Written by Zach Harper | 26 February 2009

By Phillip Barnett


(Note to all readers. The accuracy of this story is not 100 percent because, well, I was intoxicated when it happened.)

It's not every night you drink and know you're going to have to write about that night at some point down the line (unless, of course you're me - and every night means every weekend for three weekends straight). I've had a few run-ins with a man a normal 22-year-old college student wouldn't recognize, but as an avid basketball watcher and a die-hard USC fan I'm bound to notice guys like Jeff Trepagnier.

As you may or may not know, Mr. Trepagnier played his collegiate years at the University of Southern California and won the collegiate dunk contest in 2001 by sticking his arm in the rim a la Vince Carter circa 2000 (although VC stole the dunk from Kobe Bryant, who was the first to do it in 1998, look it up, I'm sure it's on youtube somewhere, but I digress). Trepagnier was drafted by Cleveland and also played for the Denver Nuggets and played a couple seasons overseas before he ended up in Bakersfield playing for the Jam, the city's D-League team - which is why I now run into him every other weekend.

The first meeting was the first week of January, my last weekend before I started my winter quarter at California State University, Bakersfield. I was out with my friend Davion, who happened to have just broke up with his girlfriend of two years just a couple months before - so you can only imagine how much we went out during my Winter Break.

We showed up to Azulz's, a bar in Downtown Bakersfield (yes, I'm still embarrassed that I go out in Bakersfield, the sooner I graduate the better) and were greeted with a line we normally wouldn't have waited for, but Azulz's is free, which only makes seeing Trepagnier there even funnier. At that time both of us were broke (I'm not going to lie), so we were buying cheap alcohol before hand and drinking just enough to be able to say anything at any given time - a hilarious way to do things, but I wouldn't suggest it if you aren't capable of talking your way out of bad situations.

We were standing at the end of the line laughing at all of the girls who were overdressed for the third trashiest bar in town and all of the dudes trying to get at them when Davion spotted a guy at the front of the line, turned and asked, "Is that Jeff Trepagnier?"

My first reaction, which is usually my only reaction, was to look, laugh then make a joke about the mentioned player, because when you're drunk, every man in Bakersfield looks like some current or former NBA player - and we happen to point this out to each other often. Either way, I just looked at Trepagnier, laughed at the resemblance and shrugged it off - until I looked again and really wondered if it were him.

Since the idea of seeing Jeff Trepagnier was unworldly to us, we thought there was no way it could be him, but we had to find out for sure - so we started yelling his first name.
"Jeff," we called out like little school girls, ducking behind the over-dressed hussies in line, peeping around them to see if he looks.

No response.

So we tried again, obviously a little too intoxicated to have any shame and again, got no response. After a third try, we just decided it wasn't him, and went back to making jokes about the ladies.

We finally made our way inside and over to the dance floor, about 10 to 15 minutes after Trepagnier got in and we are just laid back in the cut (yeah, I just said, "in the cut") checking things out when Jeff Trepagnier walks by us. This was our first close look at the man and we immediately say his name and look away - and this time he looks in our direction and we immediately start laughing because we're in a bar with Jeff Trepagnier - in Bakersfield of all places.

We finally get over it and Davion spots a girl. He immediately walks over, says something to her, and they hit the dance floor. For some reason, it's hilarious every time this happens. I spotted an old friend at the bar and went over to talk to her so I didn't look like the guy who goes out by himself looking for ass.

As we sit there talking some guy walks up behind us and asks what my friend is drinking - then asks me what I'm drinking. I can't remember what she was drinking, but I remember my drunk ass said I was drinking water to clear my sinuses - or something just as ignorant. He looked at me with a confused look his face, called the bartender and said, "Yo, can I get a shot of Patron for the lady and another cup of water for this corny dude over here."

I started dying from laughter because he said "a cup of water," then called me corny. He then leaned over to my friend and introduced himself.

"I'm Jeff," he said with a friendly smile. "Can I get your name?"

She looked at me, and I looked back like "That's Jeff Trapagnier, you better give him your name." She turned away from me, looked at him and gave him her name.

"That's an adorable name for an adorable girl," he responded while I'm sitting there laughing. Adorable? "Are you from out here?

She thanked him for the compliment and told him that she was from Bakersfield, then asked where he was from, because she had never seen him around.

This dude responded with, "I'm from the French part of Compton," and that line had me roaring in laughter, but for some reason she thought it was cute. I was sitting there thinking, "Didn't Chris Tucker say that in "Money Talks"?

They talk it up for a few more minutes before he orders the bartender to get her another shot of Patron, which he takes himself before asking if she wanted to leave with him. I turn around like this man has some balls, then almost die laughing again when she says yes, and they walk out together.

At the same time, Davion comes into the bar section where I was sitting and tells me he got the girl's number and asks me where the hell I had been. That's when I told him about Trepagnier's unparalleled game. And that was the night the legend of Jeff Trepagnier began.  

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