If I’m an opposing defender, I’m looking at Josh Jackson’s smug-looking mug and getting really mad. So mad that I go hard at him every time he comes down the court, playing him close, pulling up my shorts while getting into a defensive stance, maybe even yapping a bit. He just has that tight-lipped half-smirk that would make me lose it. Not his fault. It’s like when chicks have “resting bitch face”. Jackson has “resting smug face”.
I’m sure that’s what Jonathon Simmons was thinking this game, and oh look at this, he got totally DOMINATED in the matchup, scoring a mere 17 compared to Jackson’s 18. Checkmate, Magic homers. Jackson ate Simmons’ lunch on a couple consecutive possessions, and even though the Suns didn’t come away with the win (where’s the help? Booker? Booker?), he can hold his head high. As high as it will go with that huge puffy mass of hair trying to drag it back down to the center of Earth’s gravity.