I semi-regularly have dreams where I’m playing basketball. Rarely do these dreams have good outcomes, however. Usually, I’ll be trying to dribble the ball but my coordination is horrible and I keep turning it over, or I’ll be trying to dribble but the ball is too heavy and doesn’t bounce, or I’ll be trying to shoot but the ball is too heavy and it doesn’t even get close to the rim. Sometimes these will be pickup games against randoms. Sometimes I’ll be in a gym by myself. Sometimes, miraculously, I’ll be playing in the NBA and feeling the scrutiny of my teammates as I screw up repeatedly, all the while thinking to myself, “I’m better than this! Really! I can really play this game!” I don’t think I’ve ever even dunked in a dream, and that’s just totally unfair. I’ve definitely dreamed that I was going up for a dunk but my legs didn’t work and I didn’t even get close to the rim.
Whatever basketball-anxiety-related dreams I have, Markelle Fultz must have them ten times worse. With the amount of eyes on him and judging him, the pressure to live up to predraft expectations is a lot higher than the pressure I feel not to brick shots in a pickup game (not that I’m the worst offender out there in the park – my jumper is way purer than all those unskilled bricklayers). His dreams must be a nightmarish whirlwind of injuries, missed shots, mom’s boyfriends trying crazy methods to “fix” his jumpshot form, angry teammates, disappointed fans, a giant demon named “Thoracic Outlet Syndrome” chasing him through a hospital, and possibly even the ghosts of former NBA players haunting him in extremely spooky ways. Just because Markelle is a wealthy, popular NBA player doesn’t somehow give his psyche a pass to not torment him with weird dreams.
I wonder if NBA players also have dreams where they’re eating a gigantic ice cream sundae but they can barely chew it, and then when they wake up their pillow is absolutely covered in puddles of drool?