My Brunch With Burnie

NBA

I recently sat down to brunch with Burnie, the mascot of the Miami Heat.  What follows is the transcript of our conversation (for the sake of clarity I have translated into English all of the wiggles, shakes, waves, and twerks used to communicate in his native language, Burnese [not to be confused with Burmese {the language}, Bernese {the dog} or Béarnaise {the sauce}]).

(Note:  this all happened before Burnie’s unfortunate run-in with Conor McGregor, who I wish nothing but the worst of luck for defiling such a pure soul with his gutter-trash hands.)

–Hello.

–Hello.

–Is it true you were created in a lab?

–The womb is a lab.  Life is a lab.  We were all created in some sort of lab, and we will die in one, no doubt.  The cessation of chemical reactions comes for us all, no?

–Did you once call Alonzo Mourning the fifth-best center in Heat history?

–Yes.

–Why?

–Shaquille O’Neal, Bam Adebayo, Rony Seikaly, LeBron as a small-ball five.

–And your ranking has nothing to do with Zo calling you “an orange-haired freak with no talent?”

–I’m hurt that you would think I could be that petty. 

–I’ve been petty myself over much smaller things.

–It’s good that you’re able to admit that about yourself.

–”Acknowledgement of the self is the one true good in the universe.”

–Who said that?

–Poe, I believe, or Billy Martin.

–Wise men, both.

–Were you upset that Curren$y released an album called “Weekend at Burnie’s?”

–Not at all.  Curren$y and I go back years.  He asked me to record a few tracks on the album with him, but I was unable to due to scheduling conflicts.  

–Scheduling conflicts?

–Betty White and I were parasailing in the Bahamas.  It was a triannual outing we had.

–Three times a year, or every three years?

–Yes.

–So it was also triennial? 

–I don’t try to get into semantics.  All I know is there were a lot of mai tais involved.

–Good times.

–Indeed.

–I know this feels like it’s just me asking you a bunch of questions about your life.  Is that okay?

–Are you paying for this meal?

–I am.

–Then by all means, keep asking, and can we get another round of mimosa for the table then?

–Did you trade places with Hassan Whiteside the year he averaged 17 and 14?

–You may as well also ask if Blaze the Trail Cat did the same thing when he put up 15 and 13 during his year in Portland.

–I’m meeting with Blaze next week.

–Give him my regards.  Things being the way they are, we only get to see each other once a year when we make our trip up there.

–What about when Portland plays at Miami?

–Blaze isn’t allowed in Florida.

–One more thing to ask him about, I suppose.

–It’s a funny story, which he tells much better than I do.  Just don’t ask him about the starfish.  He hates talking about the starfish.

–Noted.

–All that said, I am invoking my right to deliver an official “no comment” regarding Mister Whiteside and my rebounding abilities.

–And hunting blocks to the detriment of team defense.

–And hunting blocks to the detriment of team defense.

–Has your nose always been that green?

–I had a severe bronchial infection as a child.  It used to be black before that.

–What is your relationship with the Sultan of Brunei?

–We get each other’s mail all the time.  Even before autocorrect became a thing.  Somehow even in the snail mail days it happened a lot.

–Brunei’s ZIP code is only one digit off from Miami’s, if I remember my postal history correctly.  (Note:  I looked this up after our meal, and I was horribly wrong.  I credit Burnie’s infinite kindness for quickly switching topics.)

–I also appeared in a few off-Broadway performances of “Hamlet.”

–As Polonius, correct?

–Yes.  A young Ryan Gosling played Hamlet, and I could not be more proud of what he’s done with his career since then.

–I understand his role as Ken in the new Barbie movie is heavily shaded by his previous experience as Hamlet.

–They’re basically the same character.

–What do you think about Tyler Herro trying to distance himself from the Sammy Guevara comparisons by wearing a Jake Hager-style bucket hat?

–I don’t think wearing another garment from someone in the same company, let alone the same faction, was the smartest decision he could have made.  I told him if he went with the Boogeyman’s makeup, no one would ever bring up he and Sammy in the same breath again.  Let’s just say we agreed to disagree on his sartorial choices.

–Are you upset that the Lakers and Knicks have never had a mascot?

–Surprised, yes, but not upset.  I’m amazed it never happened during either team’s Phil Jackson era.  With his vision, I could easily see him coming up with an anthropomorphized body of water sloshing around the sidelines.  And Nicky the Knick?  It practically writes itself.  I’m sure Riles still has some connections up there–I may have to talk to him after we’re done here to see what he can do.

–Speaking of which, how are you doing for time?  I know we’re still waiting on our food, but I don’t want to keep you too long–I imagine you’re quite busy, what with the Finals run and all.

–To be honest, I don’t eat.  I was planning on boxing up my halibut and bringing it to Kyle Lowry.  He loves halibut.  As far as the Finals go, I don’t have too much more of a workload.  It’s mostly maintaining the altar to keep giving the undrafted Heat players their supernatural powers.

–A joke?  Not a joke?

–I never joke about altars.  There’s a sigil drawn somewhere high in the rafters of Kaseya Center, crafted in ink made from the ashes of a Dirk Nowitzki jersey.  

–Lastly, will we see you and Rocky the Mountain Lion inside The Cube?  La La Anthony and Gabrielle Union had a Denver/Miami thing going on in there–surely the two of you could do the same?

–If Dwyane Wade wants to pick up the phone and call, he has my number.

(Postscript:  Burnie texted me from the hospital last night.  He is in good spirits, despite the incident with the Irish brute and the current state of the Finals.  “Life is fleeting, a pebble in a thousand million crisscrossing rivers,” he wrote.  “I am but the merest speck on that pebble.  What a grand crazy fool thing this world is.  Heat in 7.”  [Obviously, he’s still concussed.])

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Christopher Farago

Chris Farago is a poet and writer living in Greenbelt, Maryland.  His work appears regularly in Exterminating Angel Press: The Magazine.

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