
Aside: It is WELL-documented around these parts how much we love Omar. He's the link between the Maddenization of the fans and the willingness of some mainstream media members to embrace the New World Order (well, at least deal with it appropriately). He understands how to bridge that. However, dude was FLIPPING THE FUCK OUT these past two days on Twitter. In honor of that, I'm bringing this back.
The scene: A hot, humid, wet-hot-towel-sitting-on-your-face-for-hours day at the Davie training camp facility.
The Poet is seated on the bleachers, sunglasses on, snapping his fingers angrily and mumbling something incoherently as a crowd gathers around him. His angered, hushed tones are reminiscent of the moments shortly before it is said Jesus Christ broke down in a fit of rage over the buying and selling of goods in Herod's Temple. The Poet cleared his voice, stood up and with great fury and anger announced to the small gathering:
NO DRAFT 2011!
BEST PLAYERS...(snap, snap)
TO HIGHEST BIDDER...(snap, snap, 360 degree turn on his back heel)
THINK THAT'S FAIR?!?!?
SO PLACE YOUR BETS, SINNERS
REBUKE ME AT YOUR OWN PERIL
FACE MY WRATH
FEEL THE STING OF MY WORRRRRRDS...MAAAAN
FOR I SPEAK THE TRUTH
AS I SEE IT - COME RAIN, SHINE, HEAT, BUBBLE, SNOW......LLLIIIIIIIEEEESSSS
MAN
PLAYERS GO DOWN - NO GUARANTEE
PERFORM OR DIE
DON'T BELIEVE ME???
MIIIICHEAAALL LEEEEHAAAN (whispers, looks around, eyes wide open - haunting)
D.T.N.S.
DON'T TAKE NO SHIT
FROM NO CHARLATANSSSSSSSSS
As he uttered the last sound from his foreboding mouth, he did a backflip off the top of the bleachers and seemingly vanished into thin air. The crowd stood in awe; their mouths agape.