#did y’all just watch me turn up on nba tv?

[chet-ho7mgren]

JDub and JWill did an ig live earlier, and Chet got on for just a few minutes, but the whole thing was gold (also feat. former Thunder legend Darius Bazley) 💙💙

[romanreignseater]

A Phone Call Away.

Roman Reigns x Black Female Reader

Rating: 18+

Warning: Smut; oral (female receiving)

“Now that Roman is on a hiatus from the ring, you would think that would stop the busy nature of this man… but boy were you wrong.”

A/N: Is your girl back or WHATTTT?!??! Heyyyy y’all, I missed you guys so much and I missed writing for you guys. Thanks to all of those who checked up on me (I promise those messages didn’t go unseen). I truly appreciate all the love still shown on my stories but I am back and better than ever. School has been really tough for me and I nearly dropped out, but BITCH I pulled through. I’m moving onto my junior year this fall and I couldn’t be happier. To express my happiness, I wrote this about the ONLY Tribal Chief. Mr. Roman Reigns. Hope you enjoy 😘😘😘!!

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GIF: @rashyford

Roman Reigns… or as you like to call him Joe. You’re doting husband and father to your three kids. A man with a multitude of talents, charms, and good looks. You won the lottery with this man and he feels the same about you. Joe has never had a problem making anything happen for you or your kids. Yet, he can seem oblivious to all of you.. and you know why?! It’s because of that damn phone.

Yeah, Joe’s an amazing and caring man. But that phone stays strapped to his ear while attending to you or the kids.

The kids want him to open a Caprisun, he’s on that phone. You want him to take out the trash, he’s on that phone. You want him to change the baby’s diaper, you guessed it… he’s on that phone.

Although these tasks do get done, he never makes eye contact with any of you and seemingly gets annoyed anytime one of you walk up to him. So you weren’t surprised seeing your 5 year old daughter come up to you with an attitude as you were breast feeding.

“Baby girl what happened?!” You questioned as she crossed her little arms and huffed out a deep breath making the strands of her hair on her forehead rise into the air fall back down.

“Papa’s till on the phone.” My god did that little girl look like a spitting image of Joe whenever he caught an attitude. Your baby is one hundred and ten percent a daddy’s girl so to see him not give her the attention she wants made you upset.

“Listen baby okay, mommy’s gonna put your baby brother to sleep and I’ll deal with papa for you. Go upstairs and play with your big sister.” She gave you a sweet little smile and nodded her head in agreement. You watched as she ran up the stairs eager to play dolls with her big sister.

Once your baby boy wasn’t latched on anymore, you went upstairs to place him on the bed you shared with Joe. You placed a pillow fort around him to keep him safe and turned on the baby monitor. You checked on the girls quickly and made your way back downstairs.

You find Joe in the living room with the dogs surrounding him as he watched the NBA Draft. You could overhear him talking about WWE can further the Bloodline story even more before his return. Now assuming he’s talking to Hunter, you placed your hands on his shoulders and began slowing massaging before he turned around to face you as he gave a small smile.

You make your way around the couch and sat next to him. His eyes still glued to the TV as he placed one of his hands on your thigh, caressing it ever so gently. “Joe… you think you c—.”

“Shush.”

Joe lifts up the hand that was on your thigh and placed in on your mouth in order to motion him telling you to be quiet. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head as you couldn’t believe he just shushed you.

After you could his meals, massage his back after a match, wash his laundry, and pushed out his big headed kids.. he had the audacity to shush you.

Two can play at that game.

Knowing how much Joe can’t resist you, you can’t believe you didn’t think of this earlier to get this man off the phone. As Joe moves his finger away from your lips and places it on his own thigh now, you lean back into the headrest of the couch and spread open your legs.

Joe doesn’t take much notice until he hears you fumbling with your pants. He turns his head slightly as witnesses you bare from the waist down and your perfect pink magic spread before his eyes.

You giggled as Joe completely disregarded the draft completely and stared in awe. You lifted up slightly to take the hand that was once on your thigh and placed his hand near your dripping cunt.

