The correct answer to this question is: “Trick question. Bash is sleeping with the head of the Disciplinary Board. All charges dropped.”
From this 1998 New Yorker piece by David Halberstam:
In 1995, after Jordan returned to basketball from his year-and-a-half-long baseball sabbatical, he spent the summer in Hollywood making the movie “Space Jam,” but he demanded that the producers build a basketball court where he could work out every day. Old friends dropping by the Warner lot noticed that he was working particularly hard on a shot that was already a minor part of his repertoire but which he was now making a signature shot––a jumper where he held the ball, faked a move to the basket, and then, at the last minute, when he finally jumped, fell back slightly, giving himself almost perfect separation from the defensive player. Because of his jumping ability and his threat to drive, that shot was virtually unguardable.
Currently picturing Michael Jordan shooting thousands of fadeaways in his Tune Squad uniform.
Well fuck that.
GQ’s Wells Tower wrote one of my favorites pieces of the year back in February, and now he’s back with another longform masterpiece. Remember the story about the Prince superfan slash Elvis impersonator who was accused of mailing a ricin-covered letter to the president, only to be cleared when authorities figured out he was framed by a Tae Kwon Do instructor slash Mensa member? I don’t see how you could forget. Anyway, Tower gets the whole, nutty story, and in the process introduces us to a mutual enemy the two have: a cuss-loving funeral home director slash state representative — everyone in this story is at least two things, apparently — named Steve Holland.
Not long after Dutschke and Curtis’s unfriendly introduction in 2006, Dutschke mounted a campaign for state House district sixteen, against long-term Democratic incumbent Steve Holland. By all accounts, Dutschke’s PR strategy was little more than a public display of bitter, empty vitriol—its rhetoric revolving around comparisons of Steve Holland to Boss Hogg from the Dukes of Hazzard and suggestions that the 9/11 hijackers were Holland’s friends. Why Dutschke loathed Steve Holland so hotly is not clear.
“I had never stood eyeball to eyeball or dick to dick with the man, but for some reason he just hated the hell out of me,” says Holland, a gloriously profane and paradoxically genteel man of 58. “He called me everything from gay to communist. Everything but a child of God. I mean, he had no campaign or agenda except to cut my nuts out…. But you got to get your ass up early and go to bed late to beat my ass. I’ve held this seat for thirty years. I can absolutely make love to a bull moose on the steps of the Lee County courthouse and garner more than 5 percent of the vote.”