Meet today’s Thinks He’s / More Like feature, the greatest basketball player ever to come out of Monticello, Mississippi (*cough* except Al Jefferson *cough*): Dallas Mavericks starting (for now) center Erick Dampier.

Thinks He’s: Shaquille O’Neal

A defensive presence in the low-post who has averaged a block-and-a-half for his career, Erick Dampier has been wreaking havoc in the NBA since he came into the L in 1996 as a highly-touted lottery pick out of Mississippi State. Having led his high school and college teams to unexpected success – including a Final Four appearance in 1996 – Dampier was drafted ahead of other quality big men like Jermaine O’Neal and Zydrunas Ilgauskas, as well other nobodies like Kobe Bryant, Steve Nash, and Peja Stojakovic.

Landing the job as the Pacers’ sometimes starting center as a rookie, Erick played pretty well, averaging over 4 rebounds and 5 points a game, despite playing less than 15 minutes. To average those numbers out over 40 minutes, he could have been expected to average a double-double. Not bad at all, and the future looked bright.

The Pacers traded him to Golden State for Chris Mullin and he promptly became the Warriors’ everyday starter, doubling up his points and rebounds averages and establishing himself as one of the talented young centers in the NBA. And if he had retired after 2 1/2 years in the NBA, we’d probably still be able to talk about his career with a little bit of admiration. But against his better instincts, Erick Dampier stayed in the league.

Of course, it’s not very easy to draw favorable comparisons between Erick Dampier and Shaq. But that didn’t stop him from trying. No seriously. In 2004, Erick Dampier called himself the “second best center” in the league behind Shaq. Never mind that it wasn’t true – Yao Ming, Amare Stoudamire, Zydrunas Ilgauskas, Vlade Divac, Ben Wallace, Brad Miller, Eddy Curry, Jamaal Magloire, and Alonzo Mourning come to mind – it even offended Shaquille himself. Please think about that for a second: he complimented Shaq and called him the best center in the game, and that pissed him off.

It made Shaq so mad, in fact, that he still holds a grudge. Calling him “Erica Dampier” wasn’t even that harsh compared to a stretch in 2005 when he was playing injured and said “I feel like Erick Dampier.” Shaq finally found it within himself to kind of compliment Damps when he said he would be “dominant in the WNBA.”

More Like: Shaquille O’Neal the rapper

There’s really no comparison to be made between Erick Dampier and Shaquille O’Neal as basketball players. Not only has Erick Dampier never been the second-best center in the NBA, he’s currently barely the second-best center on his team. Out of two centers that Dallas has, Damps gets the nod as starter so far this season and plays a whopping 3 minutes more per game than his backup DeSagana Diop. And in those three extra minutes, he manages to average fewer rebounds and assists and two more points. Well. That’s pretty special E.

He is the second-best center to ever come from Monticello, Mississippi though – a town of 1700 people. (*cough* Al Jefferson *cough*)

So let’s not compare Erick Dampier to any other basketball players at all. It’s not fair to him.

Erick Dampier’s basketball career, however, is comparable to Shaq’s music career. During his time in the league, E has been a teammate of some bonafide stars and was starting center for a Mavericks team that was considered one of the top teams in the NBA in 2004-05. Although Yao Ming dominated him in Round 1 of the playoffs, his team still managed to advance, where they lost to the Suns. The next year, after replacing Dampier with Diop as the starter, they made it to the NBA Finals. (Where they lost to the Miami Heat and…uh…Shaq…)

But that’s pretty good, isn’t it? Backup/starting center for a perennial deep-into-the-playoffs team. Oh, until the next year they got beat in the first round by #8 seed Golden State.

Anyway, the point is as wack as Erick Dampier is as an NBA player, he’s seen success. He’s worked with plenty of big stars and solid talents, and he’s reached a level of success pretty far beyond what you would expect from a 48.3% field goal shooting center who thinks he’s an All-Star caliber player.