On command, Joe automatically makes his thumb prominent and places it on your beating clit, rubbing in a circular motion. You drop your head back and moan as he continues to play with your pussy with his thumb. Dragging your essence up and down your slit. He soon seems to be losing memory of his call and he begins spitting out “yeah’s” and “mhmmm’s” to Hunter giving the most vague answers to his suggestions and questions.

Joe bites his lip as he looks you in your eyes, giving him the cheesiest grin knowing you’ve basically won the battle. “Yeah, I totally understand.” He says into his phone once more before he puts it on speaker and then mute and places his phone on your stomach.

The heat of his phone makes you hiss slightly and then you begin to hiss more as his tongue comes into contact with your drooling heat. He begins eating you out like a true champ. He nuzzled his face deep into your wet heat and flicked your clit with his thumb. Your back began arching off the sofa as you were beginning to reach your climax.

But a loud voice parades inside your mind as you try to enjoy yourself. “Roman, Joe. You there?!” Joe looked up at you and it was almost like his eyes were telling you something. You watched as his hand that was holding your thigh open, comes near his phone as he presses the mute button once more.

You quickly shut your mouth as Joe removes his mouth from you but keeps the assault on your little clit going. “Yeah I’m here. Umm… what’s gonna happen with my wiseman??!” You watched intently as he pressed the mute button again and goes back to town. He takes his tongue deep into you as Hunter is on the phone blabbing about what’s gonna happen with Paul.

Just as he was wrapping his summary of the wiseman’s future, your legs began to shake and sputter as you finally reached your climax. Your legs clamp around his head and breathing heavy. You let out one deep breath as Joe removes your thighs from around his head and looks as you with a devilish smile as you essence coated his entire beard.

He picks his phone up again and removes it from mute. “Yeah, that was a great convo. We got a lot done, but listen boss man duty calls I gotta get into daddy mode. Mama’s had enough for today.”

You shook her head in agreement as Hunter expressed his understanding. They bid each other farewell and Joe threw his phone behind him. You laid with her legs still spread open, pussy on display for his viewing pleasure staring a hole into his eyes. He lifted his brow at you as if to question what the next move was.

“Ummm if you want more of this sir, you’re gonna have to get myself off your face and go play with your baby girl cause you really upset her today baby.” He hung his head low as he understood the damage he’s caused by focusing on his phone too much.

“Alright I will baby.” He playfully closed your legs for you and you giggled as he placed a blanket over you. He stood up and as he went to walk away, he bent down to whisper in your ear.

“Just know when you want that part two, I’m a phone call away.” He reached for his phone and waved in your face as he chuckled on his way up the stairs.

That man crazy as hell..

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THE END.

Not gonna yieeee… I’m happy to be writing again 😂. Shout out to @thesamoanqueen @mzv11 & @msbigredmachine your stories really motivated me to get back into writing and it helped me realize writing isn’t dead 🫶🏾🫶🏾!! (Jey fic next, cause that’s my baby, YEETTTT!!!)

Hope you all enjoyed 💕💕💕!!

MY TAG SQUAD: @cyberdejos2 @thesamoanqueen @nayys-world @mzv11 @babybatlover @vogueyonce @harlem11680 @seeingstarks @thewarlordsworld @alyyaanna @southerngirl41 @christinabae @pitlissa22 @thealliasylum @fame-ass-ers @iluvthebloodline @jeyusos-girl @ah-fin3sse @solosikoasgf @msbigredmachine @rollinsland @angelicflower2020 @theogsamoanqueen @saintsvenust

*If you want to be added to my tag list, don’t be afraid to let me know!!

[spliffymae]

nobody has to know, a. ojiro

synopsis: it’s caribana season, but instead of catching the dirtiest of wines, aran is moping at his place, thinking about you.

⚠️afabreader, fwb!aran, aran post time skip, reader is caribbean, established fwbs, jealous aran, smut, mentions of phone sex, implied (un)protected sex, MINORS DNI !

kio’s notes - wishin all y’all a hot girl/boy/person summer !!!!

now playing

⊱ ──────── {.⋅ ✺ ⋅.}──────── ⊰

“y/n, you know you have to get permission before you can walk out like that.” your friend teased you once she saw your costume. it was the day of caribana, a day that shouldn’t have tasted bittersweet on your tongue, but did when you realized you wouldn’t be going with aran, your original date for the day.

you kissed your teeth as you grabbed your keys off the counter, dropping them in the side bag strapped to your waist.

