“Hey Glenn! Hey!”
Glenn Robinson, on his way to his car after a morning practice, turned around to find Paul George addressing him. “I already told you, man, I’m not a rookie, so if you want me to carry your bags out to your car, it’s not happening.”
Paul rolled his eyes. “Duh. I know that. I got Joe to put the dress on, remember?”
Glenn did remember. He now tried, and succeeded, to repress the memories of his own rookie hazing experiences in Minnesota. With that hurdle cleared, Glenn responded, “so what do you want?”
“I guess I should be taking you under my wing and mentoring you and stuff,” Paul said, not looking entirely convinced by the idea.
Laughing, Glenn replied, “Coach told you to do this, didn’t he?”
“Yeah,” Paul admitted. “Now I have to give you advice, I guess. Listen up. Just don’t even think about Indiana girls. Just don’t even think about them. Anywhere else, Michigan, Illinois, Russia, I don’t care. Just forget about girls from Indiana. That’s my advice to you.”
“Oh,” said Glenn. “I thought you were going to give me some tips on sticking in the NBA, or improving my game, or something.”
Paul looked like he wanted to leave more than anything. “Yeah, well, maybe I can do that later. But for now, just remember. No Indiana girls,” he reiterated.
“Not even the cute ones?” Glenn asked.
“No Indiana girls.”