It’s a double crossover dumbass, you can put it between the legs not bounce it off your ankles.

Larry walked on, this training session of boys from the hood was not going well.  He had been left in the lurch by PaulGeorge so had to do this on his own.  Even his good friend JaVale had baled on him.

Drive to the hoop Michael, work on that hangtime…then you’ll get the dunk right.

This kid Michael was pretty good, Larry could teach him all he knew to make him better but he had some serious skills although there was certainly more hope than expectation in his words of encouragement.

We’ll get you a sneaker contract yet boy.

Larry was the whitest white man half these project kids had seen so he had a bit of trouble relating which is where Paul was going to come in handy but no…Limestone Larry was here.  Mr Pasty, from rural Indiana, to Boston and when they shut down the Boston franchise he was shuffled off to Las Vegas.  Encouraged by MariaReynolds to bring some basketball flair to otherwise humdrum lives.

So here was a legend of the game trying to teach these kids how to excel.  Two guys were working on free throws.

Keep your eyes focussed on a point and just do the same thing again and again.  You’ll get it.

One of them was from the O’Neal School of Free Throws, the other from the McGee Finishing School.  Both tall, skinny dudes who looked like they could dominate but couldn’t throw a free throw to save their lives.  Larry liked the look of the kid from McGee.  He’ll have been taught well by JaVale he thought...except the free throws.

The long legs and short skirt of everyone’s favourite waitress swooshed down the gym stairs.  Tammy was bringing juice and cookies to all the kids and a coffee for Larry.  She didn’t say anything, just put it down and walked away.  There wasn’t really anything to be said and nothing really to see, the sound of basketballs being dribbled reverberated around the room and Larry trying to coach some sort of silk purse from these particular sow’s ears.

How had Larry got sucked into a life of crime?

Tammy had shaped her blackberry muffin's tops into a sphere; with fitted white glazing that Ray_Keech had provided on top; in the form of the seams of a basketball. They looked yummy. She was watching how Larry_Bird was trying to motivate Jordan as she held a tray full of baking goodness. The guy kept making handballs. Tammy did not truely understand. Maybe she'd ask the team doctor, Mr Erving, later to explain about the rules.

She put down the tray. Juice for the boys; coffee for the legend himself.
She really appreciated how the impressive Larry_Bird took his time with these youngsters. Placing the tray on the bench, where all players came off from, she winked at Larry_Bird before she stood up and left.

Larry sat on a bench at the side of the court shouting instructions to the kids

Hustle!

Watch the double team!

He put his head in his hands as they committed yet another turnover.  He sighed, if it wasn’t for the support of the sports loving MariaReynolds he would have given this up and returned to beating the Lakers.  He glanced up as a shadowy figure loomed large.  It was the renowned sports heckler Homer Simpson.

Nobody likes the Celtics Larry

Larry sighed, thinking to himself these haters are gonna hate.

Don’t play to be liked Homer.  I play to win.

Magic’s better than you Larry.

He’s better looking than me, I’ll give you that.

But the Lakers are more exciting than you guys.

He put his head back in his hands

Exciting is not effective Homer, now if you’ll excuse me I have a game to watch.

The kids had started to come back; young Jordan was running the game drawing fouls and freeing up people getting them involved.  The kid from McGee was all elbows and knees, when he started running it was like his limbs took a second or two to get themselves in order but he was effective while appearing a little simple.

Lulls them into a false sense of superiority his friend PaulGeorge had said, he wasn’t wrong.  Paul knew a player and had correctly identified this one as far superior to his own not-insignificant skill level.

Tammy came wandering over, spilling some coffee over Homer.

I heard what you said Mr Homer, you don’t come down here talking that nonsense in our hall.  Everyone here's a Celtics fan and if they weren’t, they are now.

Tammy came back in, looked around the court and said

I heard what you said, Mr Homer.. You don’t come down here talking that nonsense in our hall!  Everyone here's a Celtics fan and if they weren’t, they are now.

Loki leaves flattened balls for Larry to shoot.

Homer was shooting some hoops, when Tammy rudely spilt coffee over him. So he had to take of his sweater, underneath was a brand spanking new bright yellow Lakers jersey, with the number 34 'Johnson' written on the back. 

Now gimme the ball, I'll show you what Showtime really is Larry_Bird 

Homer takes the ball, and pulls up some mid rangers before doing some euro step layups. This was truly some sort of magic. 

Madison Square Garden loomed large in front of Larry.  He was here to do his duties as a bona fide superstar and legend to the good folks of New York.  Folks round here knew talent when it hit them between the eyes and that’s what was happening…unable to catch the ball some kids were letting it go right through their hands and smack them in the stomach or in the face.

Here kid, hands closer together.  Watch it come in and cushion it.

The kid who had introduced himself as Patrick was big built but when he tried to catch the ball it just bounced off him.  Like a wall.  There were some new kids on the block, hanging tough, so they were invited to play.  Strolling down from Brooklyn with a swagger they took up against the rest.  Larry joined in on, starting off on the side of the old boys in the hood planning to help the other guys and gals out at half time.  He wasn’t going to shoot, just help show them how to make space and pick a pass.

Larry got the ball with his back to the hoop and shielded the ball for a second.  Before he could spot a runner there was a sharp pain in his back.  Elbows like knives were being pummelled into him from one hustler like he was being stabbed in the back.  Maybe he would just take a shot.  He turned to face the kid

You got hair like a girl, son

Bang.  He drained a twelve foot shot on him/her.

