If you remember, Kangy the inflatable Kangaroo was a mascot used by some fans during the magical 2006-2007 NCAA tournament run. he came to home games, then to Atlantic City when GW won the tourney, and Greensboro for the NCAA tournament games against UNC-Wilmington (the awesome comeback from an 18-point second half deficit, started when Mike Hall fired up everybody else on the team) to the loss to Duke.
After that, Kangy disappeared. He left a note in 2009 that he was safe and sound, and then posted on GWHoops that he was waiting for the right time to come back to the world -- kind of like Aztec deity Quetzalcoatl. (Of course, the Aztecs may have thought Cortes was Quetzalcoatl, and that didn't end very well.)
But anyway, Kangy is back. He just posted a hilarious screed about his whereabouts -- he was in Tijuana then Atlantic City in a mistaken quest to find the A-10 tourney -- and then provided a list of 15 bars to check out near the Barclays Center in Brooklyn, complete with a Google Map he made himself (supposedly along with Ukraine Train Alex Kireev, who I hope is safe these days in that country.)
The bars are all rated on a scale of 0 to 5 Technical Fouls for Pregame Dunking, which happened a few times during the Karl Hobbs/Pops Mensah-Bonus/Mike Hall/JR Pinnock/Omar Williams/Carl Elliott era.
Here's a small sample of the great note from Kangy. Please do yourself a favor and read the rest.
Have you ever stood at the end of an Atlantic City pier and contemplated your own death? Rocked your feet back and forth on a bed of broken Miller Lite bottles and imagined your lungs filling up with the brackish water? Have you stared out at the horizon and tried to see across to the other side of existence itself?We're glad you're back, Kangy.
If not, I highly recommend it.
As I mentioned to you all a few weeks ago, I recently returned to the East Coast after seven years of self-imposed exile in Tijuana. Sure, fighting bulls during the day and slinging drinks in a Russian roulette lounge at night was fun, but God damn did I miss my GW basketball. Rest assured, not a day went by where I didn’t think about my boys in buff in blue—I even began a daily meditation routine in which I imagined I was the rim in the west end of the Smith Center, methodically bobbing up and down, up and down, as Pops and JR thundered through the lay-up line. I always knew the day would dawn that would see me return home.