Life at the Wilson Street Pad

The year of the Mexico trip I had five roommates living in Ike Lambert's and my old apartment on Wilson Street. Ike was going to school at Loras College after transferring and moving out and lived only a few blocks away. So now living in the house was Morris "Dragon breath" Vankinscoff, White B aka Sneaky Sig, Big B Growley, and after Mick Glajoe moved out D Rog moved in. The usual daily routine was to get a ride home at the end of the day after classes and after practice from Big B in his Dodge S-10. We had to ride 4 deep with someone sitting on someone else's lap. As we turned the corner from University Ave by the little pub on the corner we would think of home and proceed to call out: "First Sega!", "Second Sega!" Everyday we did this. What we were referring to was playing video games and calling out who would get to play first. There was only one video game we played actually, and it was non other than "John Madden Football" on the Sega Genesis (which was the number one video game from my generation in hip-hop culture). Homework was an afterthought. While the first game was played the roommates who didn't get in the first game usually cooked up some grub, either hamburger paddies or polish sausages from Aldi's Save a Lot grocery store. They did this while watching the game and listening to the smack talk. During the evening time we also talked about the interesting things that occurred at practice or at school that day. More times than not I cracked open a 40 oz. or two. We always watched Sports center on ESPN at 6PM, and then we would go back to playing Sega. I've got some great stories about smack talking and epic battles and TV sets getting thrown and more when it comes to playing John Madden football at the Wilson Street Pad. We all had our favorite team and we sometimes did individual secret practice sessions trying to get down a teams offense or what ever. "The Book" as we called it was the game manual that had player profiles and things of that nature and we were always studying it and looking all over hell for it when ever it got lost. Basketball speaking Big B, Reecy, White B, and I were all JV players for the most part, so we had a pretty tight bond between us, but sometimes there was also jealousy and an intense rivalry. I played more varsity then any of them but we were all around the same caliber of player and also about the same size. White B was recovering from serious knee surgery which slowed him up during that time and with out a doubt the injury affected and limited his college basketball career. There was always some hip-hop tunes thumping and coming from the direction of white B's room. 2Pac's first and second CD and Dr. Dre's "The Chronic" were played continuously. White B had them as soon as they came out and always had other new CD's before anyone else. Hip-hop rap enthusiasts know the significance that those two musicians and their records had on hip-hop, especially Dre's "The Chronic", which brought west coast funk infused rap into the forefront of hip-hop culture. It was mesmerizing music, but it seems to have lost its mesmerizing affect over time. I sure do miss those times. And I miss all those guys. D rog was the only other one to come home with beer every night, usually a six pack, sometimes a twelver, and he always shared with me. He had about six girlfriends who bought him what ever he needed. They were all pretty cool in my opinion, and of course they were all attractive. I really really miss those days. All those guys had so much charisma and personality. Big B and I would always pull the "Iowa Hawkeye's are the best" routine. "Hot Breath" Reecy Vankinscoff and White Boy Roy were both from Illinois, so whenever the Hawkeyes took on the Illini. it was a real big occasion and we all gathered around the TV set, me with my 40 ouncers. The smack talking was at it highest during those games. There was one particular unforgettable occasion when the Hawks were up by five with like six seconds left. Big B and I were really letting White B. and Reece have it. It was high fives and dancing the cabbage patch. Then that white dude shooter who played like seven seasons for their team hit a three and then a half court three to win it, all in that six seconds. Big B and I went from dancing and talking trash to being dead silent and watching those guys high five and dance and yell and point and laugh. To tell you the truth it was a classic moment, I have to admit. There were all sorts of other goings ons concerning the ladies besides just D Rog's harem. As I have mentioned before White B had a girl friend who would bless us with her presence occasionally, and occasionally she would even bring a friend over with her. Hot breath, Big B, and myself never had any long term steadies, but we each had our fare share of action.

Duke Day
After practice one day coach gave us a speech right before sending us off the court and downstairs to shower. He said he wanted to dedicate the day to a player on the team who never made a "peep or a hum" but just showed up and worked hard and kept his mouth shut. Coach pronounced it was: "Duke Day!" My bud Johny Duke was our hero after that, so Big B and I obtained about 2 cases of Mickey's Big Mouth Malt Liquor hand grenade bottles and proceeded to celebrate like had never been done before. And I mean never. Walls were smashed in, doors were broken down, things were set on fire, books were burned, glass was broken, burning plastic singed a lifelong scar into my wrist which I did not feel at the time as I watched it happen, blood from some various self imposed injuries was smeared into words on the walls... and we kept screaming "Duke Day!" and then slammed our green hand grenade bottles of beer and then threw them against the walls of our apartment. They exploded the dry wall in our walls and left lingering clouds of white drywall dust hovering in the surrounding air until the next day. Ike Lambert and Johny Duke ran out of the apartment in terror that night not to return until the next day to check and see if anyone had survived the drunken insanity from the night before. The next morning I came down from my room in the attic which D Rog had dubbed 'the bat cave', and I had to climb over and through the door leading to and from the attic which had been demolished by Big B in retribution for me jumping through the wall that separated his and Reecy's sleeping area. There was broken glass and wood splinters everywhere on the floor and there was light shining through the window into the living room where Big B and Reecy slept and there was a thick smoky haze that could be seen in the form of light beams where the suns rays shown directly in. The CD player had been stuck on the same song all night and was skipping at the same spot. It was stuck on "Georgy Porgy" by MC Lyte (who was one of Big B's favorite rappers). What a night it had been. Those green Micky bottles were indestructable. Maybe the two streetballers from the ICE were a bit crazy in the head. Lil Lamb used to call us "devils" because of the blood on the walls from that night and because we liked to eat our steaks rare. 'The morning after' is an image I can see in my head oh so clear. For some reason I had somewhat a sense of accomplishment that morning, and I guess I still feel that way now. Perhaps because I knew that the craziness of Duke Day was so awesome that it would never be forgotten thanks in big part to the drinking ritual of the beast Big B and I.