“Thanks for coming in. We just wanted to ask you a couple of questions before we welcome you to the Lakers organization.”
Mitch Kupchak sat behind the desk in his expansive office. Next to him on both sides were various cronies and front-office workers. MarShon Brooks, in his best interview suit, awaited the first question.
“How would you describe your game?”
“Well, I consider myself a scorer first and foremost. I like to score. That’s what I do best. I like to have the ball in my hands and have the offense run through me. Defense isn’t really my thing, but I can put on the pressure if there’s a big matchup. ”
“That sounds perfect, exactly what we are looking for. Next question. Have you ever raped a woman?”
MarShon looked taken aback at this one. “I don’t know what you all been hearing about me, but I respect women and would never do something like that.”
Kupchak looked relieved. “That’s great. Really great. Last question. Are you Kobe Bryant?”
MarShon stared bewilderedly at the Lakers GM. “No, I’m not Kobe, I’m…”
As soon as he said he wasn’t Kobe, a shadow passed over the room. The assorted Lakers staff stared angrily at him. Kupchak himself betrayed no emotion. The life seemed to have been drained out of him. Realizing what was going on, MarShon recovered.
“Sorry, I misunderstood the question. Yes, I am Kobe Bryant.”
The mood in the room shifted quickly from angry to jubilant. The people arrayed behind the desk looked at each other happily. Kupchak’s formerly lifeless face was replaced with a wide smile and bright eyes. He tentatively spoke.
“Kobe? Kobe? Kobe! Kobe! Kobe!”
Soon he was joined in his chant by the others, many of whom were crying.
“KO-BE! KO-BE! KO-BE! KO-BE! KO-BE!”