a things like going to Hawaii, work, NBA Playoffs, more work, and then let’s just be honest: Instagram is totally the new blog/Facebook/Twitter/whatever, right? Right. Also: my kitchen ceiling fell in due to a fucking air conditioning malfunction, so there was that too. Luckily, during the trying time, the NBA Playoffs were just popping off, so we had that to distract us from the constant noise of 8 power fans going on for 3 days straight while our kitchen was hermetically sealed. If it hadn’t been for Russell Westbrook, I’m pretty sure we’d either be a) a lot stupider than we are now due to watching The Shahs of Sunset marathon because nothing else was on; or b) dead from boredom and/or lack of access to refrigerator for two weeks. Instead, Westbrook entertained us both on and off the court, and I don’t give a damn that Lebron has a ring because for me, the real winner is Russell Westbrook and his vast array of patterned polo shirts and matching technicolor glasses frames. (Note: I said FRAMES. He takes the lenses out. Because he doesn’t need them. Because glasses now are cool, like a resurrection of Urkel).
I guess this is a new trend now for young ball players: wear the most ridiculous outfit imaginable for the post-game interviews until Sports Illustrated takes note and puts together and amazing slideshow of your sartorial fashion choices. I love it, I love every minute of it. It’s what actually makes me not change the channel when EJ has to show the live feed of the players reeling off how they fucked up or didn’t fuck up and what they plan on doing in the next game (always: “Better D and pass the ball efficiently”). In case you missed it, here’s a neatly packaged showcase of Westbrook during various post-game press appearances. Go here now, you won’t be sorry. So many have tried to imitate (yes, Nick Young, nice try, but Westbrook still holds the top dog status after daring to wear this shirt which brought back fond memories of my own days circa 1984 when I was particularly proud of one binder that looked exactly like that. And by exactly, I do mean EXACTLY).