Zach Collins walked up to his locker and immediately noticed the piece of paper which was taped to its side. The paper appeared to be a handwritten note of some kind. He gently pulled it off his locker and began to read:
“Dear Zach Collins,
This is letter from team management. We appreciating the hard work you do on the court and are very excite for future of Trail Blazers franchise. However, it is our recommend that you do not score so many points in games anymore. Since you are rookie, not is your job to score, is job to sit bench and support teammates who play.
When you playing too good, you hurt careers of other players at center position who are better at basketball and having more skill. These players have earning minutes that you, as rookie player, have not earning. Especially when some centers on team not have such beautyfull and gracefull jumpshots form, instead are more effectiveness inside, but coaches maybe get distracted by aesthetic quality of rookie.
Please stopping to play so good, it is not fair to others.
With sincerity,
-Neil Olshey and Trail Blazers management office”
Zach read it once, then read it again to make sure he had understood it correctly. The garbled English syntax confused him. Everything he had previously received from the front office had been written in boring, formal, but perfectly coherent words. This was clearly the work of somebody else.
“Hey, does anybody know who left this note on my locker?” he called out to the rest of his teammates, who were getting undressed after the game.
“I don’t know why everybody accusing me all the time!” Jusuf Nurkic exclaimed. “I do nothing! I loving Zach!” He quickly pulled on his hoodie, grabbed his bag, and walked towards the locker room exit.
With a shrug of the shoulders, Zach balled up the note and threw it in the trash.