Introduction

Hi, my name is David Yang. I'm a 4th-year English major at UCI. I'm 21 years old, and I have spent a good chunk of it watching basketball. Some of my earliest memories constitute of seeing my dad relaxing on the living room floor, watching a Laker game. The 5-year-old David would join him, imitating his position. (He would lie down on his side, resting his head on his hand, the force of which would travel down to his elbow, which rested on the ground.) I would try to lie down this way, but I always found it quite uncomfortable, as I kept falling off to the side. (I find it very comfortable today.) I thought that if my dad did it, then I should do it, too. That's just how I thought back in those days.

I remember I didn't care that much about the game. I didn't like the Bulls. They wore red and black, and everyone looked so intense and menacing. Though, ironically, I liked Dennis Rodman (the most intense and menacing of them all sans Jordan), but only because of his colorful hair. It wasn't until '96, when I was 7-years-old, that I found a favorite player and team to root for. I was watching the game one day, when my hyung Joon asked me, "Do you know who that is?"

"Nope," I replied honestly. I actually didn't know a single name in the league.

Origin Of Chosen 2

So there's this guy named LeBron James, and a lot of basketball people proclaim him to be ' the King'. He's still in his early 20's, and people argue that he is the greatest basketball player to have ever stepped on the hardwood. His athleticism is unmatched throughout the history of the league. No one has seen such an unstoppable force. He plows through traffic and rises higher than anyone on the court, gazing down at us mere mortals. The human being that is LeBron James drives to work every day, and on his way, he sees a 10-story building with his picture on it. He is Cleveland's savior. He is the one who is to save the city from a championship drought that has lasted as long as who-knows-when (Who cares about Cleveland, really?). In the eyes of the Clevelanders (Is that what they are called?), he can do no wrong. What he wants, he gets. What he says, goes. He is the King. He is a global icon, idolized by millions upon millions. And so, one can imagine what that kind of attention can do for his ego. Feeding into it all, Mr. James goes to the tattoo parlor and gets a tattoo across his back that reads: Chosen 1.

Hello And Welcome!

Hi. My name is David (praedurum). My friend Abraham (mad36) and I decided to start a blog dedicated to mostly fantasy basketball and some random basketball news. We're pretty obsessed about it (It constitutes our life over the course of the basketball season [and even the off-season, now that I think about it]), and well- here it is.

So let me tell you how this blog came to be. During the first two weeks of the young 09-10 season, I found myself in two private fantasy leagues (one roto, and one head-to-head) with two different groups of friends. Now I'm a pretty competitive guy, and I like to win. And, naturally, being an avid basketball fan and an ever bigger fan of my fantasy basketball teams, I get pretty obsessive about the numbers that all the players in the league put up. So much so that the performance of my fantasy teams determines my mood for the day. (Admit it. It happens to you, too!) The higher I am in the standings, the happier I am. The lower I fall in the standings, the more pessimistic I become. I actually grow a personal attachment towards my players as well; if they blow up for 40 points and a triple-double, they immediately become my favorite player. If, however, they shoot 1-10 from the field the next day and commit 7 turn-overs, then I suddenly feel the impulse to assassinate them personally when they come to visit Los Angeles for a road game. So goes the life of your average fantasy basketball manager.