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The Fall of Johnny Smiles
By Michael – Louis Ingram, Associate Editor, Director of Scouting
FRO/BASN
“White Men Can’t Jump? They don’t have to…they own the team!”
- Humorist Paul Mooney
PHILADELPHIA (FRO/BASN): On the long running comedy series, “The Jeffersons,” main protagonist George Jefferson would always love to brag that he made “enough green to cover his Black.”
To a similar extent, that seemed to be the case with right – wing talk show wonk Rush Limbaugh, a smiling assassin in the minds of his legions of followers.
While the putrid, proselytizing purging from this pusillanimous, penile pig has contributed to the current calamitous climate in which “one lone nut” can act without fear of repercussions (because Limbaugh and others are “entertainers” and therefore, not responsible for others’ actions), Limbaugh began to really believe his trash was others’ treasure.
And then came the big payoff; the chance to be the “Voice of the Fan,” as a talking head at The Mouse on their flagship National Football League pre-game show, “NFL Countdown.”
Looked as if the little Nimrod was movin’ on up to the East Siiidde…
But then came the Donovan McNabb incident; as in “the media wants a Black quarterback to succeed.”
You know, the only part of that asinine statement that was never sufficiently gleaned was…all of it.
If our bellicose butterball had done his homework, he would’ve known there has never been any concerted effort on the part of mainstream media to promote the success of any Black quarterback.
The ‘Wizard of Oohs & Ahs,’ Mr. Chuck Ealey goes undefeated his entire collegiate career - 35-0 – at the University of Toledo at quarterback – and his reward? Some NFL asshole telling him to try out at defensive back…
Jimmy Raye leads Michigan State to a national championship at quarterback; but no sniff at playing his best position in the NFL;
Eldridge Dickey, “The Lawd’s Prayer” gets drafted in the first round to play quarterback – and he still can’t play it because the big bad Oakland Raiders were too chicken shit to follow through after he proved he was better than the others in camp (including Ken Stabler);
Joe Gilliam goes 4-1-1 after winning the starting QB spot for Pittsburgh, but has the job taken from him because they couldn’t think of a palatable enough lie;
Warren Moon wins the Rose Bowl at quarterback, but in spite of a stellar career, he’s told to move to another position if he wants to make it in the NFL (and all Moon did was become a Hall of Fame quarterback in two leagues! No thanks to the NFL!)
And let’s not forget the brothers who went north to Canada to rock the house: Condredge Holloway, Roy DeWalt, the fantastic Damon Allen, Tracy Ham, Marcus Crandall, Gilbert Renfroe, J.C. Watts, Danny Barrett, Casey Printers; all champions, all quarterbacks. I don’t remember the American mainstream media singing their praises…
Doug Williams takes the Tampa Bay Buccaneers from ‘worst to first’ at quarterback, but he’s treated like a Nigger because he dared to want to be paid on a par with his peers, many of whom with pro credentials far less than but paychecks far greater than his?
And last (but not least for now) Kerry Joseph wins an NFL Europe Championship at quarterback, but unlike Kurt Warner or Brad Johnson, is told to play safety, plays out of position for four full seasons in Seattle, and finally, given the opportunity to play the position he was supposed to play in the first damn place, wins a Grey Cup Championship for the Saskatchewan Roughriders – at quarterback.
Now that didn’t happen in 1957; that was 2007.
Nobody said it then, so I’ll say it now – where the fuck have you been, Peaches?
And that woeful unpreparedness, the disdain for real football fans – on top of the other bullshit you spewed on that panel, is why you had no business being there in the first fucking place!
So The Mouse shows you the door (‘either he goes, or I go’ – you figure out among that bunch who said it!) but like Chuck Taine, he rocks, skates, rolls and bounces along with his career, becoming a money making misanthrope, merrily mixing a maelstrom of madness, motivating millions of mindless myrmidons into believing he’s not only one of them – he is their conduit to the corridors of power.
He dogs out the newly – elected President of the United States, and is then offered a shot to buy into the Ultimate Boys’ Club – and snag a piece of the Saint Louis Rams, who have fallen on hard times…
Hard times, my Black ass! The team is only worth about $950 million; in an economy that has been in recession mode for at least eight years.
But, there’s a problem; seems some of his words have come back to bite him in the ass; making analogies about NFL games being like the Bloods & Crips goin’ at it (not the smartest thing to say in an organization with 65% Black players as members).
Someone far wiser than I once said a long time ago that “quiet money always speaks the loudest.” Admittedly, that took a day or two to sink in; but the point was made to say real money usually has a little taint on it – and the last thing anyone wants is – attention…
(“I’m Johnny Smiles” lyrics by Skar, arranged by K. Lynch; from” Mob Story – A Hip Hopera”)
Well I’m Johnny Smiles
New kid on the scene…
And when I get done shinin’
Bet those shoes are clean…
I pour the coffee and even park the cars
I get to drive the Fat Bastards straight home from the bars…
And all of these jobs I do ‘em with pride
I gain their trust and soon I’ll live large and start to thrive
See in This Thing of Ours, this is the only way
A kid from the street can climb the ladder and make crime pay.