“fuck permission. and fuck ojiro’s goofy ass anyways”

3 weeks earlier….

“oh my god, you’re fucking stretching me outtt.” you whine, your lips pouty with fat tears rolling down your face. you were sitting on aran’s lap, being slid down onto his hard dick as you two sat on the couch in your living room.

aran doesn’t respond just yet. he’s too busy trying to keep his composure, stopping himself from cumming before he can really enjoy you.

“aren’t you glad i answered that call, hm? got to give your spoiled ass just what you needed to feel better.” he was a deep baritone in your ear, the velvet of his durag slightly rubbing against your face when he lowered to speak to you.

“but i-it’s not what i wanted.” you let out with a huff. “you’re playing games with me right now, oji.” you were trying really hard to not be the whimpering, babbling mess he knew you were. you were trying to prove him wrong.

aran laughed, “like you weren’t playing games when you let that whack ass take you out. now be good and watch the movie.”

he was right. after all, this all started because you called him to fix a bad hookup you had with a good first date.

“it’s 2am, i thought you and whatshisface were linking.” aran was curious when your name popped up on his phone. after you told him about the date and texted him that the guy wasn’t a creep, he figured he’d hear from you in the upcoming days.

“the stroke game was nonexistent. he came from a handjob and couldn’t get it back up. i’m mad i wore this for nothing.” you were on facetime, so aran could see the annoyed look on your face; the way your brows knitted together and creased, with your eyes filled with disappointment. your brown lips were pushed out in a pout and without a second thought, you flipped your camera to show your mirror. you stood in a pink lingerie set, and the sight of you had aran’s cock twitching in his pyjama pants.“i don’t get it. i look so pretty tonight, oji. don’t i?”

the way his name fell from your mouth made his heart skip. the neediness in your tone, the yearning he could hear just from his name. how you wanted him. aran swallowed back the carnal groan that tried to creep its way out his mouth, “yeah, you look so pretty, princess.” he said with a comforting smile. he looked back up at his tv, his nba 2k23 mycareer opened with his friends spamming his chat and yelling at him to snap back to reality and back to the game. his mic was on, but he had muted them to focus on you. they, however, could hear you two.

you sighed, “can you come make me feel better? …i don’t feel pretty.” and aran hated that you let this dickhead get to you like this. how you looked in the mirror with sad eyes. he knew you shouldn’t have gone on that date. he knew you weren’t gonna be satisfied with anyone but him.

“of course, i’m comin’ right now.” he didn’t waste a secon contemplating on whether he should leave to go to you at 2am. he turned off his ps4 and hung up the call, grabbed a t-shirt, hoodie, his phone and his car keys, and was on his way to you.

2 weeks earlier…

“bro, you literally just disappeared on us last week. you know that was the only free time all of us had.” osamu pushed aran as the two stood in the starbucks line. they were meeting some friends from high school at the coffee shop to hang out. since graduation, each of them went their separate ways, focusing on achieving their respective goals. they always made time to hang out once a week though.

aran mumbled a meaningless apology, “sorry man, had to take care of something.” he wasn’t sorry. he honestly didn’t care. if he could choose between playing video games with his friends or spending a night in you, he would pick you everytime.

“something or someone. y’know one day we’re gonna have to meet this girl. it’s been going on for so long now.” samu gave aran a final look before stepping up in the line. he was next to order, watching as the girl in front of him stepped to the side.

you had looked up from your position at the cash register of your job to see two familiar faces. one being your friend osamu from volleyball camp, and aran—the man, who just last night, was moaning into his phone about how bad he needed you while he pumped his hand around his cock.

“y/n! looking radiant as ever!” osamu winked.

you flashed a smile,“thank you osamu, what can i get y’all today?”

“i’ll take a white chocolate mocha, spinach and feta egg wrap, and the truth from aran about his secret girlfriend!” the last part came out of nowhere catching both you and aran off guard. you laughed a bit, but out of pure nervousness. your heartbeat even increased.

