When I was watching this game, it almost felt like Derrick Williams was playing up to the potential that he seemed to show in college. It was the most glorious feeling ever. For once in my life, I was overcome not by negative emotions like hate and anger, but instead, by happiness and optimism.
For a scant few minutes, I had almost convinced myself that Derrick Williams was not a bust, but not only that, I was beginning to think that he could maybe make an all-star game. For a person like myself, who dwells on the things that basketball players do poorly, it was as if my neurons were staging an uprising to rewire my brain. The perpetual scowl upon my lips slowly curled itself upward, forming into a smile, a facial expression I am wholly unaccustomed to.
Then I was done making the highlights, and the whole grand illusion shattered into a thousand razor-sharp pieces. Derrick Williams still has no outside game to speak of. He still doesn’t have a position on the court. He still isn’t a great passer. He still hasn’t lived up to his draft position.
An ache seems to have worked its way into my muscles, and even deeper, into my bones as well. This always happens when I get even a little bit excited for a player. That should teach me for trying to enjoy basketball. How foolish I have been.