Growing up where I did you get to see a lot of things
The guys in this club were like a local Kings
They had the finest broads all willing and able in any restaurant
They got the best damn table!
Pinky rings and rockin’ Cuban cigars
They had Chinese suits by the dozen in the trunks of their cars
To a kid like me to get this far
Andrea Doria Social Club just ain’t some local bar…
I had dreamed of this life since I was ten
Finally made it straight to the center of the lion’s den…
So to make my bones, see, I’ll do what they say
Cause I’m looking to a future, to a brighter day.
When I’m a full Goumba
A made Gummie Gump
Runnin’ scams for friends or for some straight-laced chump
All of these petty tasks; it ain’t just for nothin’
It’ll all be worthwhile when I get my button…
Gotta get my button ‘cause I gotta get paid (big shot)
When you’re made you’re the man; when you’re not
You’re just nothin’ (big shot)
Gotta get my button ‘cause I gotta get made (big shot)
When you’re made you’re the man; when you’re not you’re just nothing…
So enough about me let’s break it down to the crew
I’ll tell ya who the hell they are
And what the fuck they do;
I’ll start at the bottom and then I’ll move up the line no matter what I say
They’re all friends of mine….
So even though I know this guy’s a little bit slow
Every operation needs some muscle to make it go
Bobby Bats
The guy’s a soldier like iron…
Made his bones 20 years ago stuck a guy with an eye jamb…
Quick with the club so when push comes to shove
If the shit hits the fan he’s the man you gotta love
Tony Fingers
Another cat in the crew
Just hijacked an armored truck; the driver turned up blue;
Tight with the Don and a stand up guy
He’ll hit the trigger on his gun before you blink your eye
The guy knows the biz; at the track he’s a whiz
So good with the ladies you hear
The pussy fizz…
And speaking of chicks, the Don’s consiglieri Vic
With whose foot fetish is enough to make everybody sick
He may be a Queen, but buddy keeps the record clean
Money filtered through Geneva
Important guy on the scene (big shot);
Gotta get my button cause I gotta get paid (big shot)
When you’re made you’re the man; when you’re not
You’re just nothin’ (big shot)
Gotta get my button ‘cause I gotta get made (big shot)
When you’re made you’re the man; when you’re not you’re just nothing.
Now Don DeVito’s a large man and a legend with us all
Coming up as a soldier they used to call him Brass Balls (swing low!)
Prince on the street the man with the master plan
Took me in at 15 so I’m his biggest fan
But he’s not without critics even in our own crew
That would entertain Paulie ga-ga if he ever knew…
To me he’s the best to that I will attest
Came up from the streets and I know he wears the crest
The Don is the Don
Regardless of what it is he does
So De Vito’s the Boss
‘Cause because just because
Then there’s this girl I’ve known all my life
I wouldn’t call her a slut, but still she’s far from a wife (she gets around…)
When I was a kid on Delancey Street I knew
She’d be goumba to bringin’ drama to somebody’s crew…
Sexy and smart her name is
Gabrielle
With a whiff of her perfume you’ll be under her spell (I’m just playin’…)
The girl’s got it all but still she’s well adjusted
Word has it she‘s the only one the Don’s trusted
She’s not just a moll
Like us she’s on call
With all Gabrielle is, even the Don might fall…
Gotta get my button ‘cause I gotta get paid (big shot)
When you’re made you’re the man; when you’re not
You’re just nothin’ (big shot)
Gotta get my button ‘cause I gotta get made (big shot)
When you’re made you’re the man; when you’re not you’re just nothing;
Gotta get my button ‘cause I gotta get paid (big shot)
When you’re made you’re the man; when you’re not
You’re just nothin’ (big shot)
Gotta get my button ‘cause I gotta get made (big shot)
When you’re made you’re the man; when you’re not you’re just nothing.
As I complete this column, word has come out that Dave Checketts, point man for the group wanting to snag the Rams, has stated Rush Limbaugh is now out of the group.
While I may feel some mild elation over this, I say it never should have come to this – so fuck you too, Checketts – first for including his drug addict ass, second for thinking you could skate on it, and third for having the same mindset as this cum stain!
Ultimately, cash condones crass, but can’t consume class.
Sorry, Sweet Cheeks – you’ve been shut out.
Editor’s Note: Although I know BASN will never get the credit, the information regarding Limbaugh was constantly served “Straight, No Chaser” by our colleague Desi Cortez months before it was a ripple on Mouse Pond. ‘Way to go, brother man.
mike@footballreportersonline.com
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