“911, what is your emergency?”
Draymond almost couldn’t hold in his laughter. “Yo lady, we got a fire here at Oracle Arena, send some firemen down here quick!”
“Okay sir, could I have your name?”
“Yeah, It’s Draymond.” His teammates were gathered around, giggling.
“Okay Draymond, before we send a crew down there, tell me a little more about the fire. Is it cooking-related?”
“Nah, nah, nothing like that. But you might need to send some ambulances too. Because I’m on fire!!!!” He hung up the phone.
“Dude, you’re gonna get so suspended,” teammate Andrew Bogut said. “But it’s a good thing you hung up, ’cause timeout’s almost over.”
Draymond shrugged. “Don’t matter to me. Coach never plays me. He’s takin’ me out right now even though I scored our last six points.” He sat down on the bench and got out his phone. “I think I’ll call ’em again, man, this joke never gets old!”