Last Friday's Blog
I would like to be able to model good behavior for my daughter at all times. But, I can't. It doesn't matter now, at least I can still convince myself that it doesn't matter and not feel as if I'm being hoodwinked, but that won't last forever. I will need to stop talking about people in front of her. I will have to stop swearing, at least until I can explain the beauty of all of God's words. I may even have to give up on Isaiah Thomas. I have been a fan of Isaiah Lord Thomas III since his earliest days in a Piston's uniform. I have always loved Zeke. And what wasn't to love, he was Iverson without a posse and with an occasional conscience and recognition that there were other folks on the floor with him. It didn't matter that he threw a pass lame enough for Larry Bird to steal it, sending the Celtics on to the Finals and providing my grandfather with more ammunition in our arguments over Thomas. He nearly came to blows with his kissing cousin Magic, but that was OK. Guys can't be kissing each other too often. I was proud that he walked off the floor after the Bulls beat them without shaking the hands of any of those sons of Satan. Even as his coaching and managing 'careers' have dragged on, I have stuck by him. I think I even said, as recently as a few weeks ago, something along the lines of "watch out for the Knicks. And now this trial is going on, and I kind of hope Anucha Browne Sanders gets hit by a car. Most of this isn't logical, and in some cases it isn't nice, but it is as clear as an elbow to the head from Karl Malone. But, maybe now I it shouldn't be. I have a daughter now, and I don't think I would want some guy calling her a bitch, trying to jump in her pants, and then having her fired. Not even if that guy is Isaiah Thomas. At least I don't think so. But if he gave me an autographed jersey ... Well, she can always look to her mother for moral guidance.