When you get locked up in the big house for the first time you never forget it….and my day came in November of 2002. Never forgot it…was flying in Monday night to <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com
ffice:smarttags" /><st1:City><st1
lace>Miami</st1lace></st1:City> Int’l…the Eagles were playing the Niners that nite and were 7.5 point dogs (McNabb was out). The plane landed at <st1:time Hour="8" Minute="50">8:50</st1:time> and my room was waiting for me at the Marriot in the Airport. Never made it to the room, or through immigration for that matter. I’ll never forget Tiny as he was referred to by all of the inmates……looked exactly like Shaq…..but bigger….I do know one thing that he was the nephew of Charles Barkley, or so he claimed. Tiny was in charge of serving the food from the kitchen each day. My first Sunday was a day that will live in infamy for me. It was about six in the morning and Tiny handed my breakfast tray to me….which had an extra apple on it. I said “what’s this.” He told me that we were going to be bros and that I should enjoy the extra apple. I later learned that when someone gives you their dessert, bread, or fruit it is a sign of friendship. I thought it might not be a bad idea to be a friend of Tiny. About two hours later Tiny told me to meet him in his cell in five minutes. I thought this is the end of my world as I know it…I’m about to be sodomized by a guy that looks like Shaq with size 22 sneakers. I thought what do I do now…get Vaseline from someone….or shove a sock up my rectum? I was somewhat relieved when I entered his cell and he said to me why do you look so white….whitey? I was relieved when he told me to sit down and he handed me a small piece of paper. It had all of the matchups for the NFL for that day on it…with some really strange lines. He said to me, “I heard you’re the man’. I said, “What does that mean” ….he said come on man….we’re bros. I found out that in prison there is no need to tell anyone what you did in life, or who you were, or what you did to get there…they know it all…..the inmates have a better rap sheet on you than the FBI. He told me to pick all of the winners for him so he could play it with the prison bookie. I told him that these lines were not even close…he told me not to sweat it, and get it done….in 15 minutes! The pressure was on…..what if I messed up…what if I had my worst day….what would the consequences be……?
I’m off to the beach this weekend for some R&R…be returning on Monday for the conclusion (Part II) and you guys can tear into all of this while I’m away…..Have fun!
ffice:smarttags" /><st1:City><st1lace>Miami</st1lace></st1:City> Int’l…the Eagles were playing the Niners that nite and were 7.5 point dogs (McNabb was out). The plane landed at <st1:time Hour="8" Minute="50">8:50</st1:time> and my room was waiting for me at the Marriot in the Airport. Never made it to the room, or through immigration for that matter. I’ll never forget Tiny as he was referred to by all of the inmates……looked exactly like Shaq…..but bigger….I do know one thing that he was the nephew of Charles Barkley, or so he claimed. Tiny was in charge of serving the food from the kitchen each day. My first Sunday was a day that will live in infamy for me. It was about six in the morning and Tiny handed my breakfast tray to me….which had an extra apple on it. I said “what’s this.” He told me that we were going to be bros and that I should enjoy the extra apple. I later learned that when someone gives you their dessert, bread, or fruit it is a sign of friendship. I thought it might not be a bad idea to be a friend of Tiny. About two hours later Tiny told me to meet him in his cell in five minutes. I thought this is the end of my world as I know it…I’m about to be sodomized by a guy that looks like Shaq with size 22 sneakers. I thought what do I do now…get Vaseline from someone….or shove a sock up my rectum? I was somewhat relieved when I entered his cell and he said to me why do you look so white….whitey? I was relieved when he told me to sit down and he handed me a small piece of paper. It had all of the matchups for the NFL for that day on it…with some really strange lines. He said to me, “I heard you’re the man’. I said, “What does that mean” ….he said come on man….we’re bros. I found out that in prison there is no need to tell anyone what you did in life, or who you were, or what you did to get there…they know it all…..the inmates have a better rap sheet on you than the FBI. He told me to pick all of the winners for him so he could play it with the prison bookie. I told him that these lines were not even close…he told me not to sweat it, and get it done….in 15 minutes! The pressure was on…..what if I messed up…what if I had my worst day….what would the consequences be……? I’m off to the beach this weekend for some R&R…be returning on Monday for the conclusion (Part II) and you guys can tear into all of this while I’m away…..Have fun!
. i look forward to the rest.
