Standing with his teammates in the huddle, Taj Gibson knew he should be listening to his coach. Normally he was attentive during timeouts, but this timeout was different.
Before the game, Taj had used his status as an NBA player to covertly meet one-on-one with the Madison Square Garden employee who was in charge of operating the Jumbotron. The man had been reluctant to deviate from established Jumbotron protocol in order to show video content of Taj’s choosing, but a stack of bills totaling fifty thousand dollars had eventually convinced him. Now, it was the first timeout of the third quarter, and at any time, Taj’s message would start playing for the entire arena to see and hear.
Taj had recorded himself reading a poem. A poem to Brianna, the Timberwolves dance team member who he was in love with. For the visual, he had cropped her face out of her official roster picture and surrounded it with tulips (her favorite) and hearts. While she wouldn’t be there in New York to witness it in person, it was certain that news of Taj’s love for her would quickly reach her.
Suddenly, the Jumbotron, which had been showing the “dance cam”, cut to black. There was a murmur of surprise from the crowd, but otherwise not much reaction. Taj’s heart started beating faster in his chest. Soon, the first stanzas of his poem (“Like an ever-flowing stream so pure/You are the woman of my dreams so sure”) would be read for the world to hear.
But what showed up on the Jumbotron was not what Taj expected at all. Not in the least.
There was an indistinct shot of what seemed to be a bedroom wall. Taj stared in confusion at it, wondering if the guy controlling the Jumbotron had picked the wrong video clip. Then, the camera panned away from the wall and to a bed. On the bed was a fully naked Karl-Anthony Towns, apparently in sexual congress with a woman who was also fully naked. She was face-down and her face was buried in a pillow, but there was no mistaking her.
It was Brianna.
There were shrieks from the crowd as mothers tried to cover their children’s eyes from the lewd scene being played for the whole arena to see. There was also some whooping from men in attendance, pleased as they were to be afforded the chance to view pornography and basketball at the same time. Taj heard none of this. He could only stare at the screen with repulsion and burning humiliation. The sight of a naked Brianna did nothing for him. Not when it was presented like this.
Karl-Anthony turned to address the camera with a happy wave and a smile. “Hey Taj! Just wanted to tell you, your poems suck!” he said without breaking the rhythm of his thrusts. His words were undercut by whimpers from his partner. “See you at practice, man!”
Taj could feel the eyes of not only his teammates, but the entire arena on him. But he couldn’t just escape or run away. There was a game to play. So when the video cut off after another agonizing twenty seconds and was replaced with normal Jumbotron content, he tried to pretend that nothing was wrong.
But Brianna’s whimpers, moaned at the hand of another man, continued to ring in his ears, and it was hard to stay focused on the game when tears were pooling in his eyes.