Staring at my computer screen with annoyance, I pick up my phone and hit the first number on my speed dial list. When the call is answered after just two rings, I don’t even allow the answerer to give his customary greeting. “Sup Adam,” I interrupt. “You probably know why I’m calling.”
There’s a sigh from Adam Silver’s end of the phone. “Some menial highlight video request, probably.”
I don’t appreciate Adam’s attitude. He knows as well as I do that I own him. He is my lackey. He is my bitch. “Right in one, my friend. I’ve got a Treveon Graham video cooking here, but I’m sitting at 57 seconds runtime and I’ve exhausted all the footage that was provided in the broadcast, so…”
“Listen DTB, I’m not going to waste my time tracking down a replay of this Graham guy making a three-pointer or whatever just to make your stupid highlight video better,” Adam replies.
I chuckle ironically. “No, no, no. You don’t understand. My videos have to be a minute long. I have standards, unlike the clowns who upload to the official NBA channel.”
“The answer’s still no,” Adam says, displaying more of a backbone than he ever has before. “Nobody will watch your dumb video anyway.”
“That might be true, but-” I start, before the phonecall is cut off by Adam hanging up. I look at my phone in disbelief for a second, then set it down and return to my work. Not wanting any more delays, I come to terms with the fact that this Treveon Graham video will be less than a minute in length, but I file this incident away in mind, knowing next time not to be lenient with my underling.