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About Houston

Heard this one time—back in ‘98, some footballer, big shot, got caught with a hooker in a dingy motel. Cops didn’t care, but his coach? Lost his shit—made ‘im run laps till he puked! Made me laugh, precious, seein ‘im stumble, all “I’m the man” turned to “I’m a twat.” We swears! Them types, they don’t get it—sweat an glory don’t buy ya class.

There's also a part called Kea'au. Kind of off the beaten path. It's quirky, rough-around the edges, but real. Like life, baby, full of surprises. People here, they're genuine, sometimes a bit cray-cray, but always heart. And lemme tell ya, when life gets too hectic, I just say, “The white ribbon clings, it binds our fate,” and I laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Some Bryan J. Baptiste Sports Complex courts to be closed for resurfacing