Don’t ever call a foul ever in your whole life. ♦♦♦ Here’s What to Say When Someone Fouls You So: Here’s a guide to phrases to say during pickup basketball, along with the NBA spirit players. That’s a little thing called game planning. That’s how Bruce Bowen was able to stay in the league for so long.

You’re gonna get roasted in that situation all day, right? Your only hope is to start calling him a “bitch” over and over again, and hope that he ends up playing four inches shorter than usual. Think about it like this: Let’s say you’re 5-foot-7 and kind of slow, and you’re stuck guarding someone 6-foot-1 and kind of fast. Is Rick a murderer?” Boom, all of a sudden the guy you’re guarding isn’t so quick to put his shot up, because he’s afraid you might tear his throat out.ģ. “I’m not that good at basketball”: That’s the best reason to trash-talk. If you’re quiet all the time, but then you get out on the basketball court and you start yelling at a guy that you’re gonna murder him, people are gonna be like, “Holy shit. That’s it.Ģ. “I’m a naturally quiet person”: That’s the second-best reason to trash-talk. Watt, the guy in Machete, Ronda Rousey, and the girls from Love & Hip-Hop: Atlanta. There are probably, like, 12 people on the whole planet who enjoy confrontation: DMX, Metta World Peace, J.J. The three most common responses:ġ. “I’m not a confrontational person”: Duh. That’s a thing I cannot abide, let alone understand. I asked a bunch of people who said they didn’t talk trash why they didn’t. Which is why I was so surprised recently to learn that some people, god bless them, do not do this. I can say, with certainty, that I’ve cursed at at least one person in every competitive game of basketball that I have played since I was 13. I couldn’t begin to guess what my career pickup basketball stats are, but I’d feel safe in assuming that I’ve remained somewhere near the league leaders in cussing at strangers. You just need to know that it started out politely enough and ended with me very loudly calling all of them bitches. Now, you don’t need to know all the things that happened for the 45 minutes I played 21 with these guys. Of the group playing, there was one guy who was clearly the leader (he was easy to identify because he was the one dunking the ball before the game started), a second-in-command (smaller, but compact, muscular, and quick in a way that made him more intimidating than the guy dunking), two guys who jostled for the Third Best Player title, and a big oaf who was there just because, were I to guess, someone told him he’d probably be good at basketball since he was such a big oaf.

They were also all pretty good at basketball, which made me not like them even more. I said yes. All of them were younger and taller and more handsome than me, so I already didn’t like them. There were five guys in the gym - friends, it seemed - and they were all on the same side of the court about to start a game of 21. When I walked in, they asked if I wanted to join the game. Rather than go home, we decided to mill around for a bit and wait for the pool to open, which was just an excuse for walking back and forth in front of the doors that led to the basketball gym until she said I could go in there and play. We’d gone there to go swimming, but had managed to show up during a 45-minute block of time that the pool was closed. A couple of weeks ago, my wife and the baby and I were at the YMCA near our home in Houston.

Trash talker basketball