They’re both nicknamed LJ, but Larry Johnson and Luke Johnson are not, in fact, the same. By Bryan Horowitz, via Wikimedia Commons

I have been thinking lately about what it means to be a man and what Larry Johnson, former all star NBA forward, means to that endeavor.

20 weeks ago, my wife came gleaning from the bathroom with her beautiful blue eyes to say we’re pregnant.

Me? A father? 

It had been seven forsaken months I had tried to do the deed. I was a pinch away from dropping trou and offering a specimen to a doctor with a name like Lionous Hankerworth, just to hear him say son youz be shooteen blank.

Pregnant means that in a matter of five months I will no longer be the same Luke Johnson. My life experience will be about making the completely original life experience of Giana Grey Johnson, special.

But had I dropped bombs and boned out on a million others like Larry Johnson, how special and original would those new lives be? As hard as saying I do is, and all the expectations that follow with it, I have to say that the struggle is worth more than the success: Love is a singular seduction, not an inclusive diatribe.

Working this sort of thing out though, comes in steps, and here is how I have been preparing myself.

* As of last Monday I officially began a fast from NBA 2K13. I failed on Tuesday and attended confession, receiving 10 hail mary’s and 3 lord be with you’s.

* I have begun my search for a shotgun.

* All week I have worn tighty whities and a wife beater.

* I have combated my repulsion to the smell of feces by purposefully whiffing the cat box early in the morning and at midnight.

* My grocery list as of today: High waters, striped tube socks, Toyota Previa, Girl Scout cookies and an off-brand robe.

I wager, had Larry Johnson embraced these simple yet poignant powers, he too, may have marveled in the love one feels when thinking of their first born with their only lady.

But fame got the best of grandmama. Nipped him in the ass and turned him into money coming in and money going out. Should have been bottles and diapers and that faint sound a father hears when his baby begins to laugh.

For many of us, Summer means little to our fansmanship. As much as we try to appreciate America’s great past-time, Baseball is too slow and monotonous. We are seeking more than just an old timers’ game; more than five dollar English Leather cologne.

It is supposed to be the fun-time of the year. Many of us get time off of work to visit the world, sit on the beach, party with friends. Most importantly for us bachelors (and non-bachelors if we’re honest) the quadruple B’s are out in full force–blond, bronzed, bikini’d, bodies.

Head out to Avila Beach or Pismo for an hour and you will have plenty of memories by the time you’re done eye-surfing the summatime candy.

But hold on. Just hold up a bit. We don’t want to be creepers now do we? When you took the career job or said I DO, life took a turn for the better. Life was no longer a never-ending scene from Baywatch, and you are no longer David Hasselhoff and his abundantly woodsy chest.

Promiscuity is a bad bad word now, it will cause you to pull a groin or pat on tiger balm morning, mid-day, and night. It is not meant for us mature ones, but for the spry youngsters with a libido the size of Roseanne.

This my friends is no fun, I know. Yesterday I nearly pulled a hamstring on the stationary elliptical. I was trying to both watch ESPN and fake-run at the same time. Sounds easy enough, but nearing thirty, nothing has become easy. The “honey yes, honey of course, honey I will,” sorts of answers, are all that are easy. My life is a tedium glass house, I say no and the world comes crumbling down.

Summatime…

Remember playing ball nine to five on the blacktop with a few friends? It’s seventy five, a clear ardent blue coats the horizon, and the dead day just slumped on your shoulders with not a thing to do. Each one of your pretended for an eight hour period you were MJ, Scottie Pippen, Penny, Shaq, Larry Johnson, Zo, Grant Hill, or Hakeem.

Those were the days. Now, as a tax-paying citizen you’ve grown to resent the group I listed above. As you collect your unemployment from your poor paying teaching gig, your rose colored glasses including your young affair with believing in the impossible have slapped the basement of your life and crumbled into a million little pieces.

Summatime…

Relax, at some point all of us end up washed up. If an epic duo like Will Smith and DJ Jazzy Jeff could never produce anything more than their one-hit album, then trust me, you and I will be forced to scan, fax, make copies, and staple for a living.

But what Summatime foreshadows are feelings of freedom. Despite our limited free time and fading memories of running the black top with skinned knees and soda pop, we all have a place within us that can go there.

Who would of thunk watching men’s professional tennis could excite me like Pam Anderson’s bobbing twins used to? Now as an unemployed man I have the ability to depressingly relive the glory days and bring back the first loves of season: sports, sports, and more sports.

Yes, sports.

Currently, A-Rod is stepping closer and closer to Barry’s all-time home run mark, Tiger is trying to return to form and assume his rightful place as golf’s all-time greatest, and the best living tennis player is still playing at an extremely high level in Roger Federer. Not to mention on Sunday, Jeff Gordon won his 84th NASCAR race, ranking fourth all-time on the list and assuming at forty one, he may go down alongside Richard Petty as the greatest driver in World history.

All this and it’s Summatime. Some things to keep an eye this Summer as you either bum it or find the time in your hectic life to Tivo something. Keep an eye on the Boston Red Sox, who after starting the season 1-9, currrently own the second best record in Baseball and are on pace to be just the ninth team in league history to eclipse 1,000 runs scored in a season.

