Watching Brandon Jennings pass the ball to Ersan Ilyasova for a three pointer brought back memories I thought permanently repressed. Years of Bucks fandom, rushing back into my mind like a river bursting through a dam. Images of Andrew Bogut, the screams of him mangling his arm, remembrances of drafting Joe Alexander, an apparition of Herb Kohl smiling senilely above me, all these things and more invaded my brain and broke my sanity.
I’m not gonna lie, I was out of commission for like 30 minutes after that, before finding myself splayed on the floor in a pool of Cherry-Lime Sundrop, with my cat, Japurri, sitting on my stomach and licking his butthole. When you’ve suffered traumatic events like I have, the last thing you want is a trigger to appear without warning. Bucks fan PTSD is a real thing, folks, and it’s no joke.