Inspired by Cody Carbone’s piece about the five locked-out NBA stars who would excel as NFL players, I asked myself a couple of rhetorical questions:
“Why limit our unemployed basketball stars to other jobs in the sporting world? Don’t these jobless souls have more to offer our society than their bodies?”
(Again, the questions are rhetorical. Don’t answer them)
With that in mind, I matched 40 NBA players with an alternative occupation that best suited their skills and disposition.
Let’s get our basketball players, and by extension our country, back to work again!
A bat made the very foolish decision to enter AT&T Arena this year during a basketball game between the San Antonio Spurs and Sacramento Kings.
After eluding the best efforts of various arena personnel, the bat made a second very foolish decision—flying too close to Manu Ginobili.
Ginobili steadied himself, took aim and calmly did this.
(If you’re too lazy to click on the link, Manu smacks the bat out of mid-air. It’s pretty awesome. You should probably click on that link now.)
A call to Manu, and those rabid squirrels in your crawl space don’t stand a chance.
A gangly, red-headed giant could easily send a room of children in to hysterics...or scare them to death.
And isn’t that really the point of clowns?
No profession capitalizes on the dichotomous tension between unrestrained joy and crippling fear quite like circus clown. Well done, Ringling Brothers, well done.
Robinson would break the bull’s ankle with a shimmy move, stop to celebrate and get gored while gesturing the crowd.
Bismack Biyombo speaks five languages, and he’s only 19.
The Congolese rookie considers language acquisition one of his main hobbies. With all of the pointless and destructive hobbies an 19-year-old could indulge, Bobcats fans should be happy to hear the future of the franchise enjoys curling up with Rosetta Stone during down time.
After all, maybe it was Adam Morrison’s monolingualism that made him such a piss poor professional basketball player. Michael Jordan can only hope...
At some point the uber-rich get bored and they start inventing costly and impractical modes of transportation. First the zeppelin (created by a German count) and now the super truck.
I don’t really know what a super truck is except that Joe Johnson has one, and it looks like an SUV ate a pickup.
I’m sure swarms of prom-bound teenagers would fork over their allowances to ride “up high” with the Atlanta Hawks’ All-Star. If Johnson wanted to don the cap and drive them around, this could be the start of a lucrative side business.
At this point, he has to have a pretty good idea of how the process works.
Also, props to tattoo artists for convincing all of us to call them “artists.” It’s the only job I can think of where your main clients are bikers, rebellious teens and sailors, and people will still refer to you with the same term used to describe Picasso.
Well, that and “sex worker artist.”
Hearing Andrew Bynum gush about his custom designed BMW M6 in this YouTube video, I’m starting to think he’d be happier under the hood of a car than he is under the basket.
A mix of injury and disinterest keeps the ultra-talented big man from becoming the game’s next great inside force. The skills are there, but he's never looked comfortable on a basketball court.
Not so with Bynum and cars. Mention “horsepower” and the man lights up. He’s schooled in the car-freak lingo and, according to Sports Illustrated, mechanically inclined beyond just the gearhead crapola.
Tim Duncan seems like a really smart, dedicated dude with a healthy intellectual appetite. He has an authoritative air and a nickname, "the Big Fundamental," that bespeaks his predilection for hard work.
He also seems a little out of touch.
Every college department has that one tenured professor with an undeniable genius that’s offset by his inability to put on pants.
Considering Joakim Noah’s attempt at an outfit on draft night, I’m thinking he might fall into that category. For whatever reason, I don’t really feel like I need to explain this one.
Kevin Durant seems like a genuinely nice guy.
He’s level-headed, relateable and shy enough that if you ever got him in a good conversation, you’d feel like you two had a real connection.
And then BAM, Durant turns your foolish trust into a weapon of self-destruction. Criminals of America, you’ve been warned.
Over five years Kevin Garnett went from decent dude to defensive intimidator to batshit crazy.
It happened fast and left us all wondering whatever happened to the mild-mannered KG we knew in Minnesota.
Something triggered a change in brain chemistry, and whatever it was turned Garnett into one of the most wildly unpredictable badasses in the league. Put each of America’s 10 worst suspected criminals in an interrogation room with Kevin Garnett for 10 minutes, and I think he comes out with 10 confessions.
