Now that the NBA season is done, it's time to wrap a bow on my recent NBA postings with a final NBA themed post. As luck would have it, while perusing the newstands the other day, I peeped the July '06 issue of GQ Magazine and thoroughly enjoyed a tight article by northside GQ staffer Lisa DePaulo provocatively titled: The Days and Nights of an NBA Groupie. There's nothing better than a custom delivered bow, y'all. Read on and get a glimpse of an underground hoochie caste system that lives only to service anyone who orbits in the NBA universe...
First, be sure to check out the article in GQ because it's pretty eye opening (you can check out half of it online but to get the rest head to Borders or B&N), but I'll be serving up enough nuggets to make you want to peep it anyway. One of the sources for the story was Brenda Thomas, a former personal assistant to Stephon 'Starbury' Marbury - a brother at the center of the Knicks implosion this season. Seems Brenda penned a novel titled "Threesome: Where Seduction, Power & Basketball Collide". Though the joint was fictional, apparently the blistering action which took place was well documented and patterned after the hoochie shenanigans she observed during her daily PA duties for Starbury.
Anonymous chats with real NBA groupies revealed a four tier caste system featuring the
The article basically chronicles the exploits of a group of four southside Working Girls from NYC who've descended on Houston for NBA All-Star Weekend, the Mecca of NBA groupies who save and plan all year for a chance to hook a player up. All four were large and in charge sisters who wouldn't warrant another look if old Tyrone had happened upon them, but they knew their business - smuggling a case of Grey Goose (the 'unofficial vodka of the NBA according to Lisa D.) up to their room and laying out their gameplan should one of them bring someone back to the room. In this case, the other three would cool their heels in the lobby until the boot knocking ceased. Lisa D. posed the question: 'What happens if they're in there all night?' To which one replied with one of the greatest quotes I've read to date:
"It never takes all night," says Danielle. "We're from New York City. We're not here to cuddle."
Daaaaaamn! Apparently NYC shortys know how to handle their business. Lisa D. also dropped the tip that if you want to see what groupie predation looks like, fall through the Four Seasons hotel (the unofficial crib of the NBA according to Lisa D.) in your town when a visiting team is playing. The lobby should look like the registration area for the Player's Ball.
Interestingly, a large number of groupies are attracted to the NBA universe because of its close association with the hip-hop culture, with many chickenheads looking for a two-for-one - a player *and* a rapper (or his bodyguard, one of his entourage boyz, one of his entourage boyz' assistants, etc.). Yet another phenomenon undoubtedly fueling the NBA's desire to import more foreign players to mute that ruckus. Some southside groupies also believe their chances are better with the hip-hop element since they seem to eschew the 'boney-assed' northside shorty or model types that the NBA players seem to gravitate toward.
The article painted a wild picture of condom fixing (poking a hole in the joint in hopes of getting pregnant and set for life), knocking boots with a player's homeboy or bodyguard watching so they can be a witness in case he gets accused of
"Groupies like guys who can fight, like Rasheed Wallace. 'He don't have to be pretty. We like a guy who's hard on the court. I never hear women oohing and ahhing over Kobe Bryant because he's a punk. He's soft."
Could have said it better myself, homegirl! So what's the moral to this story homeboys? Book your tickets early to the 2007 NBA All-Star game!!! With so much a$$ in the atmosphere there's no way you won't get tossed a bone by some groupie who's spent $5K on lodging, clothes, alcohol and makeup and ended up getting shut out of every party. That's where you come in with an understanding shoulder. And the best part? That joint's in VEGAS! February 15-19. You snooze, you lose. Don't say I didn't let you know in plenty of time...