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I had two friends in college who, during overlapping eras, were generally considered the flyest sisters on campus. They both pretended to not know this while wielding their power.

One sister had them flocking from the summer before her orientation. Facebook was still a novelty then but fellas knew enough to use it like Mel Kiper’s Big Board. Her everyday photos were the talk of the town, upperclassmen and incoming students alike undoubtedly anticipated their chance.

I was in a relationship at the time and viewed the sister as just that. I had no intentions toward her, having known her from the independent school circles back home (where one of my homeboys ADORED her), it was just cool that she was coming to Davidson. As wholesome as I was, even I subconsciously engaged in the free agent pursuit.*

Now, I told you that I knew everybody was going after her but it wasn’t until one particular evening that I realized how absurd it really was. I went down to her dorm room to see how she was doing and literally saw a line of brothers waiting to chop it up. Her fineness transformed a dorm room into the DMV.

She was braiding one guy’s hair (the frontrunner at the time), getting help with class from another, talking about music with a third, and getting invited to a step show by a fourth! Having known her the longest (and still having no untoward feelings, consciously at least) I stepped past the crowd and exchanged pleasantries. The intrigue had its ebb and flow; (it’s not like she got less fine) but no one really succeeded (I define success in this situation as being a publicly acknowledged situation). Many found solace in saying “whatever” but still found time to ridicule her ex-boyfriend—another student—for letting her get away.

This episode taught me a valuable lesson that I want to share with you in light of the Carmelo Anthony situation. Teams, like thirsty upperclassmen, often fail to realize when they are being used. They might have valuable assets but it’s all about timing.

Let’s take the Nets for example. Do they have a bright future? Absolutely. Young players, cap flexibility, draft picks (and the win drought that guarantees the quality of those picks) and the eventual move to the county of Kings. And it is those things, save Brooklyn, that they are offering for Melo’s services. If he did wind up in Newark, is Carmelo really getting anything better than what he had in Denver?** No.

For longtime Art Stars, y’all know I’m a Knicks fan til eternity. Bias aside, Melo makes sense for the Knicks. It took me a while—had to let the burns heal—but I’ve talked myself into the proposed trade of Felton, Gallo, Eddy Curry’s snacks, and Chandler for Melo, Billups, and etc. I really believe this trade lets us walk away with a better team for the playoffs and Billups will be washed up right in time for us to chase Deron Williams. (I want no parts of Chris Paul’s knees. Him and Amar’e will look like a couple of Golden Girls by the time that arthritis sets in.)

It’s not even like Melo on the Nets makes them a threat. They’re being used. (In this analogy Denver is the girl and Melo is said girl’s fineness.) The Nets are driving up the price to the point where the Knicks (if Jim Dolan can find somewhere to sit down and shut the hell up) might have to say, “You alright but…nah I’m good.”

Without the Nets being so thirsty, the Knicks could just wait til free agency and give Melo a max offer under the new Collective Bargaining Agreement. But just like all the brothers in the dorm room, the Knicks are gonna have to do a little bit more to stand out.

Which sucks.***

But I understand where the Nets are coming from. Melo is a great player and if you can make the move for him, you’ve got to, right? I’m reminded of the many times I’ve chased a girl that a friend of mine also fancied. The second girl, aforementioned in the first paragraph, created a rivalry between one of my homeboys and I. I didn’t stand a chance but kept on trying, unfortunately driving up the price for him. He ended up with her and now they are far from friends. I kept it moving with my proverbial draft picks (read: my dignity and sanity) and will be married in June.

Peace.

*At least that’s how the lady I was with saw it. Perhaps this was because I—once again, subconsciously—walked my own girlfriend off the sidewalk to talk to her or would end arguments by saying, “Screw this, I’m gonna go see how (aforementioned sister) is doin!”

**Aside from helping to create a murderer's row of player's wives/girlfriends (Kim Kardashian, LaLa, and occassional visits from Beyonce is a legendary lineup)

***This is not like LeBron being a free agent and every team having a right to throw their hat in. Melo ain’t even that good. And the Nets are the only ones messing this up for my squad!****

****If the Nets really do mess this up for the Knicks by either obtaining him or making us trade everybody but Amar’e and Spike, I hereby renounce New Jersey. It’s that real.

Everything we dream of.

If you're new to Art Star, a Cavs fan, or find my beloved Knicks laughable, you may wonder why I am talking about Bron Bron in MSG a day before he begins feasting on the Orlando Magic.

Tonight is the night we learn where the Knicks pick (and I guess the other cellar dwellers are there too).

From all accounts this is a weaker draft than the last two (though, one can never be TOO sure on someone's potential...peace to Darko and Kwame Brown) but I'm still excited.

And guess what? I don't even want the number one pick.

That's right my fellow lotterarians, you can have Blake Griffin.

For that matter, keep Rubio, Thabeet, Jennings, and whoever else keeps Chad Ford awake at night.

All I'm saying is when I turn on MSG next season, all I'm trying to see is more of this:



Please believe this is the future. Anything else is unacceptable.

From Exit 30 to 34th St.

Stay thirsty my friends.

Dear God,

First and foremost happy Juneteenth!...if you don't know what I'm talking about please go read a book immediately.