Editor’s note: If you don’t know much about The Beatles, you may want to listen to this first.
The Ballad of Joe and Jacko
Standing on the sidelines of Staples
Watching all these flops and these rants.
My owner’s beet red, he’s shaking his head
I knew he wouldn’t even give me a chance.
Christ you know it ain’t easy,
Assistants tape record me.
The way that I’m coaching
Lacob will crucify me.
Finally made the plane into Oakland,
Watching tape and get in a funk.
Jerry West called to say,
“I’ll be at practice today,
Try to keep me from attending, you punk.”
Christ you know it ain’t easy,
You think I’m blind and can’t see.
The way that I’m coaching
Lacob will crucify me.
Drove from home to the practice facility,
Curry splashing at a high pace.
The newspaper lames, say “He can’t do it in games.”
I said, “Please tell me how I get him some space?”
Christ you know it ain’t easy,
I can’t get Curry a three.
The way that I’m coaching
Lacob will crucify me.
Saving up your starters for a rainy day,
Giving all my bench a run at once.
Last night Barnett said,
“My offense looks straight dead,
Crazyhorse is losing his soul – think!” … say what?
Made a Bart ride into Oracle,
Standing with my hands in my pants.
The Tweeters all said, “I ruined Barnes’ head,
D. Lee plays defense like he’s in drag.”
Christ you know it ain’t easy,
Thank God for Klay and for Green.
The way that I’m coaching
Lacob will crucify me.
Finally win and get to my office.
Meyers slapping White Mamba’s face.
The men from the press said, “Forget your success,
Can you talk Donald Sterling and race.”
Christ you know it ain’t easy,
Announcing’s easy for me.
The way that I’m coaching
Lacob will crucify me.
The way that I’m coaching
Lacob will crucify me.