In defense of No. 8

By The Count
Can you count to three?

AH AH AH, welcome sports fans! As I'm sure many of you know, I'm an arithmomaniac. That means whenever I see numbers, I can't help counting, AH AH AH! A few days ago, I was looking through the NBA news over at ESPN.com and I saw a story about Kobe Bryant looking to change his uniform number as early as next season.

Of course, this sent me into a counting rage. I counted my teacups, I counted my gothy candles, I counted the hairs in my widow's peak, I counted my ex wives and when I was finally done with all that, I settled down and pondered why a man would change the most important number in his life. Well, the most important number besides three (the number of NBA rings he has), 4,000,000, (the number of dollars he spent on his wife's "sorry" ring) and four-to-life.

Eight is a wonderful number! AH, AH, AH! It's the number of bits in a byte, it's a power of two, it's the atomic number of oxygen (that's pretty important, AH, AH!) and it's the number of legs on a spider.

It's also a very attractive number aesthetically: Its winding nature suggests the infinite talent and wisdom of the man who has grown to embody it. And if Kobe leaves eight behind, the only eight we'll have left in the NBA is that assclown Antoine Walker. And while I thought that old Adidas commercial with him as "Employee No. 8" ("I make baskets," what a great line, AH, AH, AH!) was good, let's face it: He's not half the octal embassador Kobe is.

Though I do appreciate that the new number he's considering taking -- 24 -- is still divisible by eight, I believe Kobe would be making a big mistake in switching numbers. Not to mention I'd have to go buy a new jersey to stay current. I guess it'd be worth it if my Lakers crush the shit out of those smarmy Suns, though. What I wouldn't give to throw on my purple and gold and shake my blood-sucking fanny in front of Grover. Bitch won't shut up about how they're this "team of destiny" and how great they are even without their starting power forward and how Steve Nash is like Cousy squared (No. 14 squared is 196 ... dammit, there I go again). I'll show that blue bastard what's up at the Finals when I moon him from my seat in the Staples Center. AH, AH AH!