The Nets were mired in a two-game losing streak, dropping games to the Hawks and Wizards no less. Then he heard the news that Kevin Durant would miss the next four games due to COVID protocols. Frustrated, Nash stood up from the couch, heel kicked the soccer ball conveniently laying on the floor, then began heading it against the wall. At first, it was a slow rhythmic pace….thump…..thump…..thump

Then thump..thump..thump..thump..thumpthumpthumpthumpthump. The woodpeckers in the neighborhood all flocked to the noise and gawked in amazement at the display of pecking dexterity. Then he heard it. “Honey, rewind that. And turn up the volume.”

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The alerts on Channing’s phone have been going bonkers since I wrote this article. “Honey, I’m getting Google alerts for Step Up!” Jenna rolled her eyes, then placed her hand on her husband’s back, and slowly moved it in a circular motion that Miyagi would be proud of. “It’s been almost 15 years, hon. Are you sure you’re ready for this?” The reviews were not kind: This hokey, formulaic romantic drama is every bit as appalling as it sounds. Ouch. As Channing clicked on the alert, he responded with “That [email protected]#!er Son is writing about Jayson Tatum again!”

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Time to give you a peek into the mind of Son. Many, many years ago, I used to puff the weed, eat the shrooms, and smoke way too many cigs. When in this state of mind, I’d often contemplate the concept of fate and free will, and try to break it down. If I walked down the street and placed my right foot here, then left there, was that preordained, or was I in complete control? If I was meant to be with a woman, would said woman knock on my door if I never left? After way too many times contemplating this, I realized that if you want something in life, you have to go out and get it. With that said, sometimes when you’re out roaming the earth, the universe comes and slaps you in the face. Every night, when I write the recap, I search for who is worthy to be the lede. Last night, there was no searching as it was apparent that I Otto make Porter the lede.

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I try not to write up the same player in the top blurb two days in a row for a variety of reasons. It’s good to change it up. My wife and I are on page 360 of the Kamasutra book that we “read” every night before bed. Ha! Who am I kidding? I’ve been married for 12 years and have two kids. Page 360. Ha! It’s nice to show love to everyone, as there is so much skill in the league, and every night greatness is produced by many. But sometimes, a string of performances is so great that there is nothing to do but bow down and pay homage. In my many years at Razzball, I think I’ve only written a player in back-to-back nights maybe four or five times. Now, this is not a back-to-back, but it’s damn close. On Sunday, Julius Randle went 29/14/7 against the Bucks. After meditating and correcting his issues, Randle came back the next game and went HAM….

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When I play franchise modes in any video game, I try and make it as realistic as possible. I’ll play games out, accept the draft order, not cheese, eat losses when they come, make trades that make sense, and all in all be a good citizen. Injuries? They have to on for sure. But, but, but….I have a confession to make. I have restarted more than one franchise when stupid injuries occurred early on that didn’t make sense. That was my rationale. I feel dirty now. That said, injuries are a part of the game and they make me sad.

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It’s a story as old as time. Hot girl from a different continent arrives at the new local high school. All the dudes go goo-goo gah gah over said hot girl. Popular girls at high school, who were the hot girls before are now relegated to has-been status. But they ain’t going out like that. They get their hair done, splash some intoxicating perfume on, hike up their skirts, and flash some boob, then voila! All the dudes in the house go, what? WHAT?! LaMelo Ball was the hot girl and got all the love and attention in the preseason with his fancy passes and what not, but Terry Rozier wasn’t impressed.

Please, blog, may I have some more?