BROOKLYN — The green room of the NBA Draft is less of a green room and more of a black carpeted floor. Projected high picks sit at round tables draped with their families as they wait to learn where they’ll live and work in the coming years. Each young man is decked out in a beautiful suit he’s picked out to signal to the world that he has arrived and a big payday is coming. Tearful fathers and mothers (the league tells moms to wear waterproof mascara) sit with their children, ready for the moment their sons get to put on the hats of NBA franchises and validate all the years of sacrifices, blood, sweat and—at least—most of the tears.
The Unbearable Tedium of Waiting to Hear Your Name Called at the NBA Draft
