AIN'T NO OTHER KINGS IN THIS RAP THING





They all siblings to the thug-God Ron Ron Artest. He of Queensbridge PJ's and St. John's University and many a Mobb Deep shout out. We love him here at CB Central. Like Pat Riley said, I wish I had 12 Ron Artest's on my team. And you know what, Riles? They're making crazy leaps in cloning, dude, so you may be in luck. The NBAA (National Basketball Association of Artest, where every game is a 38-36 dogfight!)

Ok, enough with the Dr. Who shit. It seems Artest has made the news today. Apparently, San Antonio Head Coach, Greg Popovich was unhappy with the Defensive Player of the Year award going to the Queens son. He objected to Indiana coach, Rick Carisle's lobbying for Artest so publically, and for what he called, "baloney," statistics that Carlisle used to back up his endorsement. Popovich thought that his best defensive player, Bruce "The Black Lex Luther" Bowen deserved the award.

Never quick to back down, Ron suggested a duel, as it were.

"Tell his coach, 'Let's play one-on-one for the award,' I'll give it to him if he can beat me."

What up, Gangster?! If Artest seems heated, you're right. He went on to say,

""It's not hard to get in touch with me. All you have to do is call the Pacers office and ask for my phone number. You can speak to me instead of going to the papers. He's taken a lot of positives away from it. Talk to the Pacers and call me. Let me know I didn't deserve it so I don't have to hear it from (the media)."

We had no idea it was so easy to get in touch with Ron Artest! So we called up the Pacers office and they patched us through to Ron's cell, as he was hanging out at the only bodega in greater Indianapolis.

CB: So, you're sweating old-ass Popovich?
Artest: Yeah, he said I didn't deserve the award! So I'm saying, get your boy out here, we'll get a little one on one, and I will be like Beowoulf on his bald ass head!
CB: But, Ron, playing against Bruce Bowen, like that's not the greatest testament to you as a defensive player.
Artest: What?
CB: I mean, the dude only average 6.9 points a game. Don Nelson could lock dude down. Why don't you say, both you and Bruce and take T-Mac--
Artest: So! Fuck it. I'll D-up, Popovich! We can do this. Bring Pop. Bring Hubie Brown, Larry Brown, Bad Bad Leroy Brown, and Jerry fucking West, baby. Bring Pistol Pete!
CB: Pistol Pete is dead.
Artest: So, lace em up, lazy fucking cadaver! Yo, if Pop wants a piece, man...The God ain't invisible, B. I'm not in the Avengers.
CB: There's nobody in the Avengers who's invisible
Artest: Fuck is wrong with you, playboy?! You wanna get bodied?!
CB: Sorry. Continue.
Artest: I forgot what I was saying.
CB: Perhaps it's for the best. You got anything else for me?
Artest: Shout to P, Hav, Littles, Mega the whole QB
CB: What about Nas?
Artest: Yo, it's like my man, Cormega, said. Nas is fake like Carnie Wilson's tummy, son. Nas, come through the Bridge, you better bring a fire-proof van because the wolves will light that ass up. Backdraft-style. Kurt Russell, bitch! I'm out. One!

JUST TO GET A REP


Tim T...hard as nails


Kenyon Martin considers turning Tim Thomas into a caserole

Much like a pretzel, Tim Thomas has it all twisted. After getting hacked with all the playoff vigor that Stanford-grad, Jason Collins could muster, Thomas was knocked to the ground, suffereing mad contusions on his back. Oh the contusions.

Tim kept his trap trapped for about a few days, as the Nets performed two alley-oop clinics on the Knicks, blowing them out in consecutive games at the Meadowlands.

The series moves to the Garden for game three (tonight), with quite a bit of added melodrama. It would seem that Thomas, who has over the course of this season put Ray Allen, Sam Cassell and Glenn Robinson on blast, as well as former coach George Karl, all for apparently holding back his X-Man level game, went on a 15 minute rant about the bitch-made softbatchness of both the Nets AND his own Knicks teammates.

"My goal is just to get back out there on the court before this series is over so I can go hit somebody. That's it. That's all I'm looking forward to...When I was laying on the floor I was expecting somebody to do something, to push, to shove, anybody. But it never happened... In that situation you have to respond. You have to, that's the bottom line....For it to go down that way and for nobody to really respond, I'm just waiting for somebody to do something."

Thomas also repeatedly called Kenyon Martin a "fugazy," a term popularized by Al Pacino in Donnie Brasco. It means fake.

Kenyon responded by cryptically calling Thomas a pandora's box (ChaunceyBillups was unaware that inside the 6-11 frame of Tim Thomas lay all the miseries and evils that could possibly effect the human race)...going on to say: "He knows I'm going to be there at 7 o'clock tonight," Martin said. "He knows where to find me. ... Lock me and him in a room together and see who comes out."

