Monday, November 9, 2009

Pick and Roll: Don't Hate The Game excerpt

If you are not a reader of my personal blog, The Rich House, you may not know that I was recently included in a new publication entitled "Don't Hate The Game."

I instantly became a fan of some of the included authors as I enjoyed reading the book from cover to cover. However, I realize that readers have come to expect a good review and that sometimes the completed work doesn't live up to the expectation. So I figured a sample would serve you better. I'll even go a step further and be honest by saying that I enjoyed several of the other stories more than my own. I said it on my blog, but it's worth repeating - there are some talented brothers compiled among those pages.

So without further ado, here is an excerpt of Rich Fitzgerald's "Pick and Roll."



Chapter 1
King of the Hardwood


Even ugly men had dreams. That was not said to be funny, but in an attempt to understand the effects the pursuit of success can have on a man - and not just any man, but in particular Clyde Vernon Steele. While most men realize the need to employ a skill, acquire knowledge, incorporate a sense of style, and to otherwise approach obstacles with the face of a champion, sometimes that just isn’t enough. Sometimes a man feels like he needs something else. An edge. The inside track. The ability to keep himself on top at all costs. This is the street Coach Steele lived on. Thrived on. Made the rules for. It was the street by which he had no map for getting off.


Ж

Every urban center has its thoroughfares that pulse with activity. Atlanta has Campbellton Road, Chicago has Cottage Grove, Los Angeles has Slauson, and St. Louis has Natural Bridge. These streets either welcome you with open arms or they let you know in an instant that you don’t belong. Natural Bridge loved Clyde Steele. He knew it too, and the feeling was mutual.

It was beautiful outdoors. The breath of spring had finally managed to force winter’s dark covering off the city’s horizon to reveal a welcoming aquamarine skyline. Trees were extending their foliage to meet the nutritious rays of sun as the tulip bulbs began peeking out of the earth and the yearly offering of mulch lay scattered on nearby commercial property islands. It seemed as if the change of seasons was occurring just in time for the city to receive the autocade of sparkling chrome kissed luxury vehicles.

Clyde took a moment to adjust his tie while the procession of cars heading north on Kingshighway Boulevard approached Natural Bridge Avenue. Then, as if on cue, he inhaled a full breath and the sides of his face curled into a smile. Ordinarily the man’s composure was reminiscent of his surname, but today was different. Today his plank teeth spanned the entirety of his broad face while his commanding arms paid homage to the parade spectators crowded in the nearby Church’s Chicken and White Castle parking lots. It was not quite lunchtime; however, the smell of food emanated throughout the air. People were packed to the edges of the street shouting Clyde’s name as his car passed. Others threw up their index finger to signify their feelings.

“What a great day for a parade,” Clyde thought.

The cream colored convertible S-Class carrying Coach Steele and his special guest, newly hired St. Louis Public School Superintendent Jonathon Harvey, made the right turn onto Natural Bridge. The car rolled slowly as the two men received the horde of admirers lining the miles of asphalt. On a day like today, no one was concerned with the debris collecting along the curbs, the freeze burnt weeds sticking out of the sidewalks or the empty buildings that formerly housed thriving businesses. The presence of people celebrating had momentarily managed to wash the blight from view. Mothers smiled, fathers nodded knowingly, and kids yelled as the crowd of fans continued to show their appreciation for the W. E. B. Dubois High Warriors basketball team. Clyde and Company had just returned from Kansas City after having routed the competition to win their third State Championship in a row, bringing Coach Steele’s championship total to seven. This celebration honoring their performance was the perfect catalyst for freeing the natives of their cabin fever. Signs touting communal sentiments stretched for miles.

We love you Coach Clyde!; Warriors Run This Mutha!; Warrior Pride!; Ring the Bell, The BUTLER is Now Serving; and The Warriors COOKed the State GOOSE, were just a few of the various written displays of affection.

The latter signs paid homage to Warrior players, Kevin Butler and Tayvion Cook while also taking jabs at their State rival Bobby “Goose” Pritchard. Bobby Pritchard attended Robert E. Lee High School in Poplar Bluff, MO. Poplar Bluff was near what was known as the “boot heel” part of the state. It was called “boot heel”, rightly so, for two reasons. One, that area of the state resembled the heel of a boot when looked at on a map and two, “boot heel” was the perfect description for an area known for its predominantly good ole’ boy population.

On the eve of the big game, Goose went on record saying that he was guaranteeing a win for him and his teammates. This wasn’t especially problematic except this was the same Bobby Pritchard who after losing to the Warriors the previous year publicly proclaimed, “Ain’t nothing special ‘bout them porch monkeys. If the refs hadn’t cheated, we’d be champions and not them.” That untimely outburst earned him a three game suspension.