“samu!” the young man yelled, giving osamu a slap to his shoulder.

you simply giggled, “this girl must be pretty special if you gotta keep her a secret, oji.” the nickname didn’t come out in the usual way aran was use to hearing. with your voice breathless and filled with an adoration for him. instead it was purely friendly, with a little hint of playfulness. it was different, and it made him miss the former.

“there’s no girl, samu. i ain’t find anyone worth my time, alright? aran ojiro is meant to be a free bird, so let me fly.” aran said as he walked to the other open register, eyes completely missing you as he gave a flirty smile to your coworker. and of course, she loved it. you on the other hand, found yourself to be irked.

1 week earlier…

“bro, you seriously ghosted me over something you took out of context?” aran had finally gotten the chance to be face to face with you after a week of radio silence from you. you two had both shown up to kita’s birthday party. you had come just to show face. you weren’t gonna stay—you were simply there to hand kita his gift and leave before a certain six foot wing spiker showed up.unfortunately, aran spotted you handing the present off to kita with an apologetic smile, attempting to leave before you could see him.

before you could step off the porch, aran had dragged you back into the house, disregarding the looks from guests and protests from you, and pulled you upstairs into the bathroom. he pressed you on your absence, on how you refused to pick up his calls and leave his texts on delivered.

“i’m letting you fly, what’chu mean? you’re a free bird, right?” you knitted your brows in curiosity, “i mean,” you smiled, “that’s what you said…right?”

aran pinched the bridge of his nose out of frustration. he leaned against the bathroom counter, standing in front of you, seated at the edge of the tub in front of him. “seriously? i was just saying that to get samu off my back. and even if i meant that shit, so what? we’re just fucking.”

you scoffed, “so now it’s just fucking?…don’t give me that shit, aran. you and i both know we passed ‘just fucking’ a long time ago. but you wanna go flirt with other people in front of me? like you weren’t on my phone begging for me?” you had an attitude, that was for certain.

“bro, why are you trying to make this complicated? i swore we weren’t supposed to be anything serious.” he was defensive, honestly he didn’t know why. he just didn’t like how you were coming for him.

you nodded, “right. so we can just act like we don’t care for each other.”

“i didn’t say all that. i’m just not understanding why you’re getting at me over a misunderstanding.” he honestly wasn’t looking for this. he was just hoping to get a brief explanation and maybe even a lil’ sum sum, but instead he was getting an earful. and it wasn’t an earful of your moans, the way he had hoped.

“because i like you, asshole. because you fuck me and say shit like ‘this my pussy’ or ‘i’m the only one for you’. because you take me out and shower me with affection. because you’re there whenever i need you. and you expect me to what? not feel a way? be okay with you flirting with other girls in my face?what, am i just hear to make you hard?” you raise your arms in frustration.

it was clear from his reddened eyes he had smoked, and the vodka breezer he held in his hand let you know he was lightly drinking too. you say all this because it had to be these factors that made him respond to you the way he did. with a half smirk and laugh, “what’s wrong with just making me hard?”

but you found nothing funny about this. not anything about you finally telling him how you felt was funny to you. it was a pain. a giant and irritating one that you wanted to be free of, but somehow just seemed to worsen. “you know what, you clearly don’t care so i’m not gonna either. see you around, oji.”

the nickname was in a different tone this time around. no adoration, no playfulness. you spoke it flat, with no emotion. and as you stood up and left aran in the bathroom by himself, with the last words being his name in such an emotionless voice, he couldn’t help but think he might have fucked that up.

present…

aran was sitting on his front porch, spliff in hand as he looked down at his phone. today was caribana. he was supposed to be there with you. but instead he was nursing what kita described as a ‘cracked heart’.

he was thinking about you. about how hurt you looked as you left the party. you went radio silent on him afterwards. didn’t hit him up for anything; not to link, not to fuck, not to talk...you were ojiro free—and he hated it!

“so y/n was the secret girlfriend.” osamu had come outside from the kitchen, two cold beers in his right hand.