Basketball is just a staging ground for John Wall’s greater ambitions. If you want to know what John Wall is really all about, watch his pregame routine.
The man has been attempting to teach us how to Dougie for a year now.
I think it’s time we finally gave him our due attention.
Khloe wants to go to Cabo, Kim’s thinking the French Riviera and Kourtney promised Scott a week in South Beach.
What are a couple of house husbands to do?
Lamar and Kris will need to put their best size 16-feet forward in order for this trip to even get off the ground.
Season Premier of Marrying Kardashian airs Thursday at 9 ET/6 PT only on VH1.
Jason Terry would probably make a terrible airline pilot, but I think he’d have a ton of enthusiasm for it.
Look at the little guy—running around the gym with his arms outstretched, pretending he can fly. What an infectious dreamer.
On second thought, maybe we could just sit him in the co-pilot’s chair, let him touch a couple of buttons and give him a captain’s pin.
I’ve always wanted an Italian barber. Like a cool Euro trash guy who could teach me how to dress like a man slut and help me talk to girls and lend me his hair gel and...
...this is just me, isn’t it?
He’s ambiguously ethnic with boyish looks and a trademark hair style. I smell a single. Or a flop.
In Varejao’s case, the latter might be more appropriate.
Chris Kaman looks like he stepped out of a period in human history where “hunter" was an actual profession. I defy you to find and NBA player with a more prehistoric facial structure.
Kaman also apparently loves to hunt, so he’s probably good at it. I would hate to be the poor woodland creature in his way.
Uncle Mike did some serious harmonizing with the Beach Boys. If perfect pitch runs in the family, I’m putting the Grammys on notice.
No one works the refs like Kobe. Every game is like a 48-minute oral argument to this modern day master of rhetoric. Kobe could convince a judge to give Perry Mason a blocking foul.
Plus, he knows the value of good representation.
For some reason, I’m seeing him more as a defense attorney.
Blake Griffin looks and acts like the coolest kid at the neighborhood pool.
He’s athletic, quietly confident and funny in a detached sort of way.
I’m also pretty confident in his ability to save a drowning child since he can jump over cars and whatnot.
Obviously this is a total cheap shot.
Real talk, do not accept SAT prep advice from Derrick Rose.
After he’s done dominating NBA power forwards Gasol has stated he wants to study medicine. In fact, he might be the only person on this list actually capable of performing the job I assigned.
Pau also reads historical novels, plays piano and maintains a friendship with renowned Spanish tenor Placido Domingo.
Pau Gasol might be the most interesting man the world. Now I want to substitute beer spokesman for doctor.
Either way, Pau serves the greater good.
Dirk Nowitzki apparently plays saxophone. Whether he plays jazz sax or not, I have no idea. Whether there's a difference between jazz sax and other types of sax, I also have no idea.
Either way the image of Nowitzki jamming at an underground club in Berlin has burrowed deep into the happy part of my brain.
The interplay between being really awesome at something and somehow totally out of place defines Dirk Nowitzki’s basketball career (Seven foot white guy dominates game by...shooting?).
In the sense that it makes no sense at all, Nowitzki hammering home a solo in a dank jazz lounge alongside a drummer named “Slick” feels...possible.
Considering his love affair with New York City, I thought it appropriate to match Amar’e Stoudemire with the most stereotypically New York job in the world.
Nothing screams Gotham like a speeding yellow death carriage. Put Amar’e behind the wheel and tell pedestrians to get the eff out the way.
Ah, the meter maid, so covertly effective.
Never seen, never heard, but always somehow able to ascertain exactly when your two hours is up. Rail against governmental inefficiency all you want, but no part of our legal code functions better than the “parking violations” section. The team of ninja enforcers responsible for upholding this sacred doctrine deserve a lot of the credit.
It’s as if they have eyes in the back of their heads.
Elaborate Steve Nash analogy, complete.
Club promoting, from what little I know if it, is all about who you know.
Among NBA players, no one is better connected to the international music scene than Andrei Kirilenko, whose wife is a Russian pop star.
I’m sure you know her single, “Sugary.”
No? You haven’t heard it?
Well, lots of Russians have, and that’s worth something in the music world.