Getting the ball again in the low post he felt the familiar sting of knifey elbows.  Sod this.  Larry turned and held the ball out in front of him with one hand…taunting him/her.  As he/she went to grab the ball, Larry passed the ball to Patrick who somehow managed to hold onto the ball this time and leapt up dunking the ball in majestic fashion over the boy/girl.

Tammy had appeared on the sideline

They’re kids Larry, don’t be mean.

Larry wandered over and sat down, throwing his top to one of the other kids.

Watch your back with them kid, can’t be trusted and will foul you all day long if they think they’ll get away with it.  Just like the jerks from Detroit.  You guys are the knickerbockers of New York, you can call them Perfidious of Prospect Park if you want.

Larry sat at a press conference.  In front of him were the distinguished members of the press.  The Boston Globe had sent their intrepid sports reporter, MariaReynolds to the event.  He fielded questions about his hopes and aspirations for the Las Vegas franchise.  

I’m not saying we can win championships while I’m here but we can certainly compete.  We’ve a great set of starters and when you can draw on the likes of Tammy to provide refreshment then you know your bench is deep.

There’s talk of your grudge with LA being a thing this year.  What are your thoughts?

There’s always talk of my grudges; LA because of Magic, Detroit because of the Pistons all these guys but in truth I know if we give 100% things always work out in the end.

The microphone was handed to MariaReynolds.

We’ve heard leaked plans of a theme park in your honour being drafted.  Can you tell us any more about that?

You mean Birdland?  

Larry laughed

I think someone is pulling your leg Maria.  The architect quoted, what was his name? JosephWright?  He was looking for a name for somewhere and I jokingly said Birdland.  I think he ended up going with Kinkyland or that.  But wouldn’t that be cool, a set of attractions all built around me and my likeness.

Maria muttered under her breath

Oh Magic.

CLANG

JaVale was trying the PaulGeorge approach to slam dunking, actually putting the ball through the hoop instead of off the rim but he just couldn’t get what was going on.  He’d been handed the keys to Legends Court, the gym that Larry had built.  

The kids he had inherited were starting to come together as a unit and it didn’t really look like his help was needed.  There was the cocky kid who kept showboating all the time, trying to win every match by taking all the shots.  He never remembered his name, something Japanesey…Wagyu or Kobe or something.  JaVale would call him Sushi.  He would need his wings clipped.  Clipped by a clipper, Paul would know who to get.

Then there was the other kid, raining threes on everyone like a know it all show off  Stefanie or something lame like that.  What’s the point in that JaVale thought.  It’s a team game.  You needed to put everything through the tall guy so he could play killer passes off the backboard to himself and others; bounce the ball through the big bandy gap between his legs.

“You’ll never get a job catching pigs son” his first coach would bellow at him.  JaVale would show him for sure.  Here he was, top of the tree.  A CHAM-PEE-ON and not some two bit hustler playing doubles in the streets for chump change.

If only he could just get that dunk right.

JaVale sat on the sidewalk after running like a gangly cartoon character away from his most recent victim.  Once again he’d managed to shaft a schlub for what must have been the hundred and fiftieth time and he was feeling proud of himself.  His good friend Paul ambled up beside him.

What’s happening JaVale, you been out training or something?  You look out of breath.

He took a look down at JaVale, he wasn’t going to be the sort of person to blend in with a crowd.  His mop of hair, bunched at the bottom by a head band made him look like a pineapple but it was his 7ft size that really made him conspicuous.  Dressed in a mobster’s black suit it didn’t look like training gear.

Nah man, I’ve been busy shafting schlubs again.  I must be in hall of fame contention for my skills at that.

Paul sighed.

You really are a lanky re…

He stopped himself before he really insulted JaVale

...I genuinely don’t think I can talk to someone as stupid as you.  What are you doing still doing that?  You don’t get to the hall of fame doing that.  You move onwards and upwards, maybe do it a hundred maybe a hundred and twenty five times but you shouldn’t still be doing that today.  Stop actin’ the fool, get over there, get into that store and get extorting him.  What a plum.

Paul walked off laughing at JaVale’s idiocy.

Percival Rosenburg of the law firm Rosenburg, Rozenburg and Rosenberg walked up to JaVale and handed him a letter

You have been served Mr McGee

JaVale opened up the letter

NOTICE TO CEASE AND DESIST

MariaReynolds
Nevada

Date October 2 1933

Re: Notice to Cease and Desist for Specific Activity

 
Dear Mr McGee,

This letter is served upon due to Mr JaVale McGee purposefully refers to our client in the course of his coffee shop reviews causing her much annoyance and anguish. (“Activity”).   

If you do not cease the aforementioned Activity a lawsuit will be commenced against you. 

If the Activity continues we will immediately seek a temporary restraining order in the District Court against you and any accomplices in this matter. We will also seek monetary damages to be proved at trial. Hopefully this recourse is not necessary, we have our own interests to protect and will vigorously do so.   

You will not receive another warning letter. If you do not confirm in writing to us by October 9 1933 that you will cease violating our Agreement a lawsuit will be commenced immediately.

Signed

Percival Rosenburg

Shit was getting serious for the coffee shop reviews, maybe he should stick to basketball classes.