Despite Goose having to sit out the start of the new season, he and his fellow Generals made it back to the State championships once again to face the Warriors. They played a close and physical game right into half time. Five minutes into the third period the Generals realized that Goose had written them a check they couldn’t cash. By the time the final seconds ticked off the clock, the Warriors had held Goose to twelve points with no points scored in the fourth quarter. This was a major feat considering Goose led the State in 3-Point shooting and total points scored the year before. To make matters worse, Warrior phenom, freshman guard, Tayvion Cook lit the Generals up for 33 points while picking up 10 boards and garnering 11 assists. Kevin Butler, the center for the Warriors, added five blocks and a couple alley-oop power dunks to the final equation to help lead the Warriors in victory over the Generals – 87 to 56. It was a magnificent ending to a story book season and a perfect reason to celebrate.

The parade crowd was treated to an assortment of entertainment, and St. Louisans couldn’t have been happier. The city’s North side was fluid with animation as the Warrior’s drum line entertained the community with an ensemble of rocking beats and grooves. It was nearly impossible not to bob a head, pat a hand, or move a butt as the percussionists displayed their prowess. The Shriners, dressed in their signature hats and vests, weaved their go-carts in a variety of patterns, dazzling the crowd with their well-maneuvered formations. Dance troupes shook their shimmies and hula hooped their hips to the latest hip-hop music. Local corporations and civic organizations sponsored floats for the day’s events and provided crowd pleasers for the parade goers. Everyone, twenty organizations in all, worked their way eastward on Natural Bridge as Clyde and Jonathon talked business between swaying arms and cemented smiles.

Jonathon held the key to Clyde’s quest to become the undisputed King of the Hardwood. He had been waiting for the ideal moment since Jonathon’s appointment to make his move. Jonathon had a weakness he could exploit, and nothing was out of bounds. He wanted to be the District Athletic Administrator. The position would allow him to hide his past transgressions and ascend to greater levels of power.

“So, I hear the school board is giving Bobby Hall a problem surrounding the way he’s been spending the district’s athletic money,” Clyde said steering the conversation.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. Especially since this seems to be an escalating problem that won’t go away. So…,” Jonathon said tilting his head and raising a brow, “since you know Bobby better than I do, tell me, what’s the real deal?”

“As far as I know, Bobby is a stand up guy. He’s always supported my efforts to maintain a winning program. I don’t know if he has any questionable spending, but his problems didn’t start until this new board President got elected. She’s been out to get him since she came into power.”

“You’re kidding me. Not Carla Robinson. She seems like such a nice professional woman.”

“Professional, yeah,” Clyde said with a sly chuckle, “And nice…just ask Bobby Hall. The trip part is that Carla thought she was next in line to be Mrs. Hall, until Bobby divorced his wife in favor of another woman. He had been laying pipe to Carla for years.”

“Damn…for real!” Jonathon blurted, still waving to the crowd, “That’s cold.”

“Yeahhh. Word on the street is that Carla ran for the open board seat just so she could come up on some payback. Now she is board President,” Clyde said shaking his head. “That’s gonna be karma like a mother.”

“Wow! Sound like this could get ugly.”

“Well,” Clyde said shrugging and turning up his palms, “That depends on if you decide to intervene or not.”

“Hmm,” Jonathon mused. “I take it you have something in mind. You might as well make it plain.”

“Well…you could ask Bobby to step down and appoint a new District Athletic Administrator, with the understanding that your goal is to save the District from any embarrassment this issue might cause. The District has taken enough hits behind low test scores and school closings. We don’t need another scandal”

“You are right about that. So who might I be appointing as the new DAA?” Jonathon asks with a knowing expression on his face.

“Come on now, do I have to spell everything out for you. I’m sure you can think of somebody who the people really love,” Clyde said placing his hand on Jonathon’s knee, “us brothers have to stick together.”





You can continue reading "Pick and Roll" and other great stories by African American male authors by picking up a copy of "Don't Hate The Game." It is available online at Amazon.com (click on image to purchase a copy)

Friday, November 6, 2009

Searching

you're out there searching
trying to find a jewel to behold
failing to see the treasure you already hold
in your restless search, your hands unfold
and i fall gracefully to the sand
only to be picked up by another hand
who exclaims with glee...i am gold

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Awake

The tip of you jumps at my touch
The brush of my lips against velvet
Coat my tongue leaving notes of life

I nip your flesh and you shudder as
Heavy hands fist my hair. How many
Have known you so well

Tracing you carefully, sketching you from memory
Every curve, every dip
Is imprinted on my softest and strongest muscle...

Saturday, October 31, 2009

We Hope You Had a Safe Hallow's Eve!


May the remainder of your 2009 be filled with Prosperity, Quality Music & Plenty of Great Holiday Parties!

For the Party People who are into Novel Writing: November is NaNoWriMo! National Novel Writing Month.

*click on image for it's source.

Friday, October 2, 2009

Well a HIPHOP & HAPPY 2nd Anniversary 2 US ALL @ BD2Write!

