Russell Westbrook played basketball with an almost pathological belief in his ability. It made him an MVP, phenomenon, contradiction — and absolutely impossible to ignore.

Twenty years after the greatest regular season in franchise history and 22 since their last world title, this generation’s Stones are back in their familiar role as league spoilers.

Willie Bell did not abide cutting corners, and it’s that pride she demanded in both our output and overall character that I’ve strived towards since choosing this craft as my life’s passion. 

Dive into the best of 2023 with Masego, Don Toliver, Victoria Monet, Baby Keem, Metro Boomin, and more. These artists define the year's sound in our exclusive rankings.

For two leagues that are predominantly Black and brown, and in a country that pays Black women 64 cents to every dollar paid a white male, the NBA is uniquely positioned to make one of the boldest statements regarding women’s and civil rights that this nation — this planet — has ever seen.

Crazy enough, what might be the most stable organization in the National Basketball Association, that franchise roughly 400 miles to the north of Chino Hills, is in pole position to bring LaMelo Ball in the fold. And maybe even crazier, I think he’s the obvious choice for the Golden State Warriors in this year’s NBA draft.

All things considered, Big Sean probably couldn’t have made this version of Detroit 2 three years ago. Patience is a virtue, and I’m willing to wager he learned that one from the city he calls home.

Since George Floyd’s murder caught national attention, discussions around issues of race and gender have suddenly become much more candid, and seemingly much less ephemeral. We may actually be our closest to finally getting that boulder over the hill than we’ve been in this nation’s history. Seriously.

I almost chose to sit this eulogy out. I mean, transparently, making fun of Kobe’s eccentricities has been a favorite pastime of mine for two decades. His scuffle with Chris Childs remains quality content, to this day. He semi-pursued a music career, and enlisted Tyra Banks for his only single. I used to make fun of his mini-fro just because I thought it looked dumb. (In hindsight, he started the era of the thot fro twenty years ago. A man truly ahead of his time.)

Triumphant yet grateful, Nip allowed a brief, rare moment to enjoy the fruits of his labor, decking his grandma out in a Puma sweatsuit and bringing her aboard his private jet to enjoy a glass of champagne as visual representation of the generational change he’s providing, even after death. I hate it that Nipsey Hussle died so young. I hate that he died at his happiest even more.

It sucks that Professor Morrison’s passing was the spark I needed to write for myself again, but I’d be a hypocrite considering her a role model and mentor while continuing to be so passive about my truest passion. I know I’m a damn good writer, because I wouldn’t have launched this project if I didn’t. I can’t be a writer if I, er, don’t write. The plainest truths are often redundant that way.

It’s insane LeBron continues to play these 48-minute games in Season 15, but I have no reason to believe he’ll slow down, either. And, to his credit, he has a short memory: for better or worse, he’ll be kicking the ball to Earl for open 3s on Sunday as if nothing happened tonight. He doesn’t really have a choice, no. But I’m not doubting the guy again.

This is “know yourself; know your worth” years before Aubrey said it, “if you don’t want me, then don’t talk to me” without any of Fantasia’s heartbreak. Beyoncé doesn’t need you. Don’t you ever for a second get to thin... wait, that’s an entirely different song. Regardless, you get the point.

Ironically — or maybe not — their beef came at the apex of each rappers’ career: Paper Trail is T.I.’s last #1 album on the Billboard Hot 100, and Shawty Lo never saw that kind of mainstream attention on his music again. I might’ve found Tip’s responses petty, but he probably saw a guy he knew and respected and, most importantly, wanted his spot; this guy from down the block might’ve never held T.I.’s universal appeal, but he could threaten his neighborhood status, and that was enough to merit comebacks that were, frankly, mean.

You want to see the exact moment Lil Wayne becomes a supernova? Here it is, right here.

On October 27, 2012, around 6PM London time, I learned the Thunder traded James Harden to the Houston Rockets. The Thunder vaguely claimed they were unable to reach an agreement on a contract extension; James was seeking a maximum contract of $60 million over 4 years, which the Thunder countered by asking him to take a $4.5 million discount. The Thunder traded away their third head over a mid-level exception.

