Seth Curry has been shooting comfortably above 40% on three-pointers each of the past three seasons. However, this season, he’s only shooting 39.5% on threes. Somewhere, his brother is sobbing silently.
Since I am obsessed with the 40% mark being the differentiator between a “good” shooter and a “great” shooter, I am now regretfully obligated to consider Curry to be merely a “good” shooter until this situation rectifies itself. Every day I beseech any and all higher powers to allow Curry to raise his percentage by that fraction of a percent so that Curry regains his “great shooter” status.
I’m currently feeling stabbing pains in my chest which I assume to be my soul crying out for Curry to be a more accurate three-point shooter. The pain is kind of radiating out from my chest and down my arms, but it’s definitely not a heart attack. Somebody young like me can’t have a heart attack even if their diet consists solely of Hot Pockets, Pop-Tarts, and Sausage McMuffies from McDonalds. The pain I feel is definitely the pain of my soul being tormented by the piercing blades of Curry’s slightly-lower-than-expected shooting percentages.
I have instructed Japurri not to call 911 under any circumstances and I am now instructing my subscribers similarly. Please refrain from alerting emergency personnel about my situation. I don’t want the cute Latina who lives above me to think I’m some kind of wimp who needs medical attention and ambulance rides.