We cannot thank our contributors & readers enough for making this one of the HIPPEST SPOTS in the Blog-o-sphere for the SECOND YEAR! It all started with this invitation for bloggers to join in on our Blog-Party! We may have slowed our dance - but we continue to groove - thanks 2 U!
Click here for a li'l history behind BD2Write & 1st Anniversary Post!

click image for source.

Saturday, September 19, 2009

SAY

So he says he wants to make love to my mind….
Take his time, feeding me images and words
Like fauna and flora, mental bursts of pleasure
I've come to treasure
Birthing new rhymes, a beat I can tap my feet to
Creating lullabies, I want to fall asleep to

Make love to my mind…Seep into my psyche, enticing me
He doesn't hesitate, never procrastinates, only regulates
His flow, smooth, like silk, sweet tender etchings
At my door, and I ain't gonna lie, I want more

I tremble and shake, trying not to wake, trying not to quake
Too soon,
But I can't hold, can't stop, won't stop
The orgasms of thought, birthing mad verse
Food for the universe…and me

His words
His words
Free me

He says he wants to make love to my mind….
And I'm thinking, yeah…one mo time!

Monday, September 7, 2009

Reflections ... on Loss & Luv...


This year, 2009 has been filled with a great DEAL of loss: quite a few celebrities & public figures, some family members & blog/internet family. I tend to lead a solitary existence - sometimes I choose this isolation because I think it'll make it easier because I won't experience the pain of losing loved ones if I don't "have" loved ones. I'm discovering that even choosing to live life behind the electronic curtain does not protect the heart. When Nikki passed & I discovered I was actually disturbed by it I became frightened at the prospect of losing Blog/Internet "family" who I have actually developed a real life relationship with and truly grown close to.

At the same time, being the conundrum that I am, I love people and am quite a social being. I've finally re-opened my heart to Love on a variety of levels: self-love, friendships, romance, even reaffirming family connections. I'm learning that it's the LOSS of Love that hurts - not the actual LOVING of others. Life without Love - as the "cliche" goes: really is not worth living.

Reflections are a funny thing... I had no idea this post would lead me to the renewal of Love. But, I guess there is No Loss if there is No Love. Hmm, that's deep. I need to go reflect on that a bit more. Peace, Blessings & MUCH Luv 2 U!

Monday, August 31, 2009

Rest in Peace - 2 One of the most PASSIONATE bloggers EVER: Nikki Harris


Wow... I was shocked to learn from fellow blogger, DC that the ever feisty blogger, Nikki (blog-author of Indigo Trails) has passed onto "the other side". Brother Dyssturbed Mined shared the details of the cause of her death.

Thanx DC for the memorial service information. If you are a blogger in the ATL area - please attend, if possible:

Nikki Harris Memorial Service. Gregory B. Levett & Sons 4347 Flat Shoals Parkway Decatur, GA 30034 404-241-5656 12:30 p.m. to 2:00 p.m. Saturday, September 5, 2009

The image is courtesy of Nikki's facebook page.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Sunday, August 9, 2009

On the Brink

Not yes and not no
Free and still kept
I'm not exactly sure yet...
Think I'm in love but there's no one there
I have to stop falling for invisible souls.
When they're tangible, the heartbreak becomes that much more real.
This disappointment shapes itself out.
I put an ugly face to a beautiful thing.
I'm on my tippy-toes reaching with anvils at my heels.
Some look from afar and assume I'm stretching my life across a plain.
Don't they know I'm on the brink?
I enjoyed a sunset once.
I tasted that night air and it licked me back like I were covered in pineapples.
I was in rapture until I woke up..upside down.
I'll mold that night into something definite
Until I can own up to my reality.
I get caught in between a stare that lasted too long and a heart that doesn't say my name.
He told me of words
I thought it would be a love letter, professing things hidden
But it was so random
I wanted to forget the words I read as I read them.
I bit my lip for getting so excited.
I'm so selfish.
I'm so caught in between everything.
In the thick of a gray area I swore never existed.
Not yes and not no.
Free and still kept.
An invisible man torments me with his loud and abrasive absence.
I'm always on the brink.
But its not my fault... and not yours either.

Sunday, August 2, 2009

I'll let it go after this post...

I just had to post that the Memorial Service for Michael Jackson was so tasteful & beautifully done! And where Jermaine got the strength to sing at his own little brother's service only God knows! I love his version of this song!

Saturday, July 25, 2009

love dreams

love dreams

love dreams
i watch you
you awake me
and i could see you
i miss you
i miss seeing your face
and oh, i wonder my love
if you come back while i'll sleep
a song of your soul
lullaby in your voice
as you held me
and make me dream of my sweet loving dreams
now you watch me
kiss my forehead like an angel
but you fade yourself from me
from where i woke up
i see the sun at my window
my heart has full of love dreams
yet i'm not awake
i still see you watching me
holding me close
when i feel your breath upon my skin
i am awake in my own love dreams
i see you
you understood me
only in my love dreams....
<3
©2009 Kai C.