There’s an old axiom that I could never get enough of. While grossly politically incorrect, and extraordinarily insulting, it’s one of those adages that despite its ills, has stood the test of time. The saying goes something like this: “Father’s Day is the most confusing day of the year for the employees of the National Basketball Association.” Fact of the matter is, most of the men cashing seven figure checks from the association did not know or were not raised by their biological fathers. Unfortunate as the fact is, it is fact. However, nary a Mother’s Day passes where we can have reasonable expectation to avoid the return from commercial break custom of players shouting out their mommas and giving them love. And while it seems clear, lucid and never confusing to these players who momma is and what she has done to get him to this point in his life, my question is, how many of these guys actually know how many mommas they have made into baby mommas with no pops, perpetuating the cycle that is the NBA family tree?

I have the solution. Next Mother’s Day, it’d be nice to see J-Kidd shouting out his moms for her raising him and giving love to his better half Jumanna for being such a great wife and mother that she allowed him to beat the crap out of her sans recourse and then see a scrolling disclaimer that goes something like this: “If you have slept with this man, protected or unprotected in the past ten years and have a child vaguely resembling him, please call this hotline as you might be untitled to half of what is his---translation---a giant amount of cashish. If Larry Bird did it, why can’t he? Call Now!” Just a thought.