As the team walked into the locker room, the mood of the Sacramento Kings was one of disappointment. To come so close to beating the Warriors, the defending champs and still one of the best teams in the NBA, was heartbreaking. Justin Jackson trudged to his locker, wishing dearly for the laughing and chatting which followed a win, rather than the subdued silence which followed a loss. A few teammates patted him on the back and congratulated him on his good game, but the congratulations felt unimportant with the loss still so fresh in his memory.
Justin flumped into the comfy swivel chair that was in front of his locker. However, has soon as he sat, he felt something poke his rear end, so he stood back up again to see what he had sat on. It was a small package wrapped crudely in shiny wrapping paper. Thinking that maybe a teammate or arena employee had gotten him a late Christmas present, he took it in his hands and then sat back down to open it. If his teammates noticed the surprise package, they didn’t say anything or come over to investigate.
Within the wrapping paper was a box that once held breath mints. However, rattling the box didn’t make a noise, so something other than mints was inside. Curiosity now wiping away his sadness at the outcome of the game, he swung the tin open on its hinge.
It was a large marijuana cigarette. Laughing at the strange thoughtfulness of the gift, he took it in between his fingers. He was no weed expert, but it seemed like a very fine spliff indeed. There was a small note still in the tin, which Justin picked up and read.
“With that kind of shooting, you could be me one day. Enjoy, dude. -Klay”
A sudden movement in the ceiling caught Justin’s eye. His gaze flitted up to the ceiling tiles above him. There, one of the grated vents had been dispplaced, and he thought he glimpsed a familiar goatee in the opening, accompanied by a wide smile and a handwave. Then, it was gone, and Justin wondered if it had ever been there at all.