In a time when athletes are more concerned with their global brand and market appeal than their craft…

In a time when athletes are just athletes…skill be damned…

In a time where “princess boyishness” is rewarded…

In a time where two grown men over 6’3” can walk down the tunnel of a basketball arena holding hands as a way to come out of the closet…I mean come off the court.

I salute Brandon Roy.  He wanted to play…wanted to compete…and when he couldn’t…he cried.  He cried in front of millions.  He shed a tear in a packed arena…because all he wanted to do was ball.  Now I’m probably going to roast him for it later.  I’m going to say to one of my Homies…”stop Roy’ing” (now short for crying, bitching, moaning, shedding a tear, etc.).

But in all seriousness, I applaud the love and passion…and why shouldn’t he cry if a dude named “Rudy” and another dude named “Patty” gets into the game in front of him?…former Rookie of the Year, All-Rookie Team (1^st team) member, 3-time All-Star,  and 2-time All-NBA Team (2^nd & 3^rd team) member.

He humbled himself…apologizing for his tomfoolery…his “Amaechi-hood”…and then proceeded to go out and roast the Dallas Mavericks, scoring 18 points in a quarter…THE 4^th QUARTER…OF A PLAYOFF GAME…with no knees…WITH NO KNEES!  And to all the detractors and those showering Brandon Roy with pity for his injuries, or hating on him for his actions…he looked y’all dead in the eye and said:

“Y’ALL MUSTA FORGOT!!!”

B. Austin of The War Room, for War Room Sports