Watch A-Rod continue his climb to home run greatness, as he sits just thirty four shy of the great Willie Mays mark of 660 at fourth all-time.

The NBA draft on June 23rd is always an intriguing experience. For NBA fans, this not only can shape your future (think Boston in 07′ with the trades of both KG and Ray Ray), but offers a glimpse in the leagues future. This year the popular names are the tweeners, Jimmer Fredette of BYU and Kemba Walker of Uconn, both highly talented but not sure lottery choices as of now.

Normally the draft would be all fun and games. That is if there was not a looming NBA lockout. According to NBA analyst Charles Barkley, the owners are at a “point where they are going to try and break these players unions down.”

Like the NBA’s situation, the NFL lockout has to be the most intriguing situation for sports fans. Most of us wait the two dead  Summer months: June and July, for August when football training camps report and news regarding trades begin to swirl. As of now, both sides remain at a stall and the idea of living without football for many not only kills their Summer, but does away with Sunday beer drinking hoots around the tube. Now Church is the only sad option.

June gloom is definitely upon us. A marshmallow cloud bank over the Pacific does it justice. Not only are we concerned about our lack of freedoms living as grown adults but we also may have to live without two of our favorites next year. In order to keep the faith, now would be a good time watch Baywatch re-runs or finally take up those dance lessons.

But…

Who can argue with Grandma Ma? Any twenty to thirty something man right now remembers Larry Johnson when Larry Johnson was considered one of the most dominant power forwards to ever grace the NBA. Injuries made LJ more famous  for his affairs (nine women at once), leading to seventeen illegitimate children from 1992-1997. Which is why the Grandma Ma franchise cruises to an easy win over the MJ’s sexually implicit father-son commercial. Grandma Ma has so much staying power, that to this day I still fade off into la-la land at work imagining my grandmother as a beefy black man with a horrendous floral dress and a cliche gold tooth. LJ’s career waned into oblivion, but not his alter-ego. Congratulations Grandma Ma! You will take on the Chicago Bears Super Bowl Shuffle this Friday!

Sorry–I am still drunk on exhiliration. March Madness=this peculiar look. A look like m’ gonna kill you, but I don’t got the balls to do so. Moorhead State beating you Mr. Pitino is enough to make the Louisville fans tar and feather you, with the school band backing the proceeding with a celebratory Dixieland rhythm. Seeing a snake like Rick Pitino curl up and freeze white as a ghost, was worth every bit of the unhealthy adrenaline shooting through my veins.

The selection committee today is a one man show: me. If you feel I left out a worthy opponent for the tournament then message me below. Just remember that we here at fansmanship.com are school grade friendly and will prosecute you if you speak crudely or in an unkind jest (lol).

Day One (Selection Monday @ 8:30 AM, Play-in Game @ 5:00 PM) 

Day Two (First eight to be played on fansmanship.com Thursday, March 24th, 2011)

Eight are: 2 v 15, 4 v 13, 6 v 11, 8 v 9

Day Three (Second eight to be played on fansmanship.com Friday, March 25th, 2011)

Eight are: 1 v 16, 3 v 14, 5 v 12, 7 v 10

Championship (Played on Monday, March 28th, 2011)

As today is selection Monday, Loco has been buried away in his study looking at sol: strength of laughter, cop: cheese of production, sp: staying power. Bear in mind that before I introduce the seeds 1 to 16, that I am humbled by this process and hope when it is all said and done, you will be inspired by the things you are about to witness.

Format: 1 v 16 will play winner of 8 v 9. 2 v 15 will play winner of 7 v 10. 3 v 14 will play winner of 6 v 11. 4 v 13 will play winner of 5 v 12.

Please remember to voice yourself on the thread below, because your opinions can help sway a commercial/song to victory in the tournament. This is your time to make a case for your favorites.

Argue over the Play-in Game today, as I will not pick a winner until 5:00 PM…

1. Chicago Bears Super Bowl Shuffle

2. Gatorade commercial: “If I could be like Mike.”

3. “Lil’ Penny” franchise

4.  Converse Commercial, “Larry Bird vs. Magic Johnson”

5. Fu Schnikens, “What’s Up Doc?” (Can we rock), featuring Shaquille O’Neal

6. Gatorade Commercial: Michael Jordan vs. Himself.

7. Magic Johnson Slice Commercial.

8. MJ’s Nike, “Frozen Moment” Commercial

9. Bob Uecker Miller Lite Commercial from the 80’s

10. Mean Joe Green Coke Commercial, circa 1979.

11. Pete Rose, Aqua Velva Commercial.

12. George Brett 7 Up Commercial.

13. LeBron and Kobe Puppet Franchise.

14. LeBron James, “What Should I Do?” Commercial

15. Barkley vs. Godzilla Nike Commercial

Play in Round

Michael Jordan’s Awkward Hanes Commercial w/dad.

VS.

Larry Johnson “Grandma Ma Franchise.”

Vote on the thread below for the play-in winner and for your favorites in the tournament…