Al-Farouq Aminu was on his way to the locker room when a voice issued forth from a dumpster. “Psst, Al-Farouq! Get in here!”
Startled, Al-Farouq looked into the bin to find Anthony Davis huddled in the bottom. “Man, I don’t know if we’re both going to fit in there. You look kinda cramped already,” Al-Farouq replied uncertainly.
“It’s surprisingly roomy, actually. Now hurry up, I got some important stuff to chat about,” Anthony responded, pushing aside some garbage to create more room in the trash receptacle. Al-Farouq shrugged and climbed in. There was enough room, barely.
“Okay, Al-Farouq. Listen up. You know our draft pick this year is top-five-protected, right?”
Having never been a GM or even an avid NBA fan, Al-Farouq didn’t understand anything about that fancy stuff. “I don’t know what that means. Tell me what that means.”
“It means that if our pick lands in the top five lottery slots, we get to keep it instead of giving it to the 76ers.” Anthony explained. “That means we gotta suck really bad if we wanna catch up to the teams below us in the standings. I don’t know if you pay much attention, but there’s a lot of teams that are worse than us.”
“I don’t know, man. That sounds like tanking,” Al-Farouq said uneasily. “We play hard every game.”
“It’s not tanking if I tell the coaches that I’m not feeling well.”
Al-Farouq scowled. “But you feel just fine. Fine enough to chill out in a dumpster with a bunch of trash.”
“This is the only way, Al-Farouq, can’t you see? Our current talent doesn’t work well together. We need that additional piece to push us over the top, and due to the Pelicans’ salary situation, the only place we’re gonna get that piece is in the draft. We need that pick.” Anthony grabbed Al-Farouq’s shoulders to emphasize his point. “We need that pick.”
“So, what, I just tell coach that you’re puking your guts out and can’t play?” Al-Farouq asked.
“I’ll tell the coaches that I caught some kind of stomach bug. I faked sick from school all the time, it’s not that hard. You just gotta vouch for me, okay?”
Al-Farouq sighed. “Fine. But I don’t like it. Not one bit.”
Standing up and wiping away the banana peels affixed to his legs, Anthony reassured, “Remember the words of commissioner Silver. It’s not tanking, it’s rebuilding.”