by | Nov 21, 2008 | Detroit Free Press | 0 comments

I am concerned. I am worried. I think the Pistons have too much time on their hands. They swept Boston. They sat. They swept Milwaukee. They sit.

What to do? May I suggest . . . music. A new Pistons theme. I don’t know if Isiah can sing, or if Bill Laimbeer can dance (actually it’s a pretty safe bet that Laimbeer can’t dance), but a music video might be just the thing to pass the time. And it’s good for team spirit. For example: Ah-one, ah- two .
. .

WE ARE THE PISTONS, SHUFFLING CREW, SITTING AROUND, WITH NOTHING TO DO BULLS & KNICKS ARE TAKING THEIR TIME, SO WE CUT THIS RAP, WATCH US RHYME, WE ARE THE PISTONS, MIGHTY AND MEAN FINEST SET OF HOOPERS YOU EVER SEEN PEOPLE CALL US BAD, SURELY THEY JEST WE JUST LIKE TO STICK AN ELBOW IN YOUR CHEST My name is Zeke, I kiss on the cheek But only if it’s Magic and that’s unique I’m the captain, I’ve been good, been waiting for a ring since my childhood I shoot, I assist, wear a bandage on my wrist

Break my fingers, smash my foot, I will not miss Another game, my threshold for pain, I can say-uh Has always been high, right, Mom? Ooooh, Isiah ISIAH, ISIAH, HE’LL MAKE YOU PAY-UH VJ, VJ, TAKE IT AWAY-UH Lemme have that mike . . . Vinny is my name The Microwave is the way I play the game Hot? Can I get hot? I don’t wanna overtalk it But I grab a glass of cocoa milk, it turns into hot chocolate THANKS FOR THE RAP, VIN — WHAT A PRO, NOW LET’S HEAR FROM QUIET GUARD, JOE My name is Joe Well, I gotta go GO ON, JOE, YOU CAN GO, YOU PUT ON A SHOW . . . .SCRATCH! zzyz-zzyzpp . . . .zyzz-zzyzyzpp . . . zyzpzyzpp My name’s Mahorn (ugh) here’s my elbow (whack) People say I’m dirty but I say hell no (smack) It’s just these midgets (crunch), with all their twists (ooomph), keep running (pow) into (boom) my open FISTS Lemme have it Rick, I’m Bad Boy Bill, Can’t run, can’t jump, they hate me still They say I have no rhythm but I don’t know where they get that from to be honest I mean, because, um . . . what beat are we on? THAT’S OK, BILL, YOU KEEP TRYING WORM OVER HERE WILL KEEP ON FLYING I’m Dennis . . . over here . . . now I’m on the floor I jump the seats and clean the boards, I shoulda been named defensive player of the year, I stick to my man, I’m in his ear, I can tell you what Jordan had for breakfast I can tell you if McHale needs to see the dentist So what do they want? My brain is reeling Guess I’ll take a charging foul–ooomph!
(I love that feeling) WE ARE PISTONS, WE DON’T FLY COACH, GOT OUR OWN PLANE, BEYOND REPROACH, WE LAND WHEN WE WANT TO, WE LEAVE WHEN WE LIKE SOMETIMES WE LET RICKEY FLY IT NO, JUST KIDDING The name is Chuck, I got lots of tricks With plenty of talent to throw into my mix, Got Zeke, Mark, Joe, Bill, Rick, what’s more got Halston, Ellis, and Christian Dior YOUR HAIR IS GREAT, COACH, VERY STYLEY And I use no grease, eat your heart out, Pat Riley CHUCK’S OUR COACH, TO HIM WE HEED, HE SAYS PLAID, WE GO WITH TWEED Sal-Sal here, just checking in On my car phone, darlin’, guess where I been? At Ogilvy and Mather, then Madison Ave A few more commercials I soon will have Playoffs are when my game goes crazy,

. . . what agency were you from now, baby? Lemme have it, Sal, it’s Bad Boy Bill again, I didn’t hit Bird, I didn’t hit Parish, then How come they keep yelling Laimbeer S—s! Who cares? Watch me break dance . . . unhhh, clunk. NICE TRY BILLY, YOU SURE LOOK SILLY LOOK LIKE THE PRETZEL GUY IN PHILLY I’m Brendan No. 1 . . . I’m Brendan No. 2, he keeps taking my luggage I do not! You do too– HEY BRENDANS, CHILL! TRY DANCING WITH BILL The name’s Aguirre, I was acquired in the middle of the season, when I was tired of playing in Texas, I’ll make it clearer Happiness is Dallas in your rearview mirror SING IT, BUDDHA . . . We’re the best! SING IT, LONG . . . Don’t mess! SING IT, ROOKIES . . . Can we take off our sweats? zzzzyzpp . . . zzzyzpp . . . zzzyzpp . . . WE ARE THE PISTONS, WE’RE JUST WAITING FOR THE NEXT TEAM WE’RE SALIVATING YOU KNOW WE’LL BEAT ‘EM, BE ON OUR WAY GOT A DATE WITH MAGIC IN SUNNY LA WE ARE THE PISTONS, WE AIN’T NO FAD OR AS MICHAEL WOULD SAY . . . WHO’S BAAAAAAD?

Well. How’s that? At least it rhymes. After all, even the Chicago Bears had a song.

And the Pistons hit harder than them.


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