Strictly for the Ballaz: By Dr. Boyce Watkins

Hey Peeps,

first, for those who want to know what I think about the Palin-Biden debates, I have few opinions (the election doesn't excite me very much, since our liberation will come through economics, not through skewed American political systems). I can only say that Sarah Palin impresses me as the least qualified human being I've ever seen run for political office. If she were a Black man with similar qualifications, she would probably be unemployed.

For those who want to keep talking about the Financial Crisis and managing money, please join our group at this link.

My students and I are blogging about money at www.DrBoyceFinance.com and YourBlackMoney.com. I had an interesting conversation the other day with my father about the financial crisis. He has a Bill Cosby mindset, and many of you know what I think about Cosby (he irritates me). However, I believe you can learn from anyone, so I have respect for my father and Cosby, and I listen to them both. When it came to the crisis (which my father was able to fortunately avoid), he had these interesting thoughts:

1) He never let anyone mess with his money....that even meant relatives and friends asking for loans. It wasn't because he didn't love them or feel the strain on his relationships. It was because he knows that when the doo-doo hits the fan, there would be no one there to save his butt.

2) He never let credit card companies pimp him for his resources - His perfect credit made him a target of every company seeking to dupe him into some kind of home equity or credit card loan. He ripped the offers up and put them in the garbage.

3) He never let anyone mess with his good credit - when you have good credit, someone is always seeking to try to use your good credit to make up for their own bad credit (i.e. co-signing for friends and relatives). His logic was that if you don't care enough to protect your own credit, you probably would not care very much about his.

While my father and I argue on a regular basis (he thinks that many of my ideas on social issues are a bunch of garbage), I find that hearing alternative viewpoints gives me balance. So, like Bill Cosby, I will always l love my father and respect him. Now, Juan Williams, another Black conservative, is nothing more than an educated version of Flavor Flav. Fox News will always be able to pay some Black man to say ridiculous things about his own people. I have no respect for Juan.

I was feeling the need to be poetic today, so I thought I would share another lyrical piece on the NCAA. This is dedicated to every brother in the NCAA who thinks or thought he was going to the NBA or NFL because some coach put false dreams in his head. You might be a great athlete, but you're never truly a balla if you fail to educate yourself. Even if you get rich, an uneducated man is a vulnerable man.

Strictly for the Ballaz

by Dr. Boyce Watkins

www.BoyceWatkins.com

The balla on campus has now just arrived.

I'll sign all your footballs for 9.95.

The cheerleaders and honeys all treat me real nice

My coach calls me “The Messiah”, just like Jesus Christ

My head may be swollen, like a big blimp.

But I deserve all these props cause I'm such a big pimp.

They even told me "don't worry bout class"

As they shake my hand softly and fill it with cash.

My hummer is blingin, with TVs in the back.

My 24s spinning, like my nickname was Shaq.

My diamonds are placed in my radio clock.

My system be boomin from way down the block.

The fellas get jealous as I roll through the spot.

Them fools always scheming to get what I got.

My girl is so tight, as she sits in my ride.

But she's not as tight as my girls on the side.

My greatness rivals the angels above

They treat me so special, this has got to be love!

About game number 5, I jump for a pass

And this 6 foot 5 brother knocks me right on my ass.

I leap from the tackle, "Man, you didn't hurt me!"

But I fall back to the ground, with a crunch in my knee.

The doctor says to me as I swell up with tears

"This might be the end of your football career”

Now that I can no longer jump for the ball.

The coach that once loved me ain't returning my calls.

I once got the line "Your tuition is paid"

I now get the line "Did you try financial aid?”

My girls on the side done got kind of rude.

They look at me funny, not stuttin me dude.

As I watch my gold hummer get towed down the street.

All I can do is stare at my feet

I then see the joke, and I was the butt.

The coach didn’t love me, man I was his slut!

While they lined my pocket with a few hundred bucks.

Their dollars were delivered by flat bed trucks.

Did you ever take a second to think?

Why the coach's wife shows up to games wearing mink?

While my mama is slaving as somebody's cook.

Thinking her baby's off hitting the books.

She goes Greyhound on game day, so her back is in pain.

The coach and his wife came by private plane.

One hit, then pow! I'm in a chair with steel wheels.

I bet the coach's son will never know how that feels.

As the athletic department decides on my fate.

They then figure out that I am only dead weight.

No paper in hand, I'm shipped back to the hood.

I can't pay for college, man I'll be home for good

I sit on the corner, as the summer heat steams.

I live in the bottle to wash away broken dreams.

Rather than getting calls from scouts, fans and coaches.

I'm in my mama’s crib, with mice, rats and roaches.

I once was defined by my strength and my speed.

But I now realize that wasn't all that I need.

What would I change if I could press rewind?

I would work a lot harder to strengthen my mind.