This is a public service announcement brought to you by Just Blaze and the good people at Bellvue Hospital:

TIM THOMAS. STOP TAKING CRAZY PILLS. YOU SOUND LIKE YOU HAVE A DEATHWISH.

K-Mart will put hands on you and you will be like, Leggo my Eggo!

LET ANGER BE YOUR SONG, IMMORTAL, CHUCKY ATKINS





Jesus H. Ginobili. You know you're watching some triffling ass basketball when you're counting the minutes to the ESPN halftime show. Straight up: The Indiana/Boston series has been like wathcing old people eat; full of Boston's broken plays, rushed bricks and time shattering isolation plays.

I was kind of glad to see Jermaine O'Neal and Branon Hunter get mixed up in some shoving and shiving in game one. Because if the shit is going to be visual Unisom, at least spice it up with some hatred! There's nothing more boring then a seven game series full of sportsmanship.

After getting a proverbial smack in the mouth in game one, Boston's starting backcourt of Chucky Atkins and Paul Pierce issued similar statements of intent. Taking a play out of the Rumsfeld book, Pierce announced, "We've just got to make this series into a war and, you know, see what happens.'' Ah, yes. The old, see what happens approach to war. That always works, PX2.

Chucky seconded Paul's battle cry, declaring, "all-out war," on the Pacers. Hear that Ricky Davis? It's the mahfucking clarion call to battle. Cry havoc, bitches! With Ron Artest serving a one game suspension for briefly running onto the court during Hunter and O'Neal's fight (Don't tell his P.O.!), Boston had an excellent opportunity to even up the series at one, going back home.

Alas, the Pacers responded to this challenge by going on an 18-1 run over the course of two quarters. "They kicked our ass. That's what happened," said Kentucky, alum, Walt McCarty. Enjoying a post-game brandy, General Atkins offered up, "It is a surprise to me we are this soft." He continued, "We've got to win. If we don't win that game, we might as well not even play Game 4." Oh, Chuck. You tease.

SHAKING LIKE ALI HOLDING THE TORCH



Jamal Mashburn is not really getting his warrior face on these days. No. Monster Mash, once a nimble small forward with inside-outside game has become softer then Ken Griffey Jr. eating Cotton Candy on water bed. And that is some soft shit! A bruise on his right knee kept him out of all but 19 games this season, as his Hornets teammates struggled into the playoffs. Left off the post-season roster, Mash has taken the spotlight away from his New Orleans squad and their uphill battle against the hot, hot Heat.

"This organization and the way things were done, I've been misdiagnosed a couple of times,"

That happened to me once, son. I feel you there.

"And it has gotten to the point where I have to take care of myself,"

Oh shit! Never that!

"It kind of shows you what pro sports is all about. Sometimes it's not the athlete's best interest that's in mind. They just want you out there on the court."

Goodbye cruel world! Pass the UNICEF box down the pew, people. Jam-onit is in need! These comments put Jamal in the Jared Leto Ghetto. Fuly expect to see his name mentioned with Vince Carter, T-Mac and half a dozen other current and former all-stars who may be changing zip codes this summer.

YOU'LL BE RUNNIN' FOR DEAR LIFE SO FAR YOU MIGHT FALL OFF THE MAP



Fuckin' with Jamal Crawford, you need a gat. The Chicago Bulls combo guard told a lowly sportswriter that he could drop fitty in a game. And lo and behold, it would seem that J.C. has some sixth sense, putting down 50 on a crab Toronto Raptors team, last night.

Despite Crawford's vibes, it certainly helped his cause that he let off more shots then Chow Yun fucking Fat did in The Killer. 34 shots?! Other lowlights of the game included Raptor Roger Mason fouling out in 9 minutes (hands off, Mase!), Kevin O'Neil, the Raptors troubled coach, checking the want ads, and former teammates Antonio Davis and Vince Carter getting into a little shoving match, that ended with Carter throwing the ball at Davis. Stop the Vinsanity, dude.

I'M MATT HARPRING, BITCH



Utah small forward, Matt Harpring, chimes in with this update from the Salt Lake state.

Harpring: What is really hood, people. It's, your boy, the Rubberband Man, Matt Harpring. First off I wanna say big up to all my people burning trees in Moab (stay smoking babies!), all the Provo gangsters, and of course, can't forget the Salt Lake heads, who steady stays up on the block. Salute, soldier!

I also wanna send a shout out to all my boys back in Philly, repping Ice City (I ain't forget!): Freeweezy, Peedi Crakk, Jack Frost, O. and Sparks and the whole State Prop Chain Gang! Roc for life!
Ok. Why I'm writing is real simple. I want to let everyone in this West Coast playoff dogfight to know, I want you all to know...

