Via The Sporting News:
“I used to drink Hennessy … at halftime,” Artest says in the interview, which hits newsstands this week. “I (kept it) in my locker. I’d just walk to the liquor store (near the stadium) and get it.”
At halftime, Ron? Here we are at home, just thinking that Ron Artest has a screw loose (actually, quite a few screws loose), but really he was just that crazy because he was hammered half the time.
When I played basketball, for the worst Division Three program in the country (not really, but close to it), we had protein packets at halftime to help us return for a strong second half. Meanwhile, Ron Artest, getting paid millions to play basketball in the world’s greatest basketball league, drank Hennessy instead.
Didn’t anyone smell it on his breath? Or see him drinking it? Wasn’t there a coach, or a teammate, who said to him, “Hey, Ron, cut the shit, we’re trying to win some f—ing games here? You can’t be getting stiff at halftime.”
It boggles my mind that Artest drank at halftime, and it further boggles my mind nobody stopped him from doing it.
That wasn’t all from the article, though. Artest further admitted his craziness:
“When I was a 19-year-old father, whew. I was a single pimp! I was wild. A lot of marijuana and alcohol—even before (that age). … I (still) party and I have fun, but not like I used to. I used to drink every night and party every night.”
That’s definitely the way to react to becoming a father: Just go out every night, become a “pimp”, drink a lot of alcohol, and smoke a lot of weed. Wow, Ron, we thought you were crazy for your role in the Palace Brawl, but it goes way beyond that. Oh, by the way, Ron doesn’t see that he could have done anything differently in the Brawl:
“It wasn’t my fault. … I don’t see anything I could have done different. The only thing I could have done was have God pause time so I could have said, ‘Oh, look, you’re about to run in some stands, so stop.’”
So he’s trying to say he got a beer thrown on him by a fan, and there was nothing he could have done differently other than going into the stands and trying to beat that fan’s ass. (And, if you didn’t remember, going after somebody else first.) Right, Ron.
And Ben Wallace, the player Ron Artest chose not to fight before fighting with half the crowd that night? Well, Artest still holds a grudge:
“I see Ben, I’m on my guard now. I’m always in the mood to fight him. … I’ll get suspended 10 games, 15 games (because) I’ll just fight him right there. It won’t go into the stands.”
Artest must have read Aggassi’s book and decided, “That’s just what I want to do. Cleanse myself of all my sins.”
Can you believe this stuff? Because I can’t. Actually, I can. It’s Ron Artest!