Billy "Rasheed" Eccles' team made it to the finals this year, after Rasheed had an O-for (as in 0-14)  in last year's tourney. Rasheed promised Commissioner Roberge that he would bring some late arriving shirts to the Blacktop as soon as he possibly could. As you all remember, last year, Rasheed brought some very nice BOB Tourney shirts, of different colors for different teams, for all participants. Robes decided that this year he'd have Billy bring the shirts and Spec would, as Commissioner, charge $7 apiece for them. Thus, Rasheed got put on a near-championship team for his efforts although, thus far, Billy hasn't produced the shirts for Robes' coffers. We all know, from what his colleagues, like Ray, have said that Robes isn't making any money at Cisco. He just took a demotion and was sent back to Rhode Island & the Providence Plantations. Nobody in Rhode Island even owns a computer. While we all look at BOB as a competitive event, Spec looks at it as an entrepreneur. Don't buy the BOB shirt from The Commissioner when Rasheed gets them to him. Let Cisco pay his salary, not BOB competitors. As Rasheed was playing in the finals, Hamhocks started saying that Billy had agreed to have his chin hair trimmed by the Championship team if his (Rasheed's) team lost. Of course, as usual, this was totally made up by Hammy. Nonetheless, at post-game festivities, Rasheed let Kurtis, NC and The MVP each take the scissors to his face. Thank God The Assassin didn't get that opportunity. Speaking of Billy Eccles, can somebody tell me, is there really a Hanna? Has anybody actually seen this alleged person? I personally don't believe that she really exists and I've assigned Jose "MVP" Gonsalves to investigate her existence. Billy & Hanna could have grandchildren, with The MVP on the case, before we get the information regarding Hanna's actual existence, if she does exist at all. While on the subject of Jose The MVP, all Blacktoppers should know that I believe that I observed the old timer taking amphetamines in the pool house before the tourney. As you know, I would never make up something like this. How else could a 71-year old play the way Jose did? Of course, at the post-game, The MVP regaled us with the fact that he had played on Championship teams in State Police tournaments and at the NB Boys Club, as though the MVP of the BOB wasn't that big of a deal. I believe that he said that he had even been an MVP at other tourneys. First of all, nobody cares about some cop league and absolutely nobody cares about, or would count, an over age 65 league like the Boys Club. The BOB is not limited to only law enforcement (much greater talent pool) and there are no geriatric patients at BOB (except for Jose and Rick). I hope the MVP can appreciate his accomplishment at BOB for what it is. And one more question for the MVP. How old was Kathy when you married her? "I'm not a numbers guy" (Stig) but, by my calculations, she could have only been about 2-years old when you hooked up with her. Let's see, you're 72, she appears to be about 37, carry the four, divide by 3 (Stigmata, help me here), at any rate, didn't they have statutory rape laws when you were in your 30's Mr. MVP? Now, on to Hamhocks. Here's a man whose knees have more scars than Michael Jackson's nose. Yet, my unofficial statistics for the BOB compute to the fact that Hammy ripped down a total of 133 rebounds and set a Guinness Book of World Records total of 161 picks (or screens, if you like) over the course of  the 11 games that he played. That averages out to (where's Stigmata when you need him?) like 12 bounds and 15 and 1/2 picks a game. Not only that but Hamhocks, knowing that his team needed more offense with the likes of The King & Stigmata on his team, drove to the basket and flipped up left and right-handed finger rolls that George "The Iceman" Gervin would have been proud of. Nobody has seen Hamhocks play offense like that, or of any kind of offense for that matter, since the 1977 basketball campaign. This man wanted a Championship but Commisioner Roberge saddled him with teammates that dragged him down into also-ran status. I would also like to mention that Hamhocks was observed mainlining "juice" into his arms in the pool house before BOB. How else could you get arms the size of this guy? I am making a personal appeal to Commissioner Roberge to institute a drug screening program before next year's tournament. Between Jose The MVP and Hamhocks enhancing their performances with foreign substances, something must be done to insure a fair competition and the health of all Blacktoppers. Now, The King. What can be said? The King is the King is the King. Unfortunately, as well as Cliff played at BOB, it was all upstaged by two other aspects of his "game". First of all, The King continued on his torrid pace of committing an offensive foul on every other touch of the ball. I can verify, as well as Stigmata (there's an article on the robeshasnogame website regarding the Stig encounter), that The King will knock you down and stomp on you, regardless of how long your feet have been planted in a defensive position, in order to score a basket. At BOB, The King busted up NC deSilva on numerous occasions. The kid kept getting run over, after having his position established, jumping up, and then getting drilled and knocked over again by The King. While videotaping the massacre, I thought I had the video camera on replay, since it kept happening so often. And how about The King's choice of words and kicking game at BOB? That new punter for the Pats (Josh Miller?) better keep his average up near 50 yards a punt, because The King is standing by in the wings. Jose, remember the old days (when you were in your 40's) when you'd never kick or sit on a ball for fear of egging it? Those old Spauldings would get so bare, with no thread left, that if you kicked it or spiked it, you'd most likely ruin the ball. Nowadays, with the nice deSilva court (Jose played on gravel) and the state-of-the-art outdoor balls that Hamhocks supplies, The King is booting the ball all over the place, Kurtis and Mark are spiking it fifty feet into the air, it's anarchy. Oh, and by the way King, I heard Nate Gagnier's little boy tell him to "F--- off" while I was poolside after the tourney. Nate said that he couldn't imagine where his son had ever heard those words before. I mentioned to Nate that he might want to listen carefully to the videotape of the BOB, especially when you missed a shot.