Blake Griffin: If Maya Angelou Poeticized His 47-Point Explosion on MLK Day

Stan SillimanCorrespondent IIJanuary 19, 2011

LOS ANGELES, CA - JANUARY 12:  Blake Griffin #32 of the Los Angeles Clippers scores a reverse layup in front of Joel Anthony #50 of the Miami Heat during the first half at the Staples Center on January 12, 2011 in Los Angeles, California.  NOTE TO USER: User expressly acknowledges and agrees that, by downloading and or using this photograph, User is consenting to the terms and conditions of the Getty Images License Agreement.  (Photo by Harry How/Getty Images)
Harry How/Getty Images

What would MLK Day be without a Maya Angelou poem? Can you imagine? Neither can we, so we tried finding her to see if she would set Blake Griffin's 47 points of Pacer punishment to poetry. 

We couldn't locate her, so we attempted to replicate what we think she might produce.

Actually we don't even know if she's a Clippers fan. We're hoping when she sees this video she'll get on the Blakewagon.

 

Still Blake Rises

You may write him down in history

The young man with saucer eyes

You may try your best to hold him down

But still, like Zeus, he'll rise.

 

Does his zest-for-game upset you?

The excitement in his eyes?

For his legs they bounce like piston rods

Earth-bounding him...not wise.

 

The Pacers tried to curb his spirit

Try Granger on, for size

"Dunk-you-very-much" the Griff replied

Hurried, for he will rise.

 

"We'll give him room" the Pacers thought

For want not be posterized

"No problems there," the Blake declared

"Just watch my scoring rise."

 

Fade aways, fade aways

The nets, they splashed most often

It was jumper after jumper

Griffin's game they could not soften.

 

Between the legs he dazzled them

Spinning away from opposition

"Do you mind picking up your jock?

Your embarrassing your position."

 

Does my Blakiness offend you?

Cause I'm a rookie in your eyes?

Mister Tar Heel Hans-bo-rough?

Don't wail. Can't handle grown-man cries.

 

"You can't stop me with your words

You can't block my path of flight

You're Earth bound when you're playing me

Don't pout, you know I'm right"

 

Posey, Foster, old birds be you

You can't defend young Griffin

You try, we know, your minds say so

But your bodies...they all stiffen.

 

Lay-ups instead of monster dunks

Matters not for how Blake scores

He drops in nineteen out of twenty-four

Leaving Pacers with major sores.

 

Trying to hold down young Blake Griffin

Is like a burger without fries

The laws of nature, you cannot change

He'll rise, he'll rise, he'll rise!