[pic - click to view] The Life and Times of Tito Five Vol. 4 « Passport Paper
This is a true story from Tito Five's life...enjoy!
Well, the holiday season is officially over, and Christmas Day brought us the NBA’s return… But there’s one player we’ll never see on an NBA floor again. We call this story, “fu*k Bubba Chuck.” With the new year I’ve vowed to make some improvements, but my language isn’t on the list. So I must warn you this may get a bit vulgar. This story begins in Hampton, Va. I decided to attend Hampton University, and would often hear about how “Chuck” would frequently appear on campus to show off his latest Mercedes and pick-up his hoochie of the day. As a life long Sixers fan, I was somewhat excited to know I may be able to cross paths with the then, cross-over king.
A friend of mine who lived directly across from campus told me how nobody knew him or called him A.I. as most of us had grown to know him. He told me his name was “Bubba Chuck.” This was the first I’d ever heard of the name, along with some of the terrible things he had to say about him. My friends mother represented “Chuck” in the bowling alley case that he had while in high school, in which he’d gotten into a brawl against some local white kids. During this time “Chuck” would often come over for dinner and they treated him as one of their own. After it was over, they never heard another word from him again. He didn’t even bother to send a thank you card. He explained how his mother didn’t even want his name mentioned around her, as she felt so hurt by his lack of gratitude. From there I’d crossed paths with “Chuck” a few times and I’d never been the autograph type, nor the one to hassle “celebrity figures.” So whenever I saw him I’d give a simple, “what up A,” and he’d reply, “what’s happenen cat-daddy.” For me that was enough.
As the years went by I heard similar stories concerning “Chuck.” How he was disrespectful, didn’t have any manners and how common courtesy wasn’t so common for him. One story being how he’d sit in an open box at the arena if he was injured along with family and “friends.” A bunch of kids would often come up to him and ask for an autograph, he’d sit there and ignore them and have one of his handlers tell them to get lost. We’d also hear about his epic escapades in Atlantic City, where he’d get drunk and throw his cards at the face of the dealer whenever he lost, but none of it ever really registers… well, until it happens to you of course.
Some friends and I hosted a party in Philadelphia called, “NBA Wednesdays” at the time. On this night Philly just won a game against Detroit in the Playoffs and “Chuck” decided to show up, along with his homies. His homies thought that they were A.I., they thought they were the celebrities. At that time my homie was pumping that “lemon haze!” We were up in the DJ booth chillin, and his homies came up, but for some reason they thought the lemon haze was free. They felt they were bringing business into the party and we owed them. In my mind I’m thinking they were a bunch of nobodies living off another man’s fame, but we made a deal we’d hook them up if we got a chance to holla at “Chuck” before he headed out. Since a couple of us went to Hampton and knew he had some sort of celebrity softball game out there, why not see if we could get the stamp to do the official after party.
The entire night “Chuck” was occupied. There was a single file line full of females. I hadn’t seen a line that tight since I was a first grader headed to the lunch room… and his line didn’t move once for 2 hours. He decided to talk to one chick that had to be the ugliest duckling in the building. There was a line full of dimes and he decided to talk to a stone cold 4 for 2 hours, which has to speak volumes of this guys ego! Once we got out the club his homie gives me the intro to speak with “Chuck” concerning the party. He’s leaning on his Bentley he’s got parked up on the curb, and he’s obviously inebriated. I pitch my idea, and he gives me a 2 second pause and replies, “fu*k Hampton and Everything In Hampton… Matter of Fact, fu*k You!” From there I just blacked out… I grabbed the champagne bottle from his hand and threw it at his windshield, and ask him who the fu*k does he think he’s talking to!!? From there it was an all out brawl, and I ended up suing him for a $3 million settlement… Well, that’s what I would have done if I could do it all over again. I actually just said, “no doubt,” and walked off.
Since then my friends believed I started hating on “Chuck’s” game. But that was furthest from the truth. I never thought he would lead us to a championship, I always thought he was a selfish bi*ch on the court, and didn’t make anyone better. Prime example is when I asked my mother for Aaron Mckie’s authentic jersey for Christmas over his (I know, I like to stand alone), way before this event ever took place. At the same time I couldn’t understand how people could rightfully cheer for this guy knowing he was a bi*ch a.ss punk, that never learned to stand on his own. But then again, I could… I was the same way, until I experienced it directly.
From there it became a one sided joke that I had a one sided beef with “Bubba Chuck.” I would often deny it, but it was true. If I ever saw that spineless pus*y, I was gonna remind him of everything, and whip his a.ss! Then, I saw the espn 30 for 30, and I saw how his lack of manners and courtesy isn’t really his fault. Then see how he still lives in the past, still wearing long white tee shirts that come down to the knees of his baggy jeans as if it was still 2002. Then I saw him crying like a little punk bi*ch here (Click Here) and said, you know what, maybe I’ll bury my imaginary hatchet with this guy… Then I took a sip of my soda and said, Naaa… “fu*k Bubba Chuck!”
“Life and Times of Tito Five” are based on true stories.