When I was a teenager, I used to play on a local basketball team. It was a thing right out of the most cliched underdog sport movies: scrawny kids with glasses, uncoordinated tall guys, a fat kid who couldn’t move but shot fairly well and a couple legitimately good players (one of them, my partner in crime in the post, was so good that he got an invite to try out for Fortitudo Bologna – a Serie A team, but of course we’re talking about their young academy). Problem is, we were always – always – shorthanded. While that explains why a 5’9″ guy like me would routinely end up playing 35mpg at the PF/C spot, it also meant that our coach had to play ubershort rotations while sometimes having to give spot minutes to this – I kid you not – 4’7″ 15 year old whose torso looked definitely smaller than the ball.
Utah Jazz 100 – New York Knicks 112 – Game Recap
