TO Charles Barkley’s credit, his capacity for audacity and proclivity for stupidity are unrivaled in NBA annals.
Granted, that covers tons of tainted territory, but Sir Chump tilts the scale of generally every affliction and addiction mastered by man.
Judging by how often infatuated journalists contact Barkley for his “valued” opinion, TNT’s award-winning class clown and advertising go-to fool has evolved, effortlessly, into the NBA’s prized spokesman on any aberrant behavior that comes to mind.
Let this be a lesson to the incurable kid inside all of us; it pays to do your own homework.
Yeah, you name it – habitual gambling, deviant drinking, overeating, sexcapades . . . the majority of which he does behind the wheel – and Sir Cumference is shamelessly proud to number it.
“Once a philosopher, twice a pervert,” that’s Barkley’s credo.
His other motto: “Nothing in moderation” . . . overindulgence he can’t help but repeat and repeat as long as he refuses to admit he’s compulsive repulsive.
Why should he come clean when David Levy protects, excuses, enables and overlooks . . . except for an occasional beckoning to the principal’s office for a serious chat. For the most part, the president of TNT cheers him on and laughs at the antics of his house hoople.
So much for thinking David Stern is in charge of all things NBA.
In other words, do not, I reiterate, do not, expect Levy to take any action – other than a token scolding, complete with Barkley’s normal insincere apology – in the wake of his latest incident with oomph.
According to an extensive Arizona police report, it seems Sir Charlatan was gassed with his foot on the gas, thus fortifying his long-held position as poster child for the league’s “Over the Limit, Under Arrest” public service campaign. But he had a good reason, of course . . . he was in a hurry to conduct his own tribute to Bill Clinton by reenacting the Monica Moment.
Shocking that Barkley, this man of splendiferous social conscience who’s quick to preach responsibility and respect for the game to today’s players (LeBron James was unavailable for comment), would get caught rolling a stop sign reeking of booze en route to a Jiffy Lube.
Shocking the man would (presumably) have to pay for the privilege when so many media mopes and employers have provided the same service to him for decades . . . gratis.
What’s not shocking is Sir Churlish’s decision to discuss his impending Monica Moment and consummate previous score registered by his consenting partner with the arresting officer; why wouldn’t his candor and charm set him free when it’s worked so many times in the past?
All I can say is thank God Barkley didn’t kill or maim someone while allegedly performing his stupid human tricks in drive.
Over the years I’ve heard a hundred eyewitness accounts re his binge-drinking that starts early in the day and lasts until shut-eye. It’s frightening to think how many times he has crossed that same dangerous line, endangering the public, without getting caught . . . or charged, anyway.
This was Barkley’s third documented arrest on assorted violations. I guess we should be grateful he didn’t throw anyone through a plate-glass window . . . again. Or spit in the face of young female fan . . . again. Or make a play for an owner’s underage daughter . . . again. Or louse up a night or a playoff series for his team . . . again.
“That’s why you’ll never have one of these,” Danny Ainge once screamed at Barkley, pointing to his championship ring after his teammate stayed out all night in New York City and cost the Suns a nationally televised win, playing sub par against the Knicks with a hangover.
I don’t care what the following people are prepared to say now; Barkley’s reckless life style and non-compliance to team rules and conditioning was a primary reason Julius Erving retired a year or two early, Billy Cunningham prematurely gave up coaching, and Kevin Johnson, A.C. Green, Clyde Drexler and Scottie Pippen demanded the Suns and Rockets trade Sir Childish.
Other than all of the above, I can’t think of anything else bad to say about Barkley. Then again, his comments on racism do tend to lack credibility. Who can forget his perceived prejudice regarding Tiger Woods when golf tournaments started increasing the hole yardage . . . as if the Caucasian Persuasion didn’t have to play the exact same course.
Milk Dud Head’s rants are so regularly removed from realism, I feel compelled to keep him away from sharp objects/Kevin Garnett’s serrated elbows.
As for Barkley’s sermons about excess eating, gambling, alcohol consumption, they might have some legitimacy if they weren’t coming from someone with problems controlling the waist line and the pass line.
If memory serves, didn’t Barkley get sued by Steve Wynn this past May for some 400-large in Vegas gambling debts?
Not to worry . . . he paid up, and everyone around his sucked up.
Just like Manny Being Manny, it’s just Charles Being Charles.
A wink, a nod and half-hearted regret (just change the date[s] and offense[s] – and a couple of giggles from TNT’s peanut gallery – and everything’s cool.
Talk-show hosts are lined up right now trying to book Barkley, provided, of course, the police don’t beat them to it.
To revisit my original theme, to Barkley’s credit, he’s way ahead of schedule in his quest to become governor of Alabama. The usual procedure is to screw up once you reach office.