I stopped by Wizards/Wolves game last night because I didn't have anything to do and they were giving out tickets in exchange for canned food. Something about Y2K, I guess. Seemed pretty legit, but maybe they were planning on deploying some kind of horrible weaponry and needed a stocked bomb shelter. Either way, I took my can of peaches with me down to the gym and got a seat.
And dude, your DAD was playing for the Timberwolves. Yeah, seriously, your dad.
I'm sure it was him. He was bald but had that little bit of side hair like Scott Skiles and the flesh-colored beard. It had to have been your dad. You said he's been able to get back in the gym after the heart thing, right? Yeah, I thought so. It was definitely him. He had the knee braces on and everything.
Oh, and he was doing all those old man moves, like hooking guys when he spins down low and shooting that fade-away from the left block that he loves so much. And he was throwing all kinds of backdoor passes.
I'm telling you, it was him. He was so sweaty. It was kinda gross, but he's like 50 something right? I mean, I sweat a lot and I'm only 25. I can't imagine how sweaty I'll be when I'm 50. I guess twice as sweaty, technically. That's a lot of sweat. I'm a little nauseous just thinking about it.
But it was cool seeing your dad playing again. He was seriously taking it to some of the younger guys. Next time you talk to him, tell him I say hi. He'll know what it means.