In the same way, Shaquille O’Neal is truly a terrible rapper, but he’s had the joy of recording with legitimately talented emcees like Warren G, Fat Joe, Cassidy, and Bun B. It all started when he kicked a funny little verse with his favorite rap group the Fu-Schnickens when he was a rookie. But then he kept rapping. Then he released an album. Then another. And another. Then he was acting, and doing songs for the soundtracks for his movies. Then he asked Kobe for his opinion on some stuff…

And as fun as that was, you’d have to be deaf to think Shaq was anything approaching “decent” as a rapper.

Or I guess you’d have to be one of the people who helped two of his albums go platinum and the other three go gold.

Wait, I’m sorry what? Shaq has two platinum albums in addition to three gold ones? That doesn’t sound right. How many platinum albums does EPMD have? None? Well, what about his old homeboys, the Fu-Schnickens…? Oh I see…

Erick Dampier doesn’t have a title, so I guess Shaq is a more successful rapper than Dampier is a basketball player.

Even More Like: Pras

Pras is capable of great stuff (“double deuce deal like I don’t Dick van Dyke” is a line that no other rapper will ever touch in terms of how little sense and how much sense it makes at the same time) and has played a role on some great projects (The Score), but even though he comes from the Refugee All-Stars, he’s one of the least successful. Even more, he was supposed to be the accountant for the Fugees, yet somehow he’s owing 19 grand to Fight Klub?

What’s more, a casual hip hop fan likely doesn’t realize who he is. But real heads know he’s made a career of being outshined. Even his one hit single “Ghetto Superstar” is more well-known for the fact that ODB came through with the most coherent verses of his life.

And that makes Erick Dampier the Pras of the NBA. A casual observer barely knows who he is. But a real fan knows Erick Dampier has never been capable of doing much at all.

Today’s Crossover is a proven all-star, while remaining relatively unknown. This NBA forward stands 6’10 and possesses a combination of athleticism, silky smooth skills, and personal polish. Give it up for CB4, Calvin Broadus Chris Bosh.

Chris Bosh

CB4 grew up in Texas, where he quickly made a name for himself as a baller. He was tall, and skilled, and he worked hard and made it into the NBA. You can read his bio on his website. National honors society, McDonald’s All American. It’s all pretty boring stuff.

Intentionally boring even.

It’s a perfect scenario for someone who wants to remain under the radar. Someone whose past might have a certain affiliation that would cause ripples if exposed—tiny, inconsequential ripples.

What if a successful celebrity with a significant amount of wealth wanted to get closer to the game? He builds a basketball court in his backyard dedicated to his favorite team, goes to games in his home city. Maybe he even thinks about trying out before remembering Percy whoops him at 21 and Percy couldn’t make it, despite his celebrity connections. What else can he do?

Maybe he scours the nation for a player who represents what he does. The same consistent skill, the same poise and easy manner. Maybe he spots a lanky, ball-handling All-American with braids and he sees himself. And maybe he’s just watched Being John Malkovich after smoking several bowls of his favorite intoxicant that he stopped smoking in 2002 and wonders, with my resources, could I wormhole myself into another unsuspecting body?

In that entirely plausible scenario, Chris Bosh’s real-life crossover:

Snoop Dogg

Snoop (nee Calvin Broadus) came onto the scene on the shoulders of Dr. Dre, already famous from NWA fame and about to drop the single most defining album of 90s west coast rap. Penning rhymes for Dre and featuring his own easy flow, the two made Dre’s solo debut The Chronic an instant classic, setting the stage for the G funk era.

All was not right at Death Row Records, mostly because of its 300 pound co-founder and Vanilla Ice dangling CEO. Dre jumped ship and after a murder charge nearly erased Snoop’s new success, the Doggfather jumped on the Dirty South bandwagon and signed with fellow basketball lover, Master P.

