Wed 19 Dec 2007
Hey there, loyal FCL readers. Jorge Garbajosa, the Toronto Raptors forward, has been in the news a lot recently, but not for the right reasons. His basketball year is pretty well over after it was determined that the horrific leg/ankle injury he suffered last year has not healed. He had season-ending surgery a few days ago…or did he?
Exhibit 1 of why Al Jefferson will never become a doctor. If he had a fork in his hands he might have poked his own eyes out.
There is more to this situation than what can be seen at first glance. Rumours, accusations, and innuendo have been flying around willy-nilly since it was revealed that Garbajosa would have to shut it down for the year. The brouhaha stems from Garbajosa’s decision to play for the Spanish national team this summer at the Euro Championships. The Raptors did not want him to play, fearing further injury to his leg. Garbajosa wanted to play, as apparently did the entire nation of Spain. The Spanish national team was able to obtain an insurance policy (with a $1 million premium!) to guarantee Garbajosa’s contract for the Raptors should he get injured again. Lo and behold, shortly before the insurance policy is set to expire, Garbajosa is diagnosed with problems with the leg. Garbajosa is apparently upset, as he doesn’t want to stop playing. The Raptors are upset because they lose a valuable player for the year. The Spanish people are upset…for reasons we cannot comprehend. Apparently, the thought is that the Raptors have forced Garbajosa to have surgery he does not need just to collect on the insurance.
He said, she said, blah blah blah. Nobody knows the truth, and yet everyone has an opinion. How can we get to the bottom of this, dear readers? By going straight to the horse’s mouth, people. Food Court Lunch has worked its journalistic magic to get into the mind of the swarthy Spaniard behind this kerfuffle, Mr. Garbajosa himself.
(Toronto, Ontario. A condominium. All the lights are out. Garbajosa stands by the window with an automatic rifle in his hand, peering between the drapes at the busy street below.)
Pictured: Jorge Garbajosa (black-powered approximately 150%)
Patience, Jorge, patience. They will come soon enough. And when they do, you will be ready. Uno bola for each of them.
(Jorge fiddles with his rifle)
It is only a matter of time before they figure out that I have not had the surgery. And when they realize that I sent Vlade Divac to the hospital in my place, they are going to be very, very angry. Furioso!
Vlade will be furioso as well, I would think. I told him that they were giving out free cigarettes at the hospital. When he wakes up with a surgically-repaired ankle and no cigarettes, he will not be a pleasant man.
Silencioso, Jorge. You cannot back down now. You know what they want to do to you. They are going to slice you up like jamon for no reason. My leg is fine, fuerte!
(Bangs rifle against injured ankle. Screams in pain.)
Silencioso, Jorge. You cannot let them know that you are here.
Why? Why must they do this to me? I do not want to have surgery. My pierna is fine. No problems. Sure, a small bit of hueso — how do you say? — bone pokes through the skin, but it does not hurt me. I can play through this, as I did this summer. I am tough. I am a Spaniard. If there is one people on earth who are known for their cojones, it is the Spaniards.
What? It takes a lot of balls to wear this outfit.
The Spanish people are right. There is no reason for me to have the surgery. I am as good as I ever was. Si, I do collapse from the pain every so often, but the Raptors used to have Vince Carter. They must be used to it.
I do not know why the Raptors are treating me this way. What do they want from me? Why would they do this to me? Why am I asking myself all these questions? I know the answers. And to find the answers, I had to go all the way to the top…COLANGELO!
It’s simple…the leg must go.
It is Colangelo who wants them to operate on my leg. He is muy loco. Just last week, he killed that homeless man. Oh, and Joey Graham, too. He cannot be trusted.
I don’t know why, but Colangelo will not leave my leg alone. Last week, he had a celebrity visit our locker room. She did nothing but sit in front of my locker and stare at my leg. I do not know her name, but she is escalofriante!
He put up a picture in the locker room for inspiracion. I think that it was a warning.
Colangelo cares only about money, not me. It is exactly as the Spanish press says. How can you not trust their judgment?
Ladies and Gentlemen, the King and Queen of Spain!
Colangelo does not want me to play. He only wants me to have surgery now so that he can collect money from the insurance company before it is too late. Cabron! Once the surgery is done, he has other plans for me…extrano plans.
So I wait. When Colangelo comes, I am ready for him with mi arma. (Pats gun) Madre de dios, I do not feel well. Too much standing. (Lays down on the ground) I need to buy more time. Divac got me a few days, but he will not fool them forever. Who can help me?
Aha! (Picks up phone)
Directory Assistance? I need the numero for Yakov Smirnoff in Branson, Missouri. I have a muy importante job for him.