50 Questions About Chris Webber’s March Madness Burger King Commercial

If you’ve watched this year’s NCAA Tournament for any amount of time over the past two weeks, you’ve probably seen Chris Webber’s new Burger King commercial dozens of times. It’s … it’s a little strange. It’s not as strange as an Old Spice commercial or one of the millions of GEICO ads that feature talking animals behaving like jerks, but, I mean, a guy in a crowded March Madness house party gives Chris Webber a cheeseburger in exchange for a ride on his shoulders. That’s weird. And that’s before you start digging into all the Whys and Hows surrounding that basic premise, which reveal even more Whys and Hows that drag you down into a spiral of confusion and concern about Chris Webber’s financial well-being. It’s all a bit disquieting, to be honest.

Point being: I have a few questions.

Why is Chris Webber wearing his own jersey at this party?

Does Chris Webber wear his own jersey a lot?

Isn’t that kind of, you know, corny?

Or is it the world’s biggest power move?

If you were a famous athlete, would you wear your own jersey when you went out?

Do you think it would weird people out?

Like, when you were walking down the street wearing your own jersey and sipping on an iced coffee, do you think people walking past you would start doing mental gymnastics like “Hold on. Was that Mitch Casino?” — FYI: Your name in this scenario is Mitch Casino — “Because it looked just like him. But why would he be wearing his own jersey? That would be so weird. Was it … was it a guy in a really good Mitch Casino costume? If so, where was he going? It’s 9:30 in the morning on a Saturday in April. He can’t be going to a costume party, can he? I … I’m so confused right now. Was that really hi-…” and then start crossing the street on a red light after losing focus and THWAP get smushed by a speeding cab?

You know, like this?

Would you ever go to the bank in your own jersey, and when the teller asks for ID, just turn around and point to the name on the back and be all “I’m THIS GUY”?

Everyone at the bank would hate you, right?

What if instead of wearing your own jersey, you wore the jersey of another active player in the league, or a teammate?

Would that be more or less weird?

Do you think when twins play on the same team they sometimes swap uniforms and pretend to be each other to entertain themselves?

Or when the better one one fouls out, do you think they ever secretly swap real quick so he can stay in the game?


What is up with this party?

Why does the host have three mid-sized flat screens mounted on a brick wall?

Wouldn’t it have made more sense to roll all that money together and get one giant flat screen?

Is he some sort of big-time sports gambler — like Matthew McConaughey in Two for the Money — who always has money on multiple games at one time, so he has three TVs to keep track of as many as possible?

Speaking of McConaughey, Chris Webber is wearing a yellow Michigan jersey — even though it doesn’t actually say Michigan on the front, which I have chosen to believe is a dig at the school that distanced itself from him after his improper benefits scandal resulted in their Final Four banners coming down, and not, like, the result of very basic rules about using the school’s name in a commercial for hamburgers — in a commercial for Burger King. Yellow jersey … Burger King … yellow … king… IS CHRIS WEBBER THE YELLOW KING?

More like “Timeouts are a flat circle,” right?

Wait, are we still doing True Detective jokes?

We’re not, are we?


Anyway, back to the party: Do you think it’s a little shady that Chris Webber and Dutch Caponegro — FYI: The host/notorious-sports-gambler’s name is Dutch Caponegro now — are close enough friends that Webber would come to Dutch’s apartment for an NCAA Tournament party instead of watching it in his own spacious home or on the TNT set?

What’s going on there?

Did Charles Barkley introduce them?

And what’s up with the other guy in the commercial?

Why is he so surprised to see Chris Webber?

If you were at a party thrown in the apartment of your sports gambler friend, and 6’9” five-time NBA All-Star Chris Webber was in attendance, wearing his own iconic, bright yellow college jersey, don’t you think that’s something you’d be aware of within 5-10 seconds of walking in?

I mean, even if he was sitting down and you couldn’t see him, wouldn’t like three different people run up to you — especially if you’re such a huge Chris Webber fan that the mere sight of him makes you scream — all be all “Yo. Okay, so play it cool, but guess who’s at this party… Chris Webber”?

And why did he bring Burger King sandwiches to the party?

Isn’t there any food there?

If you were throwing a big, all-day NCAA Tournament party in your apartment for what appears to be 30+ people, including at least one celebrity, wouldn’t you at least get a couple pizzas or something?


Why is Chris Webber — who, according to, made over $175 million in salary alone during his NBA career — so freaking jazzed about Burger King’s new 2 for $5 deal?

Is he just frugal, or is he having serious money troubles?

Do you think he and Dutch Caponegro met each other because he wanted tips on sports gambling, but he got carried away, and now he’s in too deep and burning through money at an alarming rate?

Am I to seriously believe that Chris Webber will let a stranger ride on his shoulders — for a length of time not less than “one college basketball game” — in exchange for a $2.50 cheeseburger?

Because if so, that is INCREDIBLY useful information, is it not?

How many cheeseburgers do you think it would take to get him to fly to Coachella and carry you around like that for both weekends so you can have unobstructed views of your favorite acts?

Like 100?

That would totally be worth it, right?

Do you think Chris Webber let that guy do a bunch of dunks on the regulation basketball hoop in the apartment while he was giving him a ride?

Was everybody else at the party SO JEALOUS?

Like, do you think a few weeks later when he’s out to dinner with a few friends, only one of whom was at this party and saw it, that friend will wait until he’s done telling the story about doing alley-oops while riding on 1993 NBA Rookie of the Year Chris Webber’s shoulders at a March Madness party, and then try to sh*t all over it to knock him down a peg, like “You were only up there for a little while, Steve”?

Ugggghhhhh, that guy is the worst, huh?

What’s his deal, anyway?

Why can’t some people just let other people have their moment without turning it into a competition that they’re apparently petrified of losing?

I mean, Jesus Christ, it’s not always about you, you know?

Do you think we should change the plural of alley-oop to “alleys-oop”?

I think we should.