Why master P? Snoop’s tenure at No Limit Records was mediocre at best. No chart-toppers, no critical love. And Master P was quickly gone after his 1998 hit, “Make Em Say Uhh.” Maybe during this period the two turned their attention to their other goal: secretly taking over NBA players.

The rest is history. Bosh made it to the NBA in 2003, Snoop’s job being done he moved back into center stage by signing with Geffen/Star Track Entertainment in 2004. He released Drop It Like It’s Hot and was back on top, meanwhile every now and then dropping through his wormhole to play as CB—mad fun for snoop but detrimental to his alter ego’s early year scoring averages.

On the serious tip, both men are consistent while never really being front and center. They also seem like cool folks to work with (check NBA All Star balloting video or Snoop’s collaboration with Willie Nelson).

It’s a Queens thing.
So say hello – and quickly say goodbye – to today’s Thinks He’s / More Like feature: Ron Artest.

Thinks He’s: 50 Cent

There are two rules of thumb we follow here at THML: 1. Never start a land war in Asia, and 2. Always try to compare a guy from Queens with another guy from Queens. It’s not that everybody from Queens is the same or even similar, but there’s one thing that seems to tie them all together: emotional imbalance.

We could get into it about Nas and Lamar Odom and Large Professor and Smush Parker and Busta, but we’re really here to talk about why Ron Ron thinks he’s Fiddy. And part of it is the simple fact that they are offended so easily, but more of it is the way they respond when offended.

50 Cent is at the forefront of the unlabeled (until now) genre of music: Roid Hop – which can be loosely defined as rap music made by big muscular dudes who are outwardly hostile to more than their share of rivals and occasionally looks one intense guest verse away from a steroid-induced heart attack. Busta and (recent) LL come to mind, but 50 Cent is nothing if not the poster boy of this movement.

And true to form, when 50 gets pissed, he gets pissy. His first big hit – “Wanksta” – sent Ja Rule’s career into a downward spiral from which he never recovered. His “Gossip Girl”-style disses were too much for Ja to come back from, and he’s barely been heard from since.

When Fat Joe and Jadakiss had the nerve to jump on a song with Ja, 50 went after them too. Later, 50 dissed former friend Nas, former BFF The Game, Cam’Ron, TI, and, uh, Alicia Keys. Recently he’s taken to mocking Kanye West on stage.

In the same way that Fiddy used animosity to become a household name, Ron Artest became known to more than just basketball fans after the Malice at the Palace, for which he was suspended for an unprecedented 73 games. And like his neighbor 50, Ron was fairly sloppy with his aggression: video tape after the fact shows that the poor guy who got his ass beat was not the one who threw the drink at Artest.

But for both these guys, their most infamous beef didn’t come out of the blue. I, like most hip hop fans outside New York, first heard of 50 in 1999, when radio caught his hilarious single “How to Rob,” in which he talks about how he’ll rob all these big stars from Will Smith, to the Wu-Tang Clan, to Missy Elliott, and even Trackmasters – who produced the track!

In the same way, there were warning signs that all was not right with Ron long before he punched an innocent fan in the face in Detroit. His rookie season in Chicago, he applied for a job at Circuit City just for the employee discount. There are plenty more stories like that, that illustrate Artest’s sometimes bizarre decisions not all so light-hearted, you know, like breaking Michael Jordan’s ribs (WTF???) in practice. (Just look at the title of this Sam Smith article: “Artest’s intensity strikes fear in everyone.” Yikes.)

But both men have a reputation for being sweet and totally endearing to most people they come across when not in alpha male mode. Both come across as thoughtful, honest, and accommodating when they’re comfortable in interviews, and the hearsay about both men trends toward “surprised at how nice he was” rather than “worse than I imagined” type stuff.

They have a lot in common, and at least a little of it has to be the Queens upbringing. But they don’t make a perfect match because there’s one huge difference. 50 – whatever opinion you have of his methods – handles his business.

