LeBran James

So, the hype of LeBron James coming to New York City is here. I mean, you can ask anyone that's been buying Eddy Curry, Steve Francis and Starbury jersey's the last 10 years... no, I mean, the actual "STARBURY" jersey's that the one super cheap sweatshop store in the mall was selling for $8 each with the matching shorts that said "ALL-STAR HOOPS" on them?

But I figure that one of the bargaining chips that the Knicks can offer LeBron is having a sandwich named after him. I mean, most NY celebrities get something done at the Carnegie Deli or maybe a dessert cake at Crumb's? Something wholesome, but stupidly expensive? Like a 10-dollar bran muffin? Or maybe a..."LeBran" muffin? And of course, there's different ways of ordering it. Like if you wanted it packed with butter, M&M's and lard, you can ask for the "Mike Sweetney" hookup. But of course, if you want it overcooked and to burn the hell out of it and say "Make it a Ewing," then it's gonna be hard as a "brick" (this joke does not apply unless you know the difference between bad baking and bad basketball in 1995). Finally, you gotta know that with this muffin is going to come with a bad cup of coffee, which is "The Sprewell" because it'll just choke you out and take your hard earned money (womp womp).

But in the end, everyone knows that Lebron has to deliver a championship or fans are going to get really, REALLY crazy. Like you know that whenever something huge happens in New York with sports, the over-the-top male fanatics do rediculous things like paint their cars with novelty license plates, or get tattoos of the date and year of a team, or the worst, they start naming their children after the sports icons. I mean, if you found yourself in 2020, wearing a sweatstained Starbury jersey, eating a nasty bran muffin, crying in front of your son, LeBron... I'm pretty sure you'd just start watching the Rangers.