Meyers Leonard sat down next to Gerald Henderson’s locker. “Hey Gerald,” he greeted wearily.
Gerald, who was used to Meyers being perkier when talking with his teammtes, could tell something was amiss. “Something on your mind, man?”
“Neil really liked LaMarcus, didn’t he?” Meyers asked rhetorically, referring to Blazers GM Neil Olshey.
“I think I heard some of the guys talking about it,” Gerald replied. “Is he telling you to play more like LaMarcus? Did you try telling him that you’re your own player?”
Sighing, Meyers responded, “You can’t tell that to the GM. Especially when his relationship with that player might have gone a little further than what’s expected in the NBA.”
Gerald raised his eyebrows at that. All of a sudden he was getting mental imagery that he would rather not see. “Oh. Well, we all like different things, I guess.”
“Well, whatever you like, it can’t be as weird as the stuff that Neil likes,” Meyers said bitterly. “I think I’m just going to block him from sending me texts. He can’t trade me for that.”
With that cryptic statement, Meyers got up from his seat and exited the locker room, leaving Gerald by himself.
After taking a look around to make sure he was alone, Gerald took out his wallet. Tucked way in the back, behind a variety of ID’s and credit cards, was a very special picture he kept for when he was feeling down. Now, he took it out. It was worn around the edges, but it was still the perfect depiction of its subject.
“I’m sure Meyers would think we’re weird too,” Gerald murmured to the empty locker room. He brought the picture of Kobe Bryant up to his lips and kissed it lightly. “I love you, Kobe.”