Letters to the editor
RE: “In memory of Zeke” by Rick Melo, November 27, 2006.
After reading the horrible article by Rick Melo (In Memory of Zeke, November 27th edition), I was compelled to tell the truth about the so called SHAMED team, which I actively participated on.
We were just a core group of friends in which some of us enjoy the game of basketball. We put a team in the league not expecting much since two of our players have never played a game of basketball in their lives. We faired out better then we all expected.
It wouldn't have bothered me so much if he wanted to tell correct accurate facts about his team and mine, but when he is just making himself and his team look amazing that is not true.
For one, our team would not be embarrassed if he gave us recognition, hell we deserved it after both undefeated teams met and we got the better half of them. I believe that deserves some credit there.
Secondly he is sitting here lipping off our 6'7” big man. That guy is nothing but a class act and always will be. Rick portrayed this guy as a poor sport because he blocked a girl. We are in a competitive basketball league if you do not want to get blocked you do not have to play.
Rick messed up on a few facts like our 6'7” being blocked by one of their girls, when it was actually another member of our team by a much taller girl.
Another fact he forgot to leave out is they had their best friends refereeing the games. My team heard the ref say “I can't call that foul, she's my girl.” Not to take any credit away from Zeke, we got beaten fair and square but to sit here and make us look like the poor sports of this league when we were probably one of the most classiest set of players anyone would find is ridiculous, and a shame that Rick had to hype himself and his team to be the better of the two in all ways.
So after all the games and Rick's article, I felt the need to speak the actual truth of our team and of our big man since Rick's ego got in the way of the truth.
NameNo (p.s this proud teams name)
It's nearing Christmas. A time when we are suppose to deck the halls with bells of holly in Christmas glee. When we are suppose to shop till we drop and spend whords of cashola on stuff that's gonna be outdated in a year and replaced with something much better; either that or it will be half the price in two months time.
It's the busiest time of the year for malls, and restaurants alike in North American culture and many other places in the world. This is the time that advertisers of the latest technology are floating on their high horses and sitting back in their leather chairs just a letting the cash flow on in.
This is when children all around are constantly saying “mommie mommie I want that!” and writing letters to the Jolly Santa Claus.
It's the time when we basically expect to be expected to bring and expect to consume a ridiculous quantity of products.
We are expected to be consumers and live up to our political standards and consumption promise to the unwritten law of advertising; buy buy, spend spend...more more, you need. And as much as we try to escape this reality that we often wish didn't exist, no matter how hard we try and how much we try to convince, it never works.
If we are a part of a Americanized, Christmas-whore of a culture, we adhere to the ways of the advertising fishies that we are subjected to daily. No matter how hard we try to escape, the fish keep swimin towards us in ways we don't even see coming.