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Player-by-Player: Martell Webster

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Ladies and gentlemen, here to pay sad tribute to Martell Webster through a slightly-mangled version of their hit "The Boxer"...Simon and Garfunkel.

                          

Martell's just a poor boy and his story's often told
How he squandered a whole season on a pocketful of minutes
and false promises...all lies and jest!
Though he gave us what he had to give it wasn't quite his best

When he left his home and his family he was no more than a boy
In the company of grown men
In the glare of huge arena venues playin' scared...laying low
And he tried hard to defend them but he was too soft and slow
And he heard the coaches screaming, "No, no no!"

Lie-la-lie, Lie-la-lie-la-lie-la-lie
Lie-la-lie, Lie-la-lie-la-lie-la-lie-la-la-la-la-lie

Camping always in the corner he went looking for his shot
But he got no passes
Just a "Come on young guy, drive it" from the other team
I do declare...it seemed every time he did it there were six defenders there
Ooo-la-la La-la-la-la

Now he's laying out his summer clothes and wishing he'd stayed home
Back at home, with the U-Dub staff of coaches he'd have learned to play
Learned to play-ay way back home...

On the hardwood stands a forward and a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders of every guy that smacked him down
Or burned him `til he cried out in his anger and his shame,
"I am leaving, I am leaving" but the forward still remains...

Lie-la-lie (etc...)

Awwww...wasn't that touching? (sniff) And now, giving equal time to a less-pessimistic viewpoint...put your hands together for Sir Mix-a-Lot!!!

                         

(Though I can't vouch for the family-friendly nature of the original ditty, let alone its accompanying video, you can find both on YouTube here.  It really might help.)

Oh...my...God Becky, look at that guy.  He is SO big!  He looks like one of those NBA guy players.  Who understands those GM's?  They only drafted him because he looks like a total shooter, OK?  I mean, his shot, it's just SO long!  I can't believe it's just so far.  It's like...out there!  Wow. Look!  He's just so...on!

I like long shots and I cannot lie
You other brothers can't deny
When a guy rises up with a long shot in your face
And puts you in your place
You get SPRUNG
Wanna "D-up"?  Tough!
`Cuz you tried and you just got stuffed.

Shook you outta that jock you're wearin'
Just replayed and you all are starin'
Oh BAY-bee he's just playin' with ya
He'll sign your picture
Your homeboys tried to warn you
The dancers all say, "Me so horny!"
Oooh Mr. Big Shot you say you wanna get in his biz?
He used you, used you...he drove past and just abused you

I see him jumpin'...flyin' and dunkin'
No sweat...set...got it goin' like a turbo `Vette

I'm tired of magazines sayin', "Homeboy just can't play"
Cuz the average shot is right on line...right through the twine

So fellas (YEAH?) fellas (YEAH?) has the point guard got those moves? (HELL NO!)
Then shake him (SHAKE HIM) shake him (SHAKE HIM) shoot that pretty shot.
Baby got game!
(Martell hits, just kicked your booty)
Baby got game!
(Martell hits, just kicked your booty)

He shoots `em straight, and big and when he's playin' a gig
He just can't help himself, He's playin' like an animal
Now watch that handle

He wants ta get you lost and (UH!) triple up (UH! UH!)
We ain't talking' `bout draft picks
Cuz you already got a youngster in the MIX

He shoots them real sweet and truly, so hit that sweet, sweet double
Now your team's in trouble, gettin' knocked off of that bubble

Now you're seeing highlight videos, he jumps and his sneaker's right at your nose
You're in the poster though.  Made your coach say, "Oh no!"

A word to the tough guy misters...he wants to play with ya
He won't cuss or hit ya.  But he got to be straight when he says he'll (swish!)
`til the break of dawn Martell got it goin' on
A lot of guys won't like this song
Cuz them punks like to brick and quit it
And he'd rather stay and play
Cuz he's long and he's strong and he's `bout to get his scoring on

Hey ladies (YEAH?) ladies (YEAH?) he moves smooth like a Mercedes
Grab the ball...take it out...even Jazz fans have to shout
Baby got game!
Baby got game!

Yeah baby...when it comes to ballin' LeBron ain't got nothin' on Martell Webster
36-24-36, only in the first half

So you don't know if you should go watch the game there in the third row
Don't swear when you see my homeboy hit from there
The L.A. Lakers don't...want...none they better run home, son

You can do squats, curls, or push-ups but please don't lose that shot

Some brothers want to play pick and roll and tell you that his shot ain't gold
So they toss it, and brick it, they need to learn really quick it
Ain't too smart to talk smack, cuz he ain't down with that
Cuz' he's six feet eight and his moves are kickin'...if he's shooting it's stickin'

To the sad old men on ESPN...you ain't it my friend
Give me a sniper in a diaper...the time couldn't be no riper

Some knucklehead tried to `dis cuz he had his old draft list
Passed my boy cuz he wasn't wit' him...now he curses him when he hits `em

So baby if the ball is round and you want to watch Martell throw down
Call 1-900-Hits-a-Lot and see what that pick bought
Baby got game!
Baby got game!

Dribble down the middle cuz he got much game...
Dribble down the middle cuz he got much game...

OK...that was crazy.  But what are you going to do?  You gotta talk Martell and when you talk Martell you've got to decide whether he's a sad story of a guy who skipped to the show too soon or he's the next coming of Superman.  At this point, who knows?  Well, maybe you do.  Register your thoughts below.  His stats are here.

--Dave (blazersub@yahoo.com)