Randolph was ecstatic. He spread his arms, feeling like he could do anything tonight. He was like an eagle soaring through the sky, able to swoop down and snatch any chick it desired.
"Kevin Garnett, that mega-contract of yours should be mine! You're the real overrated cancer. The Minnesota Timberwolves got totally screwed over by you. They spent all that money and got nothing to show for it, all while making you a superstar. Tsk, tsk, tsk."
Zach Randolph taunted Garnett relentlessly.
He was a petty man. If someone pissed him off with a single word, he'd hold a grudge for a lifetime.
Garnett was so furious he was grinding his teeth. He immediately demanded the ball to take on Randolph one-on-one.
But Garnett wasn't a great isolation scorer. His career-high in a single playoff game was only 35 points. What did that prove? It proved he wasn't a high-volume scorer. The role he was best suited for was being a team's number two.
CLANK!
His turnaround jumper clanked off the iron.
