Planned Parenthood

Sometimes, I meet stray pets on the street, and they want to know all about the origins of this site. After I ask for money and comb my hair with a motor, it all comes down to one thing: Skitatime. That's what I wanted to call it; that's who, from that vintage of Euros, I found most hilarious. And it's great when chanted to the tune of Joe McPhee's Nation Time, which reminds me that I always confuse him with John McPhee, which would make Skita the Bill Bradley of the alternate universe in which there are too many Green Lanterns. In short, I miss you, and basketball has made me fat.

But yo, everything just popped back into place. While innocently scanning HoopsHype, I discovered a site that many of you already probably know of: The Hoop. If only blogspot names were worth something like domains are. This place is great as can be, consisting—as far as I can tell—only of updates on the stormy overseas careers enjoyed by Skita (nee Nikoloz Tskitishvili) and, as seen in this actual post, the Greek Shaq, Sofoklis Schortsanitis. The plot has thickened for both of them several times over; they have left teams, come back, helped, hurt, loved, and at least in the case of Sof-Schort, caught some NBA interet. Rooftop like we bringing 2002 back!

If I had a dream, it would be for these players to exist in America, and be as chimeric, unknown, and yet impermeable as the greatest J.R. Riders. I wish, I really do, that we had gotten to see genuine Euro enigmas, or assholes (Darko doesn't count, he's no character) make a mess of the NBA like the blacks have. Instead they were all shuttled quickly out of the league, or thrown onto the bench, if they didn't reinforce the narrative of international salvation. Good thing I can see that Skita and Greek Shaq are alive and well and confusing the rest of the known basketball universe. I challenge all of us to be a little richer for it.

That blog is also very useful if you want to know what Taequan Dean has planned for next. Another wish: Could I get Extra! to deliver all this news? Same hosts, tone, lighting, and all that? Maybe there's a computer program that allows simulation of this? See, look what happens when old friends roost in a far-off land where somehow, they manage to make us feel oh-so at home—even as they drive themselves away and back into the sea.

Swim for it, guys. It's all we've got.