It was summertime in Phoenix. Archie Goodwin was, somewhat understandably, not participating in the usual activities of the season. For one thing, it was too hot, and for another, he was lost in thought.
He sat facing his TV, but it wasn’t turned on, and hadn’t been since the end of the season. If he were to ever check his phone, he would find it inundated with unread messages, dating back to April 17th. A fine layer of dust had begun to accumulate on his possessions, as Archie sat unnaturally straight on the sofa for the 74th consecutive day.
“I gave them 20 points! Plus! Me. I did. 20 points plus for Archie Goodwin at the end of the season.”
These thoughts, or slight variations thereof, had been buzzing in his mind since that night when he scored a career-high 29 in the season finale.
“I’m feeling good! I gave them 20 points at the end of the season. Archie Goodwin. Feeling good. 20 points plus! For me, Archie Goodwin.”
“At the end of the season, Archie Goodwin. 20. Plus. Archie. Points. Feeling good, 20 points plus? Archie Goodwin? I’m Archie Goodwin!”