“wasn’t a girlfriend.” aran mumbled, taking a pull from his spliff.

osamu rolled his eyes, “shut up, she might as well been. look how she got you. meanwhile where is she?” it was meant to be a rhetorical question, but aran took it literally. with his phone in his other hand he went to instagram and ironically, your story was the first in the long and seemingly endless line of instagram stories. he tapped the icon, immediately seeing a video of you posing in your costume with shensea’s shen yeng anthem coming through your phone.

osamu leaned over to see you and mindlessly whistled at your appearance. “you fumbled a serious bag, my friend.” he ignored the glare aran sent his way because he knew aran knew he was right.

“shut the hell up.” the bitter man mumbled, eyes looking back on his phone to see the next story you posted. it was you on the street, posing with people from your band as you all held up your country’s flag. aran got a better look of your costume. the way that its colors; the purple bands and silver jewel stoned garments that connect to them, brought out your rich and warm undertone the way your headpiece demanded the attention to be on you. you were all smiles with your girlfriends, and aran loved to see you happy. your smile was probably his favorite thing about you.

pissed him off he wasn’t the one making you smile like that, though.

“tsumu just texted me that he sees her.” osamu said just as the timer for your story ran out. it then went to atsumu’s who was holding his phone high up, recording not only him walking w the parade of people, but walking behind you…who was carelessly wining against his crotch to the sounds of gyal you a party animal.

osamu had just so happened to glance back at aran’s screen and his mouth instantly fell at the sight. there was his twin brother, handing his phone off to someone next to him as he flipped to the back camera. he took your hips in his hands and began to move against you making you cheer in excitement.

it was all harmless, a careless bubble he caught because he was your friend. there was nothing serious about it, and that is what made aran the most upset. to know you were okay to do that. because you weren’t his, he had no right to get mad at you just dancing with atsumu because you two are not together, that’s what he knows you’d say if he were to bring this up. but he made it his right to have, the jealousy. because who did you think you were to move against any other man the way you moved against him?

osamu wanted to laugh! because of course this would happen to aran. of course the man who was ‘too busy for love’ would find himself pining after “the one that got away”.

some time had passed and aran was now three spliffs in, a beer in hand as he sat on the beanbag in his room. some random show was playing in the back, but all his attention was on the various instagram and snap stories you posted. he would even watch the snaps of your friends just to see if he’d catch you doing anything. yeah, he was down so bad. here you were having so much fun without him. so much so that not only was he annoyed, but he finally decided to just cave and text you.

ojiro (don’t answer rn)

honestly i’m too high

but fuck it you won

i care about you

and you make me hard

so call me when you see this

[mksc77]

A little World Series celebration/Halloween fic :) Hope y’all like it! 💜

"Hi, you guys," Sharon greeted as Provenza and Patrice followed Andy onto the back porch. She nodded at the bottle of wine in Patrice's hands. "Ahh, this is why we're friends. You bring gifts."

"I got red so Louie wouldn't drink half of it," Patrice murmured as she gave her the bottle. "I've gained a few pounds with all of this isolation and have been drinking more than normal, so I'm trying to cut back."

"So have I," Sharon agreed, "but tonight will have to be an exception. My nerves are already shot, and the game hasn't even started." October had been a crazy month for sports. Sharon nor Andy were basketball fans, but with a local team playing in the NBA finals, they'd watched most of the games and had been excited for a Lakers championship. And admittedly had the best sex they'd ever had afterward. The World Series had started just a few days later, and it seemed like they'd spent most of the month glued to the TV. With neither couple having ventured out in the last week or so, they'd decided that a socially-distanced, outdoor viewing of the game together would be reasonably safe.

Andy was watching the pregame coverage on TV. "Damn, I miss Vin Scully. Baseball still hasn't been the same without him."

Sharon rolled her eyes. "Oh, god, here we go. There better not have to be a seventh game, because I don't think I can handle another night of Scully mourning."

"The man was a legend!" Andy protested.

"Honey, it's been a couple of years since he retired. I think it's about time to get over it."

"Blasphemy," Andy muttered.

By the Fifth Inning, the game was looking grim. "I feel like I'm watching a little girl's t-ball game," Provenza complained.