Ron Artest does not.

More Like: Prodigy of Mobb Deep

Having the nickname “Ballerina P” does not do much to boost anyone’s rep as a hardcore gangbanger. Just ask Prodigy. The lead emcee for the revered Queens-based Mobb Deep, the one-time poster boys for gully-ass grimey filthy gutter New York hip hop, until Jay-Z – during his active quest to become the world’s biggest rapper by cutting everyone else down – spilled the beans to all of New York that in childhood, P – or rather, p – took ballet.

But so what? Mobb Deep had one of the all-time great in-house producers in Havoc who could also rock the mic, and Prodigy spit that real life stuff, not the romanticized Mafioso isht or that futuristic nonsense. If any group could survive a little public name-calling, it was Mobb Deep, right? Honestly, who cares that Prodigy took ballet?

Apparently everybody, because Mobb Deep was sent into tailspin, never regaining even a fraction of the street support they once had. Combine that blow with the fact of their damaged relationship with their one-time most famous fan Nas, and the M-O-BB D-double E-P didn’t have much to look forward to, you know, career-wise. Eventually, Havoc and P signed wth, uh, G-Unit, which was a good move because it meant someone who knew how to handle money – in this case, 50 Cent – was in charge of their finances.

And that’s where the Ron/Prodigy comparison makes so much sense. Both men have been a lot better at letting stuff happen to themselves; and not good at all at making it happen for themselves.

Where 50 turned beef and “code of the streets” bullsh-t into a successful and long-lasting career, both Prodigy and Ron Artest let those same ideas prevent them from reaching the levels their god-given talents and early popularity indicated they’d get to.

Right now, Prodigy is serving 3 and a half years – because he was pulled over for an illegal U-turn and found to have illegal weapons in the car. And Ron Artest was just traded to his fourth NBA team after a season in Sacramento where he served a suspension for domestic abuse.

So as much as they had going for them, these dudes are kind of textbook examples of what not to do. Ever.

Thinks he’s: Papoose

Papoose is an underground sensation who made waves a few years back, getting nods on several lists as the best undie rapper out there. Papoose made a name for himself after successfully shopping a mixtape to Hot 97′s DJ Kay Slay, aka the Drama King, aka I Yell Loudly on All My Spins. In 2006, Papoose was on records with *deep breath* Busta, Missy, Chamillionaire, Lloyd Banks, DMX, Joe, Juvenile, Jennifer Hudson, and um, Gym Class Heroes? His debut album is still coming, and it should be huge, with all the hot producers and fancy friends and all that.

It was around that time that Gerald Green was drafted, straight from high school by the Boston Celtics at pick number 18 in the 2005 NBA draft. Commentators thought he’d go top 10, and kept wondering how Green had slipped so far. It was a sign of things to come. But Green was likened to Tracy McGrady, and Boston fans were all excited at this potential star that fell into their lap.

His initial showings didn’t fail to impress. His summer league debut was decent, and it was in one of those games that Gerald jumped the hell over some center in the illest dunk of summer league history.

The bigger question was how Green would hang with an nba team. A baby, Green was unimpressive his first year, jumping back and forth from the Celtics to the D-League. He worked on his game and fared a little better in the 2006-2007 year, getting a fare share of playing time on one of the worst lineups in Celtics history. There were a few moments and highlight dunks that kept fans hoping, showcasing his god-given talent and ease with the ball.

Like Papoose, Green’s still waiting to blow up.

More like: Kris Kross

I feel like this is a little unfair to Kris Kross, who went huge in 1992. Green’s closest brush with that kind of success was the dunk contest, where he was in his element. No one will forget his cupcake dunk, part of a few dunks that made the contest fun to watch again. And in the same way “Jump” propelled Kris Kross to national fame in the early 90s, Green’s jump in the spotlight was a place he wouldn’t stay for very long after.

