Confessions of a Recovering Goon

I confess to almighty God and to you, my brothers ans sisters, that I have gooned through my own faults, in my thoughts and in my words, in whom I have gooned and those I have failed to goon. I am a recovering goon. My gooning days have past, as I haven't played in an organized basketball game in over three years. I feel I could control my goon instinct now. There was a time when I saw a skinny athletic teenager, dribbling between his legs, hanging his tongue out like Michael Jordan, and all I saw was my elbow tearing through his rib cage. Why do I say these things? Because of the actions of John Chaney.

People feel that goons have no place in basketball. This is not true. They set the tone of the game, if a coach get them in soon enough. A hard foul on a shot in the lane can make a player, or even a team, think twice about go inside again. And, because of past goonings by myself I undersatnd and respect the fouls made by Nehemiah Ingram. What I have a problem with was Mr. Chaney's rationale for unleashing Mr. Ingram's wrath, MOVING SCREENS. Now, John Bryant's season, and most likely career, is over. If I were Mr. Bryant and someone were to end my career over moving screens my response would be similar to Animal Mother in Full Metal Jacket. In which Animal Mother says, in response to the belief that the Vietnam Conflict is about freedom:

"Flush out your head gear, new guy. You think
we waste gooks for freedom? This is a
slaughter. If I'm gonna get my balls blown off
for a word ... my word is 'poontang.'"

Mr. Bryant should look the media right in the eye and say:

"Flush out your head, Tommy Sutter. You think

I broke my arm for setting a moving screen. If I

broke my arm for a reason, my reason is 'poontang'"

I bet Rick Mahorn would've said it. Moving screens, what a beach-azz thing to end a career over.