Few things are sadder than watching a person outlive their usefulness. Sometimes you gotta know when to call it a career, cop your gold watch, and ride off in the sunset. But there are always folks who just don't know when to throw in the towel, often leaving us with disastrous results. I suffered through 2 seasons of the Wizards-era MJ, so trust me, I know that of which I speak, and it's often ugly. Here's a few other folks I wish would just hang em' up for once and for all.
Monday night marked the return of Allen Iverson to The City Of Brotherly Redemption. AI, if you didn't know, was actually retired for all of 3 days around the Thanksgiving, and might still be lighting up the Newport News YMCA had Sixers point guard Lou Williams not broken his jaw. Still, the fact that the struggling team that drafted him is the only one that was interested in bringing him back, and only then because their young PG is out for 2 months shouldn't be lost on The Answer.
Reality is, he was one errant Antawn Jamison elbow away from prolly hangin' em' up for good. His debut was up and down, and resulted in yet another Sixers loss. Best of luck, AI.
Roy Jones Jr.
Ya'll musta forgot that once, long ago, Roy Jones (even with that bama-assed shag) was the most feared Negro on the planet. He's also one of the very few athletes to make a rap album that didn't make my ears bleed.
Apparently, Roy "musta forgot" that his a$$ is 40-something, and really has no business getting in the ring anymore. I can never figure out what it is about the sport of boxing that causes guys (Larry Holmes, Evander Holyfield, and yes, Ali) to stick around long after it's even healthy to still be fighting. Unlike, say, basketball, which is relatively kind on the body, boxing involves getting hit in the head, very often, and very hard. [||] You'd think retirement, a Pensacola mansion, and running your cockfighting ring (uhh, does Peta know about this, or do they simply not care about chickens?) would be enough to keep a man satisfied. But apparently, Roy just can't get enough, and last weekend, he found himself fighting some guy named Danny Green, somewhere in Australia. The results, shall we say, were less than impressive.
Look, I've never been the biggest Rakim fan, even though I can appreciate his brilliance. In addition to being on some of the biggest hip hop classics ("Eric B For President", "I Got Soul", "Follow The Leader") evar, dude was more or less the originator of the polysyllabic style of complex rhyming. Props given. But I always thought in the grand scheme of things, he was a wee bit overrated. Plus, I liked Big Daddy Kane (who arguably did all the same stuff Rakim did, only better) a lot more, so I never understood to idolatry some folks bestowed upon Rakim Allah. I just don't get it.
A few years ago, Rakim signed with Dr. Dre's Aftermath records, and supposedly recorded a classic album that got mired in red tape and industry politricks. After years of legal wrangling, the man got himself freed, and released his long awaited album The Seventh Seal. You prolly don't even know this exists unless you have satellite radio, but man, does this album suck. Seriously, I doubt any Rakim fan waited an entire decade to listen to him rhyming over some knockoff DJ Khaled beats. I doubt any Rakim fan waited an entire decade to listen to him rhyme alongside some knockoff Akon. And perhaps worse, I doubt any knockoff Rakim fan waited an entire decade to listen to him get murdered on his own sh*t by Maino. Yeah, that Maino.
Jesus, man, you gotta know when to quit.
Senator Robert Byrd
Byrd recently set a new record for longevity in the Senate, which says a lot more about the great state of West Virginia than it does about Byrd himself.
Seriously, this guy went to middle school with Moses. He still tells time with a sundial. He owes Fred Flintstone a food stamp. Dude is old. You and I both know a 109 year old man isn't doing any work on the daily. Much like the belated Strom Thurmond, his staffers are making a majority of his decisions, which leads you to wonder why he shouldn't just step aside and let one of them have the job. And that Mike Vick outburst was just another arguement in favor of term limits.
Uhhh, nevermind. Going back to actually writing down lyrics, and recording the masterful Blueprint III cures all ails.
Jigga's my Nii, uhhhrrr, African-American, yet again.
When your entire career consists of recording songs about your personal screwups that nobody else really likes, it's time to call it a career. Besides, didn't the whole "power ballads" thing jump the shark around the same time "boy bands" became extinct?
Hell to the naw!
Question: Know anyone else still trying to ball/rap/whatever who really just needs to hang it up?
 This cat officially has the lamest, most obnoxious episode of MTV Cribs! evar. Seriously, my home is nicer. I guess this means "I'm So Hood-Er".