“Jump” got Kris Kross on tour with Michael Jackson, on video with Run DMC and TLC, a spot in 1993′s Who’s The Man? w/Ed Lover and the less famous Dr. Dre. And oh, there was this, too:

That’s the intro to their video game.

Totally Krossed Out went quadruple platinum. The kids were 12 and 13 when they recorded it, and their voices hadn’t changed yet. They wore there clothes backwards, an ingenious gimmick by group mastermind Jermaine Dupri, who discovered the kids in a mall.

Unfortunately, it proved to be a virtually impossible-to-maintain formula for success. They couldn’t stop puberty, and couldn’t wak around in public with their clothes on backwards in good conscience. Kris Kross got older and their subject matter went from missing the bus to spittin at birds. The public didn’t buy it, and Kris Kross was soon gone from the main stage.

Green similarly never lived up to his hype, and soon faded out. He was part of the trade that brought KG to Boston, getting sent to a Timberwolves team that put him behind Ryan Gomes and newly aquired Corey Brewer. With no playing time he asked to be traded and got moved to his hometown Houston, where he was promptly waived by the team.

Gerald Green came into the league too early, and despite showing some early signs of brilliance, didn’t make it far in the Association.

Then again, who knows? Green got a verbal contract with the Mavs. And Kris Kross reunited last year.

He exploded into the league in 1998 with three major claims to fame: 1. He was the first white NBA player to be decidedly and obviously part of the hip hop generation – earning him the nickname White Chocolate (har har) 2. He was suspended for life from the Florida team after being caught smoking weed FOUR times; and 3. He went to high school with Randy Moss. Say howdy to today’s Thinks He’s / More Like feature: Jason Williams.

Thinks He’s: Eminem

The parallels are almost too obvious. From the release of his first major label album – The Slim Shady LP – it only took a few weeks for Eminem to become the biggest name in hip hop. For newbies to the scene, Eminem represented everything they assumed rap music was not: ironic and sarcastic, angry while funny, dangerous and experimental. He also had a flow unlike any other, slippery and caustic at the same time, and his subject matter was the kind of stuff that appealed to people who thought they were too cool for hip hop: killing his wife, raping his mom, and hugging his daughter.

In the same way, J-Will was also considered a groundbreaker; his flashy streetball moves were brand new to the NBA, and his race and proclivity for smoking weed while in college endeared him to a generation of frat boys who suddenly thought they could break ankles on the playground too. Both men were admired far and wide for bringing their own style to fields that were considered boring in the mainstream.

But the truth is a bit more complicated than that. Em certainly had skills that put him at the top of any class of emcee, but he was far from the father of his style. He even admits to having been influenced by Ice-T, LL Cool J, and NWA; and any hip hop fan of a certain age knows a young Marshall must have spent uncountable hours listening to Treach, Masta Ace, and Kool G Rap.

You guessed it, White Chocolate obviously didn’t invent streetball moves – I mean, he’s from West Virginia. In fact, a legitimate playground legend – Skip to My Lou – was selected in the same NBA Draft as Jason…32 spots lower. That’s right, Jason took Skip’s (now known as Rafer Alston of the Houston Rockets) moves, and rode them to a lottery position in 1998.

Now, pointing out the lack of originality in their work doesn’t diminish their ability one bit. And Jason Williams definitely knows that. He did win a title with the Heat in 2006, and all in all, his career has been a success. Jay probably feels kinship with Eminem in another way, and that’s their reputation for keeping it mad real, saying the things other people wouldn’t say, out of fear of being seen as disrespectful (or in some cases simply because they are wrong).

But there is one problem with the analogy. Even after years of relative non-activity, Eminem is still regarded by many discerning hip hop heads – as well as fanboys and Stans – as one of the greatest emcees ever. No matter what personal opinion one might hold about the path he’s taken to reach this top tier, it’s hard to deny he has at least made it to this tier. And he matters: he made Dr. Dre relevant again, he outrhymed Jay-Z on his own song, and was a driving force behind the emergence of gangsta-pop icon 50 Cent.

