like ripping off a ....
To commemorate the inauguration of the 2009-10 NBA season, I would like to dedicate this post to my roommate Julia.
Julia hates sports, and when the Red Sox season ended, she was lulled into a false sense of security regarding the state of our television. So, when she came home last night and I said, “Guess what we’re going to do tonight?” she was clearly expecting one of our usual lesbiatronic activities (make kale chips, feed our compost worms, put a bumblebee costume on the cat) and instead I said, “WATCH A BASKETBALL GAME!”
Every time we watch a basketball game featuring a player who has suffered a minor wound of the face, Julia asks me why the training staff can’t get ahold of some flesh-colored Band-Aids that more appropriately match the flesh tones of its players.Case and point last night: Ray Allen.
I never have a satisfactory answer for Julia (herself a Skin Tone Other Than the Shade of the Average Band-Aid American), but she does have a point, particularly when it comes to the Celtics. Boston only has one white guy on their team, and Brian Scalabrine is so pasty white that a quote-unquote “flesh-toned” Band-Aid would look as out of place on him as it does on Ray Allen.
(Also, if anyone slightly jostles Scal’s gargantum cranium, he’s going to get another concussion, and a Band-Aid won’t help that.)
So, because Julia has another long season of watching basketball ahead of her, and because last night she said, “So what was the outcome of your game?” and I said, “Uh … they won?” and she said, “Well, you didn’t seem excited enough,” and I said, “Yeah, it’s a long season,” I would like to compose the following memo to the Boston Celtics’ training staff:
Please get some facial bandages that demonstrate greater cultural competency in meeting the needs of your target population. In lieu of that, perhaps you could obtain some Superman Band Aids. Just don’t let Paul Pierce hog them all. Also, thank you for fitting Kevin Garnett with a cyborg knee.
