With the NBA taking a night off from playoff games, the league decided to throw a private dinner for its members. The get together took place at a Chili's in downtown LA. It was a night reserved for good conversation, a few laughs, and a couple dozen fajitas. Thankfully, the restaurant's audio/video security equipment was able to capture the epic evening, giving us a glimpse into the personal lives of real NBA stars and how they interact during a fine meal.
Hostess: Welcome to Chili's, guys! Right this way.
(The NBA guys take their seats around a large circular table. The commissioner kicks off the festivities with a greeting and mini-toast.)
David Stern: Hello, everyone. I'd like to say thank you to all the guys that showed up here tonight.
Big Baby Davis: Hey man, it's our pleasure. You say free food...I come callin'!
Stern: Actually Glen, each man will be responsible for his own check tonight. I apologize for that misunderstanding.
Davis: Aww, you gotta be kiddin' me! I was planning on doing some major damage here tonight. Guess I'll have to tone it down, now.
Anthony Johnson: Dang, me too! I'd already set my mind on downing at least a dozen corn dogs up in here! Guess it's a good thing since I got a game tomorrow night, and the guy playing in front of me, Rafer Alston, has suddenly turned into Damon Jones.
Tyronn Lue: I know, man! Coach Van Gundy even told me to be ready!
Johnson: Alright, now you're goin' too far! Coach never said that.
Lue: Haha, I know. But a man can dream, right?!?
Shane Battier: Pipe down, the both of you! It's time to order. (Talking to waitress) Yes, I'm going to have an appetizer of the Southwest Egg Rolls.
Waitress: Anything to drink with that, sir?
Battier: Yes. Just go ahead and bring me all the Rogaine you can find in this square mile radius, and I'll take it from there. (Rubs scalp and forehead simultaneously while the rest of the table looks on in horror)
Waitress: And for you, Mr. Oberto?
Luis Scola: Scola! My name Luis Scola!! Why does everyone think I Fabricio Oberto? Just because we both from Argentina and have hair style of 15-year old girl??!
Chauncey Billups: Yo, chill out big fella. I actually thought you were Sasha Vujacic when I walked in, so we all make mistakes.
Scola: Meester Big Shot!! I did not even know you here.
Billups: Actually, I was sittin' in the other room, but the table I was at said my meal was too expensive to cover. Get this. I'd been with them for over three hours...I'd been nothing but good to all the other people...we were doing a ton of fantastic things during the meal...and they sent me away just because I was a tad on the pricey side. You guys believe that? They will miss me when they realize I'm gone from their table and I aint ever comin' back.
Commissioner Stern: Well, Chauncey, you do seem very motivated. That's very nice to see.
Billups: Yeah, man. It's a whole new me now. I'm even gonna start takin' it to the hole and drawing contact again.
(While saying this, Chauncey shows an example by pretending to bump into the man walking by. No contact was made, but the customer goes flying backwards with his arms flailing, and winds up knocking over several tables and dishes along the way.)
(Violet Palmer jumps out of her chair with one hand behind her head and the other arm extended forward)
Palmer: I got a charge on the offensive player...we're going the other way!
Billups: Are you f#*$ng serious?!? I didn't even touch the man!
The fallen customer slowly rises, with a devilish grin draped across his face. It is revealed to be Cavaliers' forward Anderson Varejao.
(The Chili's staff comes over to help Varejao out of the restaurant. He is able to make it out to his car, but only after a wheelchair was retrieved for his short transport to the door. The man knows how to sell a call.)
Chris 'Birdman' Andersen: What a disgrace that Varejao is! Sure, I've done more drugs in the last 10 years than Whitney Houston and Josh Hamilton combined, but at least I can sleep at night knowing I play D like a real man!
Maitre D': Excuse me, Mr. Birdman. Hate to interrupt your meal, but we do require that each of our restaurant patrons wear sleeves at all times. Those tattoos you have are frowned upon here, as are pets, so may we ask that you also get rid of your snake.
Andersen: Snake? What snake?? I didn't bring any sna...
George Karl: Alright Chris, we're outta here. Pull up your pants and get up from the table.
(Chauncey has finally stopped arguing with Violet Palmer over the Varejao call from earlier. She sits back down and starts conversing with her fellow refs.)
Violet Palmer: You guys will never believe what happened when I got home last night! My husband was already fast asleep in bed, and when I reached over to wake him, I realized that he'd positioned masking tape all over the sheets to create a "restricted area," and he'd placed himself perfectly in the semi-circle. I couldn't even touch him! I mean, I knew all the NBA players hated me, but my own husband?!??
Steve Javie: C'mon Violet, you coulda woke him up. You've never understood that circle anyway, have you? I can't remember the last time you got a block/charge call right!
Palmer: You're right, Steve. That thing is impossible!
(A little kid approaches Palmer holding a yellow pad of paper and a big Sharpie marker)
Kid: Oh my god, I can't believe it's you! You're my favorite!! Wow!! Hey Mom, come over here, Larry Fitzgerald is about to sign an autograph for me!! Thanks, Mr. Fitzgerald, you're the best!!
(She signs the autograph quickly and begins to stand up from the table)
Palmer: Alright fellas, that's enough for me. I'm turning in. How much do I owe?
Javie: Ahh, don't worry about it. Your atrocious officiating makes us all look so good in comparison...that is payment enough! Just go have a good night.
(A waiter approaches a side table where Laker sidekicks Shannon Brown, Jordan Farmar, Luke Walton, and Sasha Vujacic are all eagerly anticipating the arrival of their food...)
Waiter: Here you are gentlemen, four giant helpings of our special Rice Pilaf.
Farmar: No, no, no!! You got it all wrong. We didn't want Rice Pilaf...we are Rice Pilaf!!
Waiter: Oh, I do apologize, sir. We will correct the error right away, Mr. Pilaf.
(Over at the Hawks' table, Zaza Pachulia is quietly sipping on a Corona while Josh Smith clumsily picks at his Grilled Chicken Salad)
Mike Woodson: Dang it, Josh! Keep that food on the table. I don't want to see one more drop fall into your lap!
Josh Smith: Back off, coach! I'm on the phone with Bibby's family...they're trying to set up a funeral service for Mike. Not easy holding my cell and my fork at the same time.
Woodson: Listen to me, boy. Put the cell phone in your left hand, and place the fork in your right. That way you can do both.
(He awkwardly tries to clutch his fork with the right hand...after a dozen unsuccessful attempts, Smith angrily fires it to the floor and begins tearing through the salad with his bare hands)
Smith: It's impossible!! I can't do it! How do you expect me to hold my fork using only my right hand?? I'm lefty, ya know!
(The rest of the table erupts in laughter.)
Woodson: Yeah, Josh. We've all noticed. Maybe you should think about using both of your mitts out there on the court. I mean, for Christ sake, I haven't seen a guy this dependant on his left hand since Pachulia was a sophomore in high school!!
(Smith and Woodson begin to tussle and have to be separated by several Hawks players. To nobody's surprise, Flip Murray remains expressionless throughout the entire altercation.)
Commissioner Stern: Attention, everybody. I would like to thank all of you for coming. It's been another tremendous night for the National Basketball Association. Remember...same time, same place, next year. Just don't tell the Birdman.
Which NBA players would you like to grab a bite with?? Drop a comment below or shoot me an e-mail at highsockslegend@gmail.com
No comments:
Post a Comment