Major shoutout to Blake Hall and Fresh Never Fades Clothing for the launch of their 2018 Collection 1!

I’ve been crafting my personal brand around the aesthetic that I’d like WSH to exude — clean, refined, much cooler and over everything than you’d believe — and while it can be fun to play that character on Twitter and Instagram, it’s a weird feeling to consider how detached our two personalities can be. Not entirely disparate, mind you; I’d never accuse anyone of faking for likes and retweets. But we’ve all now become curators of our personal running diaries, for better or worse. Can’t blame a curator for exercising creative control, can you? That's precisely why my Twitter drafts folder is pouring over at the moment. Creative control.

Having watched an inordinate amount of hoop this year (shoutout to my Warriors-exclusive League Pass subscription), I think I’m around 77% qualified to tick off who I believe should make this year’s All-Star team. Plus, I needed to get my selections on the website before the official choices for the game's starters come out in like five minutes. Drumroll, please...

No guests this year — just me. (Here’s your chance to tiptoe out the back door.) Per the title, this year’s piece will be far less “scientific” than the first two. I’m way too behind on music to pretend like I’m some sort of expert this year, so consider this a list of my personal favorites. I mean, I think I know a little bit about song construction and stuff, so I’d hope nobody sees this and finds me completely insane for some of these choices. As always, I take this project as seriously as I (think I) should, and I’d love to get your feedback on my picks and even see your “best songs” lists, as well.

Sure, continue to ignore all the intentional system failures harming people of color in the name of pretending we don’t have a legitimate gripe. Let’s also pretend these wealthy, black athletes weren’t dead broke once-upon-a-time, because in this fantasy, they shouldn’t complain about anything! They don’t have it bad at all! Or — even better — let’s continue to pretend that America has this spotless history, that the many terrible things happening right now in the United States — white supremacist rallies, mass shootings by domestic terrorists, the election of an incompetent imbecile to run the country — are just aberrations and not the byproduct of backlash from the eight years prior, anger not only of a black man being President, but of him being damned good at it, too.

Netflix was kind enough to give us 90 minutes of their reunion. I need that unreleased footage though, and sooner-than-later.

Love Jones debuted in theaters on March 14, 1997, in the midst of what I’d argue is a peak in Black cinema. Although this renaissance arguably begins as far back as the late-1980s, the Black romance films of the mid-1990s introduce this extremely wild concept of young, successful, upwardly-mobile African-Americans having the same love issues as, you know, everybody else.

I always fancied one day owning that house, despite my dad’s disbelief I’d ever want to live there. I also thought I’d have him for at least another 20 years, so consider how my feelings for that place soon changed once he was no longer in it. Had I bought the house from my dad or had he gifted it to me, that would’ve been ideal. But it felt weird knowing that house could exist without him, if that makes sense. I hated walking in that door, I dreaded going into his basement, I’d go into the kitchen and start daydreaming about the fake wrestling matches we’d have, I’d look inside his bedroom and notice one side of the bed hasn’t been touched because, oh yeah, only one person sleeps in that bed now.

I do believe Sean was always cognizant of the lack of respect he’d be given in comparison with his contemporaries, but it’s clear now that he doesn’t care. He beat the odds: he’s made it to his fourth album while a ton of his peers have been one-and-done, if they even get that far.

About three months ago, I considered shuttering the website. In many ways, and for a number of reasons, my confidence was shot. I hadn't written a thing in months, and the whole project was starting to feel like an enormous and expensive waste of time. I’ve never been big on asking God for signs, but that day, I prayed during lunch that God reveal to me whether W S H was still worth the effort.

I give my grandma a hug and kiss before I leave the house. “Bye, Granny. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Don’t forget this address and this phone number, now.”

“I won’t, Granny. I promise.”

Last year’s Highly Scientific Ranking of the Year’s Best Songs featured me and me alone. This time, I’ve asked some writer friends to join the fun. Among these friends are academics and professional writers and folks tied into the industry, but most importantly, they are very good people with musical tastes I’ve always respected. I can’t thank them enough for their help with this article, and I’m grateful that folks – friends or not – want their writing on my little startup website.