In 2011, America was doing just fine. And then this happened ...
President Barack Obama decided to have some fun with an orange-faced reality star. Unbeknownst to the rest of the world, it was this moment that would change the course of American history. On that day, Donald Trump decided that he would punish all of us by running for office. The rest has been a dismal tailspin into the fiery pit of hell, or Trump’s stomach after a long night with KFC.
Prior to LaVar Ball, American basketball was doing just fine, and then his middle son, LiAngelo—aka the one not named Lonzo or LaMelo—stole a pair of sunglasses during a goodwill trip to China with his then-UCLA college team, and basketball as we know it changed. Some of us—those who were enamored of the circus that is the Ball family—watched as LaVar took LiAngelo and LaMelo (who’s now being homeschooled because his father had a disagreement with his high school coach) over to Lithuania. That was a bust. The Balls flamed out after playing against D-league European talent.
And now I have no idea who the Big Baller LaVar is expecting to compete with, but he’s started his own league, the Junior Basketball Association, for flameouts who don’t want to go to college but would like to earn NBA money.
It was a huge, adventurous task that I actually applauded in the beginning, since I’m all for a black man going up against the system to start something new. And then it debuted to a crowd of tumbleweed. (You could literally stand in the middle of the court and throw a tennis ball into stands and never hit anyone.)
There is no better way to say this, but that this brand of basketball is horrible. Not-even-watchable-during-an-NBA-lockout horrible. This level of basketball feels like a punishment in the same way that Trump’s presidency does. America must’ve done something horrible in a past life to be treated this way. Below is one sequence that pretty much sums up life in the JBL.
At this point, I just want Trump and Big Baller LaVar to leave the gym. Immediately.