Marcus Thornton 21 Points Full Highlights (12/7/2014)

Marcus Thornton walked into his coach’s office, and sat down for his one-on-one with Brad Stevens.

“I know this is a little more formal than our usual interactions, but there are some things I really want to talk to you about, away from the curious ears of your teammates.” He began, looking stern.

“Is this about my lack of minutes? Because I really feel like I could use some more minutes.” Thornton said as he rummaged in his pockets.

“Your playing time is tangentially related to the topic, yes. Marcus, I’m really concerned about… what are you doing?”

Marcus had extricated from his pants pocket a large quantity of nearly-frozen jalapeno poppers, complete with a few cups of nacho-cheese dipping sauce, and was munching happily on them. “You know, just thought I’d have a little snack. Those concessions ladies said I could have ’em for free, seeing as I’m technically an employee and all. They’re just as good uncooked, really. Want some?” He responded, his speech garbled by the breaded peppers that were entering his mouth at an alarming rate.

“No thanks. But this is exactly what I’m talking about. Your weight is becoming a concern for us, Marcus. If you can’t keep at a playing weight we have no choice but to not play you. We have registered dieticians waiting to assist you… excuse me!” Stevens banged his fist on his desk, trying to regain his player’s attention, which had now been lost entirely.

Marcus had finished his jalapeno poppers and moved on to the spare donuts he kept with him at all times. His eyes were closed and his sciurine face reflected a state of nirvana as he carefully deposited each donut, whole, into his mouth.

“Marcus? Are you there?”

Marcus opened one eye and peered at his coach. “I don’t see what the problem is here. Physical fitness is my highest priority. So what if I like to snack sometimes? You should see the garbage Jared throws down his maw. Yet he gets all the minutes in the world, and more!”

“I think we’re done here, Marcus. Just keep what I’ve said in mind. And I’m going to tell the concessions workers not to give you any more free food, cooked or not.”

The levity of this statement did not seem to register with Marcus. “Does the mean I get more minutes now?”


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