Retirement Diary 11/15/05
A lot of people ask me if I miss playing professional basketball. The short answer is “not at all”. The longer, and more accurate answer is as follows. What many people misunderstand about the “Isaiah” Rider persona, is that it is just that: a persona; a character, if you will.
Who am I, then? Why, I am Johan Rogerious Ridaire, French philosopher and world explorer. As I sit in jail following my latest social experiment, I have come to realize that perhaps the time has come to pull back the curtain on the ruse that is my public life here in America. All that there is to discover in this guise is clear to me.
Years back, when I took on the elaborate disguise of a young, African-American basketballer, I found that many things came easy to me. Mainly, drugs, disobedience, tardiness, and jumping high. Another interesting development was the “constant trade”, the “what is wrong with that guy” treatment by fans, media, and teammates, and of course, the “way to waste your life, dumbass” commentary from friends, family, and strangers. I have no fans.
Oh, the wonders I have realized with my latest stint in confinement! With my new compatriots and cellmates Tiny and Muggs, I have finally reached the conclusion to my lengthy study. (By the way, Muggs has apparently stabbed another man, while Tiny has simply been cloning cell phones, something I dabbled in several years back. Our findings on the topic are strikingly similar.)
And so, as this grand journey comes to a close, I await my bail money to arrive, so that I may embark on the next task I have planned in my travels through the human condition. In short, where the bitches at?
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