Damian Lillard was packing up all his personal items from his locker at the Moda Center when he was interrupted by a familiar voice from behind him. “Dame, can you help me out for a second?”
Annoyed that he was probably going to lose an hour out of his afternoon, Damian rolled his eyes before turning around to face Blazers GM Neil Olshey. “Yeah, no problem. What’s up?”
Neil looked slightly concerned. “I’ve been looking around for LaMarcus, but I can’t seem to find him anywhere. He always sticks around in the off-season to work with the staff, but I haven’t seen him for days now.”
“Just a few days? Are you sure it hasn’t been more like, you know, an entire year?” Damian asked. He had heard from his teammates about Neil’s odd preoccupation with the departed power forward, and knew that Neil sometimes got into weird moods when thinking about the subject.
“No, he played for us this year, I’m sure of it. I have his contract right here. The one that he signed after he turned down all those offers from other teams.” Neil brought out a stack of papers from his pants pocket, unfolded them, and showed them to Damian. “See? His signature is right here. That means he’s still in Portland somewhere and you have to help me find him.”
Damian looked at the alleged contract. The document looked official, but LaMarcus’ purported signature was signed in cursive script identical to where Neil had signed his own name. It didn’t matter, though, because LaMarcus was playing for the Spurs, no matter what paperwork Neil possessed that stated otherwise. “I really don’t think LaMarcus is around, Neil. And I don’t think I can help you find him.”
“But you guys are such good friends, you probably know where he is,” Neil replied. Then, his gaze become unfocused, and his next words didn’t seem to be directed towards anybody in particular. “He was my good friend, too…I always gave him exactly what he wanted…as rough as he wanted it…”
Damian didn’t know what to make of this comment, and he had the strong feeling that he didn’t want to know. “Yeah, well, I still text him sometimes, but he’s in San Antonio know so it’s not like we’re hanging out all the time,” he explained, before realizing that he had just said too much.
“San Antonio?” Neil echoed, snapping out of his reverie. “What would he be doing in San Antonio? He has no connection to the Spurs as far as I know.”
“Forget San Antonio. I misspoke. I have no idea where he is,” Damian said quickly.
Neil grabbed Damian by the shoulders and stared directly into his eyes. “Come with me to San Antonio. You have to help me find LaMarcus.”
Damian hesitated. “Umm…”
“I could void your contract right now,” Neil threatened, a shadow darkening his eyes. “You will help me find my sla-, I mean, find LaMarcus.”
—
Damian sat in the passenger seat of Neil’s car, trying to tune out the lunatic mumblings of the driver. “LaMarcus Aldridge. Have to find him. Punish him. Shouldn’t leave me. Tie him up. Tie him up. Tie him up. San Antonio. LaMarcus.”
“You know,” Damian interrupted. “I think I heard something that LaMarcus might have signed a contract to play with the Spurs this last season.” He tried to keep his voice calm and gentle even while stating the plain facts that Neil had somehow managed to either ignore or misconstrue. “I don’t think he ever played for us this year.”
The car screeched to a halt as Neil slammed on the breaks in the middle of the Wyoming freeway. “What are you doing!?” Damian yelled as cars whizzed by them on either side, horns blaring.
“LaMarcus left Portland? He left ME?” Neil asked in disbelief, oblivious to the very real danger they were in. “But I have the contract right here with me.”
“Dude, if you’re gonna stop, you gotta get out the flow of traffic!” Damian yelled, reaching for the steering wheel even if it was useless without access to the pedals. Meanwhile, Neil had again retrieved the “signed” contract from his pocket. He was silent for a while as he contemplated the document; Damian reached over and turned on the car’s emergency flashers.
Eventually, Neil spoke. “I have to tell the NBA about this. You can’t just renege on a signed contract like this. But I don’t want to hurt LaMarcus’ standing in the league! My lovely LaMarcus. The heart and brain are often in conflict, and never more so than right at this very moment.”
“Neil, you gotta keep driving. Drive to San Antonio. We’ll find LaMarcus and straighten the whole thing out,” Damian pleaded. “It was probably just a misunderstanding.” Even in his distress, Damian couldn’t help but note that the only person doing any misunderstanding was Neil.
Damian let out a sigh of relief when Neil put the car back into drive and began moving down the road again. However, Neil’s unhinged ramblings quickly started back up again, and Damian wondered if even seeing LaMarcus in person would bring any relief to this insane man.