Since the sports world has hit a collective lull as most sane people anxiously await March Madness, and since we haven't done one of these since August, we felt it was an appropriate time to pick up where we left off with the caricature t-shirts. And since we don't really want to hear about Clemens' wife's fake cans unless you plan on showing them to us...
Ok, first of all, what is Spud the king of here, the Lollipop Kids? After looking at Spud for no more than two seconds, any fool can tell this one never had a chance. The look on his face must have been the same look on the artist's face when they were given this assignment. "Spud what? Who? Do you really... ah, fuck it, I'll do it, just give me his basketball card and I'll draw some bullshit for ya."
According to the artist, the slam dunk 'crown' is apparently the equivalent of wearing a dunce cap and standing in the corner of a room while people throw shit at you, because Spud looks like he's so ashamed to don the crown that he's been eating paste for three days. Seriously, Ralph Wiggum lived in a more convincing, focused haze then we're getting here. Did someone shoot him in the ass with Valium? It's like he's dreaming of retiring in a gingerbread house or just dreaming of John Koncak money.
We consider ourselves pretty knowledgeable when it comes to sports, but for the life of us we can't recall when Spud's legs were hairier than Dante Calabria's. Is he wolfing up? Is this what happens when you play for the Hawks, your body just rebels against you and swallows you up in hair?
Speaking of which, that hair is dangerously headed for his face, we give him two weeks before he pops up on the Maurey Povich Show as the third and long lost Wolf Brother (they are trapeze artists, after all).
Amazingly, this technically can't be considered a caricature shirt since everything in this picture is drawn exactly to size, with the ball being twice the size of Spud's torso as the dead giveaway.
Fun fact: Those red things on his dunce crown are actually Farley's Fruit Snacks.
Dr. J's "Last House Call," wow, couldn't have said it better ourselves. If we had to guess here without seeing that catchy phrase, we'd bet the lot that it's the absolute end here for Doc. Did someone just wake him up? That's usually how people look when they're watching a Sixers game. Why is he a puppet? Are those strings supposed to signify him departing Philly?
The look on his face describes everything you need to know about the 76ers organization under the bloated leadership of Harold Katz. It's almost as if Doc has no idea where he is anymore and doesn't really care where he's going, as long as he's leaving.
The fact that he's about to lay a signature Dr. J finger roll of the Sixers logo into nothing kind of ties the whole thing together, we're surprised it's not raining too. There's only so many 6'11" white centers one guy can play with and for Doc, it's evident the 1986 trio of Tim McCormick, Mark McNamara and Jeff Ruland finally put the fork in the old man.
We assume the exaggerated grayness here is from excessive washing but a nice touch nonetheless. If memory serves us right, we're pretty sure Doc had a full head of black hair on opening night until they announced the starting line-up, when gray patches suddenly appeared all over his head. Pretty sure it happened to many in attendance as well.
While the artist did a nice job bringing touches of realism to the picture, he did forget to add the Bill Cosby-esque sweater that the Doc wore underneath his jersey and the pipe he smoked during games in his farewell season.
Fun Fact: The ball in Dr. J's hand is actually a sedative that he took to sleep through his last three seasons in Philly.
Holy crap, say hi to Mr. Peepers. Now we finally know the true inspiration behind Chris Kattan's classic SNL character. Come to think of it, Stockton's off the field life would have been a hell of a lot more interesting if he acted like Mr. Peepers. Shoving a bunch of food into his mouth and spitting it all over the scorers table would have been a nice start, kind of the bizarro version of what is now the sadly overplayed "powder clap."
Did he trade ears with Mitch Albom moments before the drawing was done? Oh man, he would need to wear basketball earmuffs to cover those monstrosity's.
High praise to the artist on the hair here, if there wasn't a creepy cartoon directly underneath it, we could easily be fooled into thinking it's real hair. We might even give that hair to Marv Albert to keep on deck as a back-up toupee in case his current weave leaps onto Fratello's head again.
A little confused however on the freshly waxed eyebrows look as well as the obvious full body wax he underwent before the shoot -- wasn't it just Tom Chambers who was into this crap back then?
What's with the smiling trance he's in? He can't be looking at an open Mailman in the paint, that shit became old hat. It's gotta be "Naked Mark Eaton" night!
Fun fact: The shorts in this picture are actually the same length as the ones Stockton wore during games.