12/28/12
I've always wondered if fame would change me. We've all seen celebrities rise to stardom and then become disillusioned with mountains of cocaine and floozies until their noses bleed blood and illegitimate children but could it really happen to one of us? If given the limelight would we do the same? I was lucky enough to find out with a small reflection of the limelight at the Battle in Seattle.
Every year the Gonzaga men's basketball team travels to Seattle after finals week to play a rival in the Key Arena. It's a huge event that attracts students and alumni to plunder the the moist metropolis for every drop of alcohol it ever had. I chose this opportunity to dress up as GU's golden boy from the past, Adam Morrison. His career has had ups and downs since getting drafted, he most recently had a spot on the Portland Trail Blazers practice team but sadly missed the cut for the NBA season.
I'm already tall and skinny so to look like Adam it only took a jersey and a woman's wig. The piece d'resistance was a touch of mascara on my ginger stache that made me a spitting image of Master Morrison. Among zag fans there was no need for explanation. I was famous.
Upon walking into a GU pregame I immediately felt the eyes on me. Some people burst out laughing and pointing…they were super jealous. "Oh. My. God!" filled the air, "Adam!" Girls whispered to each other in obvious longing for my 3-ball sinking arms to wrap around them. Some people actually thought I was the real thing which turned out surprisingly awkward. When a girl walks up and says "Hey, can I buy you a drink?" the initial reaction is why? This girl has no idea who I am yet she's willing to dish out hard-earned (or Daddy's) cash to buy some time with the man himself? What on earth do you say to that? I went with the truth, "No, I'm already holding a full pitcher and a full glass, sorry whoever you are."
It's odd when everybody in the room knows your name. Unfortunately life doesn't get easier when all eyes are on you, it's impossible to get away with a refreshing pick of the nose or a much needed scratch of the bum. Eventually I got used to it, and after a while I just expected people to know who I was.
It was nice thinking that everybody knew the point of my getup, but a lot of people admitted that I looked like "a skinny greasy-haired tranny." Welp, mission accomplished.
If you've read Chapter 19 you'll know that I am a huge bandwagoner of sports, but the line is drawn at GU basketball. I know there are a lot of typical tall clean-cut ballers on the court who make great plays on a regular basis. For the purposes of winning games, that's fine, but every team needs a goofy powerhouse to make for a truly pure NCAA basketball experience.
That's where Adam came in handy, making magic by sinking 3s and winning games while looking more like a Spokie than the bums outside. Without juxtaposing the two too directly, Kelly Olynyk is now GU's resident goofballer. With flowing hair tamed partially by a hippie headband that takes your attention away from his kankles, the kid has some rad white guy steez. Say what you want, I'm glad we still have a stylistically unconventional team member in the Kennel. I will always respect Adam Morrison for the flair he brought to the sport and of course the headway he made for mustachioed men everywhere.
Alas for all the praise he deserves, the elephant in the room must be addressed. Adam did cry after his last game as a Bulldog. It wasn't with the humble tears of a nostalgic Senior who will miss the spoils of college, but with the hissy fit tantrum of an emotionally untamed Junior who expected to make it farther in the NCAA tournament. Normally I'd be even harsher on this display of shear weakness but now I have an insight into his delicate psyche.
At the end of my night as a basketball God, I went to Dick's for a famous Seattle burger. Arriving 2 minutes past closing time didn't seem like a big deal to Adam Morrison, but the security guard took issue with tardiness. I tried to humbly explain who I was and that it was no big deal that he break a small rule for a retired deity but he wasn't a Gonzaga fan. This made Adam throw another hissy fit that ended in him getting pushed out the door by a rent-a-cop. Adam was not pleased and resigned to grab a cab before the waterworks started.
However convenient and glamorous it may seem, fame changes you. I started out an eager impersonator and ended a ratty snob. If you don't believe me, look at the latest poster-boy for Coco Chanel, he used to be a Fight Clubbing badass, now he spritzes Eau d'Toilet to pay for adopted child N°5.
Adam, if you're reading this don't be offended, you obviously have a fan base that wants you to return to the court. In the event of such a comeback, I'm available for double work anytime.