J-Dub hasn’t been so lucky (or talented). He won a title with the Batman & Robin show in Miami (Udonis Haslem was Commisioner Gordon, James Posey was Lucius Fox, Antoine Walker was some random Gotham cabdriver who was in the right place at the right time), and while he contributed to that team, he was far from the reason they won. (Maybe he was Alfred.)

In fact, the mere mention of Eminem can still draw folks out of their Jeezy-induced slumber, while the mention of Jason Williams usually results in the question “Which one? Motorcycle? Murder? Oh, White Chocolate?”

This is one detail, but this is a major detail. Thus, even though he thinks he’s the Eminem of the NBA, he’s more like…

More Like: Marky Mark

From Grammy-winning rapper to Oscar-nominated actor, Jason Williams seems to draw favorable comparisons, no?

Oh, but we’re breaking from form a little bit here. I’m not comparing White Chocolate’s NBA career to Mark Wahlberg’s acting career. Actually, let’s forget all about the honors and accomplishments of these two men and focus on one thing that trumps all the other stuff: the horrid horrid racism.

As a young man growing up in the Dorchester neighborhood of Boston, Marky Mark harassed Black kids with racial epithets. Oh, and racial epithets also were in play when he assaulted two Vietnamese men after trying to rob them.

Jason Williams probably deserves some credit for at least not allowing his hatred for Asians to a manifest itself in assault. He prefers the subtlety of, you know, shouting from an NBA basketball court at fans in the crowd, calling an Asian fan a “slant-eyed motherfucker” and threatening to kill him like “the Vietnam War” and “Pearl Harbor.” Interesting how his two historical examples were in fact conflicts that found America on the losing side, but I guess we should cut him some slack since he didn’t get to finish college. You know, the weed-smoking got in the way.

Then after the history lesson, he asked security to remove the Asian guy from the building. So I guess his threats of murder were actually his way of expressing fear – as professional athletes are routinely beat up by season ticket holders in khakis.

But it’s not simply that they are racist hacks, because there are plenty of them around. It’s more that their hate has been pretty much ignored by mainstream America. Marky Mark got his aforementioned Oscar nomination and J-Will got his NBA title with nary a whisper about these incidents. Oh wait, that happens for everybody…

Well I guess what really sets them apart is that despite their outright and subtler but probable homophobia, both have reputations for being popular pin-ups among gay men.

That probably helps them sleep at night.

Who are these great men? Welcome to the world of The Crossover. And who better to start it off than the possessor of one of the league’s best crossovers: Stephon Marbury.

Stephon Marbury

Even fifty years from now, when old school cats are having arguments about the greatest high school players to come out of New York City, there are a few players who will always deserve mention. Kenny Anderson. Lew Alcindor. Earl Manigault. Felipe Lopez. “Starbury” is on that level.

Hailing from Coney Island, Stephon was featured prominently in a book by the revered writer Darcy Frey while still a freshman at Lincoln High School. So touted a prospect, his high school years were turned into a movie starring Denzel and a promising young actor named Ray Allen who has been unheard from since.

From Coney Island, Starbury landed at Georgia Tech, and quickly jumped out of there and into the NBA with the Minnesota Timberwolves. Built around a talented young core of Stephon, Kevin Garnett, and Tom Gugliotta, the Wolves made the playoffs for the first time in franchise history, and things could only get better, as the following season, the Wolves made it back to the postseason and even earned their first playoff win. Eventually, he fell out of favor, and was traded to New Jersey, then again to Phoenix. Wherever he went, he played well; he did, however, develop a reputation as a selfish player, not an attribute that does a lot for point guards.

It only went downhill for our man’s rep from there.

