Nicolas Batum 17 Points/5 Threes Full Highlights (12/28/2014)

Victor Claver sat near the wall of the training facility, staring intently at the basketball in his hands. Nic Batum, on his way to the fridge full of Gatorade, noticed his Spanish teammate’s focused demeanor. “Hey, Vic, getting in the zone for tonight’s game?”

Victor looked up, startled, as if he had been awoken from a dream. “Oh, no, not like that. I am just wondering what happens when I put basketball in microwave.”

For some reason, this idea struck Nic as incredibly funny, and he laughed conspiratorially. “That, my Spanish friend, is a good question. There’s some microwaves by the Gatorade fridge that we can use.”

Returning his gaze to the basketball, Victor responded uneasily, “I’m not sure. You think the coaches get mad?”

“People use those microwaves all the time, Vic,” Nic reassured. “Anyway, nobody’s here right now, we showed up too early.”

“I don’t know, Nic. It was just idea. What if bad things happens?”

Nic grabbed the basketball out of Victor’s hands. “Nothing bad will happen. Come on, this is gonna be so sweet.”
“How long do you think we put it in?”

Nic pondered the question for a moment, scrunching up his face in thought. “Ten minutes should be enough.”

“TEN MINUTE?! I am thinking thirty seconds maximum.”

Shaking his head at his teammate’s fearfulness, Nic chastised, “Don’t be such a pussy, Vic. If we’re going to conduct a serious scientific experiment on the effects of microwave radiation on a basketball, it needs to be for more than thirty seconds.”

“Fine,” Vic responded testily, punching in a one followed by three zeros on the microwave’s timer. “Put it in.”

Nic opened the microwave door and place the basketball inside. It was a snug fit, meaning the ball wouldn’t rotate while it was cooking. The door barely would close again; Nic had to slam it shut. “Okay. Ready?”


Pushing the “start” button, the light in the microwave turned on and it began to buzz. The two Europeans watched with interest as the ball quickly began to deform.

“Man, it stinks,” Victor said with a laugh. “And it’s only been in for five minute!”

“I bet it’s gonna explode,” Nic enthused. “Sick.”

A few more minutes passed. Just as the timer was about to elapse, the basketball began to change form very rapidly. “Oh man, it’s getting all warped and stuff,” Nic observed, both of them pressing their faces against the glass.

Suddenly, the lights above them flickered. Looking at each other with unease, their attention was immediately directed back to the microwave as it began to emit sparks. The timer reverted to 0:00, but it continued to buzz as if it were still operating. Inside the glass, the basketball seemed to be moving of its own volition, shaking and lurching inside the confines of the chamber.

“Bon Dieu de merde,” Nic whispered, watching with fascination and horror.

A few dark spots became visible on the ball’s orange exterior. They became more and more defined until it was clear that there was a many-toothed mouth and two glowing eyes. Limb-like protrusions started to grow, and the plastic of the appliance began to creak, groan, and finally, crack.

Backing away from the microwave, Victor whimpered, “I warned you something bad would happens.”

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