Bill Simmons (a.k.a. "The Sports Guy) is my favorite Sports Columnist. He writes for ESPN.com's Page 2 on what's called Sports Guy's World. I was reading his annual column of most valuable contracts in the NBA when I came across this gem:
"If you ever played basketball, you know there's one rule with big guys: Make sure they touch the ball enough. If they don't get enough touches, they get cranky. They stop running the floor. They stop setting good picks. They stop crashing the boards. Big guys are like women -- they need affection, they need to be stroked every so often, and if you ignore them, they start to resent you."
Now that's some genius insight. And, just for the heck of it (since I Twittered and Facebooked it) - here is a quote from another part of the column. Bill was talking about All-Star Weekend (last Friday-Sunday in Dallas). Rather than try to set-up the quote properly, I'm just going to reprint the entire story. I hope that's legal.
....So it's 2:45 in the morning on Friday night. All the Dallas bars and parties have either closed down or stopped letting people in. I'm standing on Main Street with a bunch of people, including Worldwide Wes, the renowned NBA power broker who's really a cross between Confucius, a benevolent uncle and The Wolf in "Pulp Fiction" to assorted NBA superstars and up-and-coming stars. Known as "Uncle Wes" to the players, he carries more weight within the league than basically anybody. Because he keeps such a low profile, I could never figure out why. Which is why I went out of my way to spend some time with him on Friday night.Back to Main Street: We're standing with a young player who wants the night to keep going. The young player pushes to find another bar even though the odds are against it. Uncle Wes makes a face. He's squashing this right now.
"Nothing good can happen at this point," Wes explains simply. "You can't chase the night. When the night is over, the night is over. That's just the way it is. You just gotta wake up tomorrow and hope for a better day."
Uncle Wes had spoken. I am not exaggerating by saying it's a strangely profound moment. Within 15 seconds, our group splinters in three directions to look for cabs. I find one with my friend Connor. We climb in. We look at each other.
"I will never be able to properly explain that story to anyone," Connor said.
Agreed. You can't chase the night. It was like hearing a human fortune cookie. I went back to my hotel, took my contacts out, crawled into bed and hoped for a better day. These are the things that happen at NBA All-Star Weekend.
Wow.
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