IT IS NOT A GAME.

Oh, I know it's a game. I went to Georgia Tech, kid. So I know the blueprint. Haters think just because I'm on the injured reserve with my bum knee, like my team isn't about to fuck people up. Well, don't get it twisted. First off, the God, the motherfucking A-K, Andrei Kirilenko, he's gonna lead our squad to the promised land. Just check Dr. Drei staying on his grizzle in his off time, breaking down the stats (and playing a little Frogger! I see you Drei, haha!)



Haha. Enough laughing! Shit ain't cookies and milk. And I sure as hell ain't Santa Claus. You wanna know why we're gonna lock up that 8th playoff spot. Secret weapons, children. We got WMD's baby. Who you may ask? None other then my boy, Curtis Borchardt!



Ayo, Curt! Ain't no half stepping, you cracker ass cracker! This motherfucker think he smart, went to Stanford or something. But the boy's got heart, and that's more then you can say for those hippies up in Portland. You're all a bunch of softbatch tricks! Qyntell Woods, you still owe me cash for those trees over All-Star weekend! When you see me on the street show me some respect. Word to Jesus Christ and the Church of Latter Day Saints, it ain't a playoff party unless the Utah Jazz is invited. Unleash the flutes, Guru! Matt Harpring, and I'm out, see you in May!

I'LL MAKE THEM PRAY FOR YOU 'TIL 5 IN THE MORNING



The Bucks fended off the Nets last night in an Eastern Conference duel. But the game itself became the undercard as New Jersey power forward, Cincinatti University "alumnus" and honorary Mash Out Posse member, Kenyon Martin got into a bit of an argument with high flying candy-ass, Desmond Mason. Martin told the media following the game "I can't stand that boy, man," Martin said. "I'm going to whip his (rear). He's a punk and you can write that."
Don't fret K-Mart, WE WILL PUT QUILL TO PAPYRUS TO MAKE CERTAIN YOUR WORDS ARE HEARD ACROSS THE LAND!
A note to Desmon Mason, if you see Kenyon coming at ya in the playoffs, and he looks something like this...



Run.

TOLD EM I FINISHED SCHOOL AND I STARTED MY OWN BUSINESS



THEY SAID, "OH YOU GRADUATED?"



NO I DECIDED I WAS FINISHED



'Tis the season for dozens upon dozens of young men to play, I AM SPARTACUS, trying to will their way into the sacred first round of the NBA Draft. Now of course, if it was me, if I was Sebastian Telfair, say, I would be up in Louisville pronto-like!

Telfair: Excuse me Coach Pitino, I am truly enjoying my rigorous academic tutoring, and the chance to forge bonds with teammates and classmates alike here in pastoral Kentucky. But I have one favor to ask before me and the Uptown baby, Francisco Rodriguez, roll through March and wrap up this NCAA tournament shit. Would you bychance mind bringing me more of those girls in the Aurora?


l-r; Tammy, Becky, Laura

But alas, if it is not painfully obvious already, I am not Sebastian Telfair. And my mom does not live in Surfside Gardens. So I say let the kids live. Telfair may ride the bench for two years no matter where he goes, but it seems like, these days at least, college is producing solid players, while high school is producing stars.
It's possible that riding the bench and practicing with NBA players for a few years does nothing to hamper a players growth. Just ask Zach Randolph or Jermaine O'Neal.
They staked out the Gatorade in Portland for a few years, after little or no NCAA experience, and then became Archdukes of the paint.
Josh Smith, Dwight Howard, Al Jefferson, Telfair, Shaun Livingston might go pro. And while I would love to have seen an NCAA tourney with Chris Bosh, Carmelo Anthony, LeBron James, TJ Ford and everyone else who bolted early, you can't really be mad at the decision.

SECRETARIES OF DEFENSE





Detroit unleashed some maxium-security-lock-you-down-like-you -got-contraband-in-your-Fruit-of-the-Loom's defense yesterday, holding the Indiana Pacers to 61 points. It was the first time Larry Brown's Pistons have defeated Indy. Pacers coach Rick Carslile excelled at noting the obvious, "This is a completely different team." Yes. Perhaps that has something to do with the fact that the Pistons have Rasheed Wallace. Pacers forward, Jermaine O'Neal had an awfully hard time staying on his grizzly because Ben Wallace took time out from listening to these dudes:



TO STAY ALL UP IN HIS SHIT! J.O. ended the night with 9 points. Despite the fact that the Pacers have the best record in the NBA, veteran gutter mouthed shooting guard Reggie Miller gothically stated, "The pendulum definitely swings their way." Beware of the fickle ways of the pendulum!