Last week, we extended the offer: pick all four NFL games correctly, with the point-spreads, and you’ve got yourself a free post. And commenter Magglio Merkin did just that, and here’s what he has to say …

This space could have been used to beg Terrelle Pryor to join the Wolverines, or hate on LeBron. Instead, I would like to introduce to you some of the personalities you run into when playing pick-up basketball at your local bucket. I have listed them in order of least hated to most hated.

* Fundamental Frank: This is the ancient guy who can no longer run and has the same knee braces as Jeff Saturday. He probably has coached at one time or another and loves to tell you about it. Sure he is old, but his elbows are sharp and his post game is flawless. He usually smells like a retirement village which only serves to elevate his game.
* Mild Sauce: We have all D’ed up on this kid. You may recognize him by his headband (or two), a few Nike sweatbands on his elbows, and one leg sleeve. You guard him because he is shorter than you, but little do you know he doesn’t play defense anyway. He talks a ton of trash and shoots only three pointers. Also, this dude is always a black hole – the ball goes to him and it never comes back.
* Johnny Hustle: Everyone’s favorite ball breaker. His 30 + years lacking any athletic talent have produced a soul of pure evil. Rebounds are his pleasure and if you get in his way you can expect an undercut. This is the guy who dives for balls heading out of bounds and couldn’t hit a shot to save his life. Somehow, whenever he saves the ball from going out of bounds, he rockets it off your nuts.
* The Hack/ Whistle: The man in the middle. On defense, he sits his fat ass in the lane and doesn’t move. When you head in, you are getting a forearm chop to the head or face, it matters not. Your pain is his gain. If you even try to call a foul you will be showered with tears and saliva as he goes napalm in defiance. On offense, he goes all whistle on you. No nudge is too soft for this guy. If he feels a shirt brush his arm he is taking it to the top, no questions asked.
* The Mental Michael Jordan: My personal favorite. He feels he is the best there was, the best there is, and the best there ever will be. Nobody can run with him. He will shoot the rock if given an opening. But if you shoot it, you had better make it or you are damn sure hearing about it. If he turns it over, it was due to your lack of communication. If he misses it, you weren’t moving enough to clear out his defender. His glare is a little too Ron Artest and it tells everyone in the gym that this guy is bat shit bonkers. He will chuck a ball at a kid who accidentally walks on the court because, you know what? He doesn’t give a fuck about a kid.