Last night's brawl with the Phoenix Suns opened my eyes to a new truth: We are now, after a long stint of wimpiness, the Houston Rawkets. No longer do we sit back in our seats and let Maurice Taylor handle the dirty work. No longer do we sport thug wannabes such as Charles Barkley and Kevin Willis. No more. We are now legitimate, fight-to-the-death, ride-together-die-together Rawkets. What changed all of this? It's simple:
Ron Artest. I call him Rawn.
Coming into the season, we knew of his size, his talent, and, well...this:
It's always a sad day for the NBA when that video is shown. What is worse is the fact that when I searched "Detroit brawl" on YouTube, the first few results came not from the Pacers-Pistons fight, but instead from the...WNBA?!?! How could this happen?
But back to the point. We didn't know how Rawn's no-nonsense attitude would be welcomed by his teammates. Would it spread to other players, or would Shane Battier curse it down in the name of Mike Krzyzewski? So far, the former has taken form. We, the Houston Rawkets, have become more physical, more bullying, and straight tougher. Rafer Alston didn't back down last night against Matt Barnes, and instead of everyone sitting and watching, they all came to his aid and shoved people around. I understand how some people would say that shoving and pushing wouldn't help anything, but now we are on the Raw Map, and everyone else is on notice. Mess with the Rawkets, and they'll mess you up.
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And Now, A Note From Brian Powell
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