The Metaphysics of Hoops and Beyond...

Steph by Steph

by Eric G. Satterwhite

Typically, and slightly allegorically Elders who have experienced glory
influence and school up the youth to share their story– be it bloodless or gory.

Check.

This not a chasm of sarcasm or cynicism shrouded in my yen to mysticism. Connection.

The expression reminder to the regimen of succession let the au courant talents exact its essence– while Elders lean back and homage it with blessings.

Afresh there was a slate of ex-NBA greats verbalizing a spate of Golden State player hate…

NBA actives communicated to me a consistent query were these comments over reactive? Then suggested I unleash the pen to keep NBA stuff proactive.

At that time, I listened to the retiree invective rhetoric like a fly on the wall until the Oracle called—so stop look and listen while I’m dissing– cause you’re pissing young cats off.

Steph Curry the reigning NBA MVP and bullseye of legendary verbal surly slurry wet jump shot yaks to the Global readership

I hear you vets,”ain’t that a blip”!

Blending eras and timeframes Steph’s jumper asserts by merging metaphors of 70s era sugary sweets:

Steph’s Jumper hankers one to know:

“My form is sweeter than Now and Laters, Juicy fruit gum, and Sour Candy
criticizing me has you shuffling like Amos and Andy—

I don/go for 30 like my Daddy leaving ethers of hoop heresy like Wilt in Hershey—

Splashing nets that morsel like a chocolate M&M–
shout out to Willie Wonka my critics old school friend

My touch is like the American Dream the wrist action is triple beam
more Golden than your dipped butter cookies with crème.

I serve more players than kids at Chuckie Cheese
highlight track after track flexing my elbow grease—
Where you at Klay—“I know what you mean”.

My jumper comes in variety packs /Under Armour protects me with fat stacks/my game at platinum status– peeling off dubs while you manage the dolls that patch like cabbage.

I still have r-e-s-p-e-c-t for thee
so I send you a MP3 of your era’s LP … know I do the best I can …therefore enjoy my gift its Sammy Davis Jr’s Candy Man. ‘”

Under no circumstance did Curry’s game crave silence. So as life would have it Steph’s game quantum’s to legends of bygone days it’s better to be silent than seen.

Steph’s game speaks:

“ My spunk is the MVP Supreme with the championship ring—I ball all out when rewinding the legends lippy sting—

Banners are raised and I can’t be phased with your black on black vitriol from another age— So what’s your name? Steph Curry the King 3 is me– the Association Highness Warriors majesty—

Now you can hate debate/flagellate yet you never were the shooter of Steph the Great. When I break off defenders inside the Oracle walls

setting home winning street records that will never fall. When Oracle roars in a surround sound cloud of thunder and lightning
it chumps opponents that Kool-Aid look– frightening.

The 20 sixteen team is great that’s our fate
setting Association records such as 24 straight
none before can claim this opening state.

Across the Napa Valley the Bay and Northern Pacific seas
fandom support so dense looks a horde of honey bees
the Warriors sting bumping records of home victories
computing infinite hoop algorithms like our neighbor Silicon Valley…

In closing because I shoot farther so please don’t bother wasting your precious time over analyzing my bball grind
because the only kick left is in your own behind!