Sharon raised an eyebrow. "You clearly never saw any of Emily's games. She was probably the only five-year-old in history to turn t-ball into a contact sport. I was actually relieved when she was a little older and decided to give up other activities to put more time into ballet."

Andy shook his head. "Shocking."

"Wait a minute, what's happening?" Provenza asked when the Rays coach trotted out to the pitcher's mound. "Surely, he's not taking out Snell? He's only allowed two hits all night!"

Andy shrugged. "I wouldn't complain. He's made our guys look like they've never held a bat before."

Provenza sipped his wine. "I'm not complaining, either, but this would have to be the dumbest call—yep, there he goes. This is about to be a gamechanger…He's putting Anderson in? He's been pathetic all month!"

"Did Cash bet against his own team or something?" Andy asked. "It's like he's trying to lose this game."

True to their prediction, Betts almost immediately hit a double down the left field line. After a wild pitch and another hit, the score had turned from a 1-0 deficit to a 2-1 lead in just a few plays.

"There are the boys I know and love," Sharon commented, finishing off her glass of wine and pouring another.

By the last inning, with the Dodgers up by two and one out away from winning the game, Provenza massaged two fingers against his chest. "I don't know if it's the wine or this game that's giving me heartburn. Do you know where my little purple pills are?" He asked Patrice.

"Yeah, in the cabinet right beside your little blue ones," Patrice answered, without hesitation.

"A simple yes would've sufficed," Provenza grumbled.

Andy laughed, and Sharon just focused on her wine glass, trying not to laugh, herself. "I hope there's some Xanax in there somewhere, too," Sharon whispered to Patrice.

"No, that's in my purse." Patrice rolled her eyes. "I'm not above crushing some into his wine glass when he leaves it unattended."

Rusty looked confused. "What's the big deal about blue pills—oh, gross," he whined, connecting the dots.

"Okay, come on, one more strike," Sharon murmured, looking back at the TV. "All right!" Everyone except Rusty jumped up and cheered, yelling and high-fiving. Rusty didn't get the baseball obsession and just watched.

"As much as I'd love to stay and celebrate, it's time to shift the focus to a different variety of balls," Provenza said, indicating for Patrice to get up. "If we don't get home soon, I really might need one of those blue pills, but we're celebrating, one way or the other."

"Do we have to hear this?" Rusty complained.

"It can't be unheard," Andy lamented. "There goes any desire I had to celebrate." Patrice's Viagra jab had been funny, but the following dialogue had been a boner-killer if he'd ever heard one.

"Ewwww, not you, too!" Rusty fled into the house before his gag reflex could be tested any further.

Sharon, a little affected by the night's wine consumption, just laughed helplessly at Provenza's eagerness to get home and Andy's and Rusty's disgust. When the Provenzas were gone, she ran a bath and got one more glass of wine. She'd expected Andy to join her in the bath, as she hadn't thought he'd been serious about his own desire to "celebrate" being gone, but when she got out and found him reading in bed, she was a little disappointed. Still wrapped in her robe, she nibbled at his ear and moved to his neck, thinking she just needed to get things started herself, but Andy shook his head. "Not tonight. I won't be able to do anything without Provenza being in my head, and that's just weird."

"Oh, come on, Andy, the Dodgers just won the World Series for the first time in decades, and in the same month as an NBA championship! When will we have this chance again?"

"I don't know, but not tonight," Andy answered dramatically.

"You can call all the shots," Sharon pleaded. "Whatever you want."

Andy shook his head, unmoved.

Sharon shrugged. "All right, fine." The question wasn't whether or not they were having sex tonight, she would see to it that they did, the question was just how to get there. Her first impulse was to reach for the navy chemise that he could never resist, but something about the situation wanted her to make it a little more challenging than that. Instead, she pulled one of Andy's Dodger's t-shirts over her head and slipped on a pair of panties she knew he loved. "I'm cleaning out my closet tomorrow, so I'm going to go ahead and rearrange some things if we're not doing anything else."