It’s also worth noting that Andrei Kirilenko and his Russian pop star wife have an arrangement by which he’s allowed to have sex with other women. In the world of club promotion I’m pretty sure infidelity accounts for, like, 40 percent of the job duties.
I want the person who cleans and prepares the animals I eat to be ugly.
Zaza Pachulia is ugly.
I want the person who cleans and prepares the animals I eat to have a frightening, yet productive bloodlust.
Zaza Pachulia has such a bloodlust.
I want the person who cleans and prepares the animal I eat to have an accent.
Zaza Pachulia has an accent.
The dude has plenty of dough. Hi-yo!
I’m not sure what qualifies one for candlestick-making.
But because I can’t just have two unemployed basketball players in my proverbial tub, someone has to get their wax on.
Kevin Martin gets the nod because he reminds me of the candlestick from Beauty and the Beast. It takes one to know one, right?
Brian Cardinal’s nickname is “the custodian.” This slide was finished before it was started.
No one dreams of being a garbage man, just like no one dreams of being the NBA’s perennial league leader in hard fouls.
No one dreams of being a garbage man, just like no one dreams of being a world class rebounder on some of the worst teams in professional sports.
No dreams of being a garbage man just like no one dreams of being Reggie Evans.
These things just happen. And when they do, the garbage man thanks the fates for his stable salary and sweet pension plan.
Reggie Evans isn’t complaining either. An NBA contract still has a lot of zeroes on it.
B/R NBA expert Jesse Dorsey provided the lead on this one in his stellar review of the top 50 NBA Free Agents. More than just chopping down trees, lumberjacking is a look, a feel, a way of life.
Marc Gasol feels like a lumberjack.
Combine his brute strength with his beard strength, and that big stick doesn’t stand a chance.
In a profession that requires total departure from standard syntax, Delonte West is already one step ahead of the game.
West’s sentences, if they could even be called that, might be rightly described as word vomit.
A real-life example of a West sentence:
“I like to paint murals of the ocean that I see beyond the horizon, because I feel if—in order for us to grow, we gotta know. In order to love the brother man, you gotta know the other man. One fish, two fish. Red fish, blue fish."
As an answer to an interview question that response is barely English. As a spoken word poem that’s what we call “groovy flow.”
Let’s hear some snaps for my man Delonte.
Dr. Livingston, I presume?
Since every single medical profession he’s every met has failed him, Shaun Livingston needs to take matters into his own hands. Give the man a scalpel, and let him get to work.
An ongoing relationship with tennis star Maria Sharapova might complicate things, but there’s no denying that ABC loves casting guys who look like Sasha Vujacic in "The Bachelorette."
Why just last season one of the contestants looked like this, another like this and a third like this.
Did you click on those links? The resemblances are uncanny!
Why do I know all this about "The Bachelorette?" Because I’m a caring boyfriend.
I’m gonna riff off a few cultural stereotypes here and assume that guys with French accents make for real classy hotel concierges.
Besides, Tony Parker is a dead ringer for Michel, the snooty hotel concierge from the "Gilmore Girls." I mean seriously, who isn’t reminded of Michel’s holier-than-thou attitude when watching Parker drive the lane? I know I am.
Why do I know all this about "Gilmore Girls?" Because I’m a caring older brother.
Brandon Knight’s a shoe-in for this year’s “NBA player who most resembles a high school sophomore” award.
Yes, Brandon, I do want fries with that.
Wholesome, handsome and entirely too enthusiastic, Dwight Howard could easily be the guy bringing you those jalapeno poppers right now.
Except that he isn’t.
Looks like you’re still being waited on by Jared, the pimply undergrad. It’s nice to have a dream though.
Chris Paul is so in control.
He waves his wand and, as if by magic, the lumbering frames around him suddenly spring to life. With a deft touch and a preternatural understanding of the game’s rhythm he miraculously turns Emeka Okafor, Marco Belinelli and Trevor Ariza into offensive threats.
There is something unquantifiable about Paul’s game. He is the basketball maestro, a floor leader of uncommon proportions.
Now if he could somehow translate that into a nuanced understanding of music theory...
What can I say? I like my train conductors to have big, bushy beards.
Admit it, James Harden would look great in overalls.