He played on the US Olympic team in 2004, which got its ass handed to it by Puerto Rico, Lithuania, AND Argentina – earning them a bronze medal – and a very well-publicized fall of Western civilization. For the first time, American professional basketball players needed to put in actual effort against other teams in international competition. And Stephon Marbury was part of the team that didn’t.

He also got traded to the Knicks, a development everybody loved because they assumed being back at home in New York City would help ground Starbury and elevate his game to another level. Apparently these folks never saw “He Got Game,” because while certain things definitely got elevated, Starbury’s game was not one of them.

From there it got kinda crazy. Maybe the media has been a little quick to jump to conclusions, but you have to admit, some of the things he said…well, just see for yourself:

“I drink life’s happy water which is bottled at the divine source.” (July 2007)

“Don’t get mad at me, because I’m telling you what’s real. One plus one is two, all day long, and it’s never gonna change.” (Summer 2007)

“[My sister] been praying for this day forever. And it finally happened yesterday when I kissed her. And I felt her body and I felt her soul. I was delighted to be kissing her.” (July 2007)

“Are you going to get in the truck?” (2005)

That last one may be a bit unfair to bring up now. Foreplay is between two people, and what happens in the bedroom – or in a St John’s parking lot – isn’t really our business.

And though it’s fairly easy laugh and judge a dude, it’s kinda important not to lose sight of the good stuff. There’s no question that he never forgot Coney Island and the entire city during his rise to stardom. He even did work with a local company to create the “Starbury” line of sneakers – which retailed for $15 – meant for city kids who couldn’t afford Jordans. Sadly, it was not ultimately successful, but he did his best to use his connections to do something for the hood. More than you can say for, well, for Jordan.

Stephon Marbury’s Crossover: DMX

Just like Starbury, DMX began his career full of promise. It started with an appearance in The Source monthly column “Unsigned Hype” in 1991. After that, a record deal with Columbia Ruffhouse, which came to an end shortly. Pretty soon X was in jail, which would become a theme later on.

When the Dark Man X did reach the big show in the late 90s, he found himself surrounded by young stars, recording with Ma$e, the LOX, Canibus, Meth and Red (not to mention LL Cool J, but his ass was old by then) early on. In 1998, he released the game-changing “Get At Me Dog,” which was deemed too hardcore by the suits and was infamous for finding an audience even without MTV support.

He reached new heights by releasing two number one albums in one calendar year (It’s Dark and Hell is Hot and Flesh of my Flesh, Blood of my Blood) – the first artist ever to do so. He released the hit album…And Then There was X the following year, probably setting some other new record.

But he wouldn’t be Stephon Marbury’s Crossover if there wasn’t a similar downturn. It all started innocuously enough, what with the speeding and possession, but then less common stories started to come out like being arrested for mistreating airline staff, or barricading himself inside to avoid arrest for animal cruelty, and impersonating a federal agent at JFK airport.

And then there was stuff like this:

“What the fuck is a Barack?! Barack Obama. Where he from, Africa?” (March 2008)

“Bite you in your motherfucking ass and rip one cheek off. Have you shitting sideways bitch.” (????)

But the up-then-down career trajectories are not all these two have in common. Like Marbury, DMX stayed true to himself and his roots. Before he blew up, his only friends were his dogs, and he’s continued to keep dogs around him constantly. The animal cruelty charge came at him not because of disrespect, but because he loved them too much to have them buried anywhere but his own yard.

They also both lack any semblance of acting ability, as Stephon marbury couldn’t even get cast in the movie about his own life (!) – and DMX has two ways of delivering his lines in his movies: scared and angry. And they both sound the same.

Like Steph, haters want to say his career is already over. But X is gonna keep on going. Who knows if it’s the smart move, it’s what’s gonna happen so just ride with it.

Thinks He’s: Jay-Z

When it comes to dominance in a game, Kobe and Jay are at the top of their class. Kobe says scoring to him is like breathing. Jay talks about music as his ‘god-given gift.’ I remember catching Jay on the Ellen Degeneres show (as part of a sick-day tv marathon) where he explained to her unfamiliar audience, “give me 15 minutes, I’ll write two hit songs.”

