It was one of those things you say kind of serious, but when you see the reaction (in this case people shitting themselves trying to top the last person in a 'loudest most obnoxious' laugh contest, while I sit there grinning trying not to cry) you pretend that you said it to get a good chuckle out of people. Then when no one is looking, you turn around and wonder out loud if anyone will miss you if you were to drop a plugged in toaster into your bath later on that night.
But after last night, my friends, I am the Lone Ranger when it comes to laughing at my jokes.
You see what happened last night started out as just a friendly game of '21' before my work out. Again, it only started out as friendly. It transformed into an over competitive display of raw athletic ability and served as my coming out party as a deadly marksman from behind the arc.
If you aren't familiar with the rules of '21,' first and foremost, shame on you. But if you don't, they are simple you play basketball against atleast two other people, acting as every man for himself. You make a basket, whether it be a '2' or a '3' you get freethrows. If you missed shot gets tipped in by an opponent you lose all your points. If your point total ever ends up a '13,' or ends up higher then '21' you start back at 0.
Now that you're familiar here is the recap of the game: My buddies Weezy and Chaz were taking advantage of me being a little under the weather but at the same time, taking turns tipping in their shots and consistently keeping a 0 score.
During this time I had no energy to drive to the hoop, and wasn't hitting my jumper. Any time I decided to take it to the hoop, Weezy sent it away effortlessly. It was not looking to go my way.
After twenty minutes of play, and one such blocked shot by Weezy, something inside me snapped. The preverbal monkey was tired of being pissed on and there was no banana to satisfy my blood lust. Over the following twenty minutes I hit 11 threes and scored over 40 points (21 is a cruel game) including a Dwayne Wade esk, game winning up and under.
It didn't matter if it was wide open, one on one, or two on one I was hitting everything. Fall aways, runners, jumpers, they were all falling. I imagine it was like watching a baby's conception.
I was f***ing magical.
So as it still might just be a joke about me entering the NBA draft, what's not a joke is my game. I seriously might be the greatest white non NBA player ever.
Lets relive that previous statement so we can understand the magnitude. "Greatest white non NBA player EVER!!!" Ever? Yes, Ever. And if you would've seen me playing last night, you wouldn't hesitate to stand by my claims.
Allen Iverson is known as the Answer, Paul Pierce is the Truth. From here on out, Andrew Belvin is the Proclamation.
Chalk it up.
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