The first thing I notice about Las Vegas isn’t the lights, although they’re bright, or the heat, although its 120 degrees — it’s the noise. The incessant jangling of slots, the music thumping from invisible speakers, and the din of excited conversation. Not only was this my first trip to NBA Summer League; it was my first trip to Vegas ever.
It’s July 11th, I’ve just landed flying in from Pittsburgh by way of Denver. As my silent cab driver drops me off at Planet Hollywood, I’m officially in Las Vegas. If you know nothing about me, which I imagine is almost everyone reading this, this trip wasn’t just about going to Summer League.