Friday, February 16, 2001
P-Doc isn't fly, even for a white guy
Everybody's a hyphen now. C-Webb, J-Lo, K-Mart, D-Miles. If you sing hip-hop or play basketball for pay and you are not a hyphen, something is missing in your life.
What if the NBA guys of the '60s and '70s — my heros — did this?
“Introducing the legendary guard from the University of Cincinnati ... O-Rob.”
Could Bill Russell ever be B-Russ?
Some wouldn't work. Try shortening Wilt Chamberlain or Walt Frazier. How about John Havlicek? Shorten Havlicek, you sound like you're coughing up dinner. Bill Bradley, square of squares, a real Keds man, could never be, uh, B-Brad.
But that's how it goes now in basketball and entertainment circles. That, and this:
Bling-bling.
Do you know bling-bling? The first time I heard someone say “Bling-bling”, I looked at the telephone. “Tell 'em I'm not home,” I said. People think the NBA's in deep because the participants are too young, too selfish and too lost in the Land of Ego. It's not that. It's the words. No wonder nobody watches the NBA. You can't understand the players.
Unless you are “live.”
Which I am not.
Basketball speaking-wise.
I call Terry Nelson — T-Nel — the former UC basketball player and current teacher and coach at Western Hills High. T-Nel is never at a loss for words. He is the bling-blinging-est fellow I know.
“Yo, T. Whassup with bling-bling, dog?” I say.
“Excuse me?” he says.
“Sorry. I stepped out of my league there for a minute. What is bling-bling? Who has it? Is it contagious?”
Bling-bling is the thing
“Bling-bling is the showcasing of jewelry,” says Nelson. “When the sun hits diamonds, they glisten. It doesn't make a sound. But if it did, it'd be "bling-bling.'”
“So it means flash and flair?”
“Exactly.”
“Can a middle-class white guy from the suburbs get bling-bling?”
“It all depends,” says Nelson. “If he's at the YMCA playing pick-and-roll leagues with flair, yeah. I play at the YMCA in Lebanon, and some white guys up there got a little bling-bling.”
In Lebanon?
On the bling-bling scale, Iverson and Kobe are a 10. John Stockton is a minus-400. Jeff Van Gundy is taking a journey to the center of the earth.
If you are bling-bling, you are, by association, “live.” (Just when I thought things were “cool,” they became “fly.” Just as quickly, they were “live.” See what I mean about the NBA?)
Homeys in his crib
For years, nay, decades, I could get along with “man” and “cool.” For a few, regrettable seasons, “far out” worked. Now, using “far out” in casual conversation is the verbal equivalent of wearing white, low-cut Chucks.
“What do you call your apartment?” I ask Nelson.
“My crib. It's always been the crib.”
“Is "homey' acceptable anymore?”
“That's all I use,” Nelson says. “You got to keep in touch with your home skillet.”
Skillet?
“What about dog?” I ask. “Are there dogs still?”
“That's your best friend.”
“Better than a homey?”
“Better than a homey.”
“Thanks, dog,” I say.
“All right, P,” Nelson says.
This is P-Doc, yo. Later.
E-mail: pdaugherty@enquirer.com. Past columns at Enquirer.com/columns/daugherty
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DAUGHERTY: P-Doc isn't fly, even for a white guy