And they aren’t their only fans.

A Sports Illustrated survey polling 242 NBA players asked which baller they found most intimidating—Kobe got 35% of the vote. The next four players in line: Shaq, KG, Lebron, and Dwight, combined for 24%. And to legitimize Kobe’s scoring-like-breathing claim, there’s his 2005 romp on the Mavericks, when he went for 62 points in three quarters, at that point outscoring the entire Mavericks team, 62-61.

Kobe topped that feat in 2007 by going for 81 against the Raptors. 81 points. Taking out the minutes he sat on the bench, that’s about a basket every minute. That 2006-2007 season was a showcase year for Kobe, where he scored 50+ points in four straight games, tying him with Wilt Chamberlain as the only two players to have ever accomplished that feat. Wilt’s also the only player to have surpassed Kobe’s single-game 81 point mark. Add that to three consecutive championships, and Kobe is arguably the best player in the association.

Jay Z has a similarly loaded resume, combining commercial success w/critical respect, and working his knack for rhymes into a business empire. Jay Z hit the gas with his first studio album Reasonable Doubt and never eased up, releasing an album nearly every year. Every one of his studio albums went platinum.

Jay Z has since become a household name, moving beyond music to icon status, parlaying his fame into all types of cash. He inked Reebok’s first shoe deal with a non-athlete, took over as CEO of Def Jam, and he’s currently got a deal in the works with Live Nation with numbers hitting 150 mil. That’s gravy on top of his successful RocaWear clothing line, his clubs, his liquor, and his other business ventures.

Jay’s income easily puts him at the top of the ‘hiphopreneur’ list. Considering that level of output by both parties, the Kobe::Jay comparison should be a lock.

Not so much.

Despite being unrivaled in their class, the two men show some striking differences away from their respective jobs—most striking in respect to their public image. While Jay’s easy flow and professional persona are both carefully maintained, Kobe has had a hell of a time dictating how he wants to be seen. This inconsistency with the media and off-the-court attention is what makes him less like Jay, and…

More like: Kanye West

Kanye West is no stranger to hard work and success. Making his name as a producer, Mr. West carved a signature sound sampling classic funk and soul jams, creating that high-pitched singing ?uestlove lovingly dubbed ‘Squirrel Soul.’ Despite lacking commercial “street” appeal, the spoken word leaning lyricist fought hard to prove himself as a rapper, eventually signing to major label Rocafella Records. He released College Dropout and the rest was history, fashioning a seat for himself at the top of the billboard charts, proving once and for all that he had the talent to be a major player in the industry. Right? We good?

Not really. Kanye famously threw a fit at his first Grammy awards despite taking home three statuettes that night. Kanye wanted that Album of the Year (which he lost to U2), and dude threw some fits. Then he threw some more at the MTV Europe awards, this time making like Zoolander and going on stage to address the crowd despite losing the award. He just wanted to complain.

Where Kanye, Kobe, and Jay share in success, the brothers K start to stand out for their extra-curricular antics. Shit got ill for Kobe in 2003 when he was charged for sexual assault, but Kobe ramped it up by going on a very public rant about Shaq in an interview with ESPN’s Jim Gray, starting a rift that now has its own extensive wiki page. The Shaq-Kobe dynamic bears some resemblance to the Jay-Kanye duo too, though Ye has been much more effusive about his Big Brother.

Since then both figures have continued to show up in the press for reasons that go beyond the bounds of their profession, polarizing their fan base and spawning obnoxious fans and haters alike, making the figures all the more tiresome. Kobe gets the More Like Kanye vote in that they’re both top-tier in their industry and don’t seem completely happy about it. Maybe they’re just media goons. Whatever the cause, that dissatisfaction often comes off like arrogance or petulance, keeping them in the mouths of many, for better or worse.