Seeing that Sharon was just in one of his old t-shirts, Andy was relieved that she wasn't going to try to seduce him, so he let his guard down. He went back to his book, but couldn't help but watch her out of the corner of his eye. Damn, those legs. They fucked him over every damn time. He admittedly quivered a bit when she stood on her tiptoes and reached for something at the top of her closet and he could see the lacy, rose-colored panties he loved for her to wear peeking out from under the hem of his t-shirt. Closing his book, his attention was now on her entirely, as he still felt safe from her trying to get him in the mood. He could just enjoy the view and leave it at that. Or not. He was done for when she bent over to put something on a bottom shelf. "All right, fine, you win. Let's do it."

Sharon turned to look at him, wide-eyed and the picture of innocence. "What? I think if I've put on an old t-shirt and am cleaning out my closet, you can assume that the moment has passed."

"Please," it was Andy's turn to beg, "whatever you want. And I'll make sure you finish, one way or the other."

Sharon pretended to think it over. "I mean, if you really want to…"

"Yes. Please. And I'll do the dishes and laundry for a week. And I'll wear that godawful chimney sweep costume for Halloween."

"Deal." Sharon bit back a smile as she pulled her t-shirt over her head. Did she know this man, or what? He was so damn easy.

The next morning, Sharon woke up in Andy's arms, which didn't happen all that often. She wasn't a cuddly sleeper, much to Andy's dismay, but she hadn't had the energy to push him off of her during the night.

"Hey," Andy mumbled, feeling her start to stir against him. Eyes still closed, he tightened his arms around her and pulled her closer to him.

"Hey." Sharon yawned and nuzzled into his shoulder. "I'm still a little weak in the knees after last night, I've gotta say."

Andy kissed the top of her head. "That makes two of us. Damn. We even scared Poppy out of the room."

MCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMC

On Halloween morning, Sharon was reading in the swing on the porch while Rusty studied at the table nearby. Andy walked up the back steps after working in the yard. "What do you want to do for lunch?"

Sharon looked at her watch. "It's 10:00, honey, I haven't gotten that far yet."

"It's only 10:00?" Andy wasn't adjusting to retirement very well. Being confined to the house did not suit him at all. Sharon wasn't a sedentary person, by any means, but she was better at finding things to do and setting personal goals for herself to keep her occupied than he was. She'd been exercising and meditating more than she'd ever had time for before, and while Andy worked out, he still had trouble filling his days.

"Afraid so." Sharon eyed the pumpkins lining the porch steps. "Why don't we carve the pumpkins? That'll be fun, and it'll take some time."

"Anything to distract me from Trademark Law," Rusty agreed. "I'm about to lose my damn mind."

Andy shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

"Nothing gross, Andy," Rusty warned.

Andy tilted his head. "So breasts are out of the question?"

"Mo-om!" Rusty complained.

Sharon rolled her eyes. "Both of you, stop torturing each other!" They had been driving her insane for the last few months.

A little while later, Andy was the last to finish his pumpkin. Sharon and Rusty had taken traditional approaches, but Andy had taken a different direction. "This is my general attitude toward this whole year," he grinned, turning his pumpkin around.

"Wha—Andy!" Sharon shrieked with laughter when she saw "fuck off" carved into his pumpkin. "But you're not wrong about that."

Late that afternoon, Sharon was putting the finishing touches on her Mary Poppins costume. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I miss last year's costume arrangement," Andy lamented, referencing a bet he'd lost with his commanding officer which resulted in a terrible costume for him, but a low-cut, form-fitting dress of a costume for Sharon, which he was always on board for. There was no party this year, but they were planning to sit at the end of their driveway with their neighbors and cocktails for those who imbibed, which was about as close to a costume party as they could get. "Was there not at least a sexy Mary Poppins option?" he whined, indicating her high-necked white blouse and knee-length black skirt. "Halloween is a good excuse to get away with being revealing, but I'm getting nothing from this."

"Oh, really? I guess that makes my night a little less taxing, then." Sharon leaned closer to the bathroom mirror to apply her lipstick. Shocking no one, Andy had honed in on her ass and otherwise barely seemed to notice she was in the room. He was so full of shit. Men. She gave him a knowing look. "But you know you can always sweep my chimney any time."

[shervonfakhimi]

What I Learned From Attending Lakers-Thunder

When I was sitting