Typical Timberwolves. They got Shaq, we got Laettner. They got Curry, we got Flynn. They got Towns, we got ...
... wait, we got Towns?
Does that seem right?
After 26 years and 17 almost invariably frustrating trips to the lottery, the sight of the Wolves dancing with the beau of the ping-pong balls -- after decades of accrued draft trauma -- toyed with the mind.
I kept waiting for a tepid swap to an off-brand version. I kept waiting for David Kahn to sell him for six second-rounders and a briefcase of Four Firkins gift cards.