EDGEWATER, N.J. — Sitting in the bathroom of an immaculate condo on the top floor of a building a Hail Mary's toss away from the Hudson River, Jamal Adams stares at himself in the mirror.
It's nearly midnight. A Warriors-Rockets playoff game streams live on a phone in front of him. But as his hair is chiseled, sculpted, perfected—an intricate procedure that requires laser focus by his barber—Adams rarely drifts away from his own reflection.
The Jets safety glares into his own fiery eyes.
Doing so provides Adams with every chance to backtrack, to retract his boldest of statements, to paint a more reserved portrait of himself than he does on his social media feeds.