“Hey guys, look! It’s snowing! Hahaha, it’s snowing!!!” Mike Scott yelled gleefully, interrupting practice to run to the window of the practice gym. With his face smahed up against the glass, he exclaimed, “Snow in Atlanta! I’m gonna go play in it!”
Coach Budenholzer put his hands on his hips. “Mike, practice will end in forty minutes, and then you can play in the snow all you want.”
Mike wasn’t listening. He was already out the door, down the hallway and into the half-inch of freshly-fallen powder. “Bitchin!” he yelled as he dropped down to his knees, picking up two handfuls of snow and rubbing them on his face. “Man, I missed doing this!”
As his teammates watched bemusedly from the warmth and comfort of the gym, Mike rolled around on the cold ground, coating his entire body in the fluffy white precipitation. “The stinging snowflakes feel so good upon my muscled, hot body!” he announced to the world.
Elton Brand had walked out to where Mike was writhing in the snow. “Coach says that if you don’t get back in the next minute, he’s going to suspend you.”
“Don’t care,” Mike responded simply, continuing to flail his limbs. “Do you realize how rare of an occurrence this is? The more time I’m suspended, the more time I get to enjoy the majesty of winter.”
Elton shrugged his shoulders. “Fine. I’ll tell coach you wanna be suspended for a week,” he said before walking back to the gym.
“Yippee!” Mike yelled, throwing handfuls of snow back into the air. He grinned goofily as snow hit him in the face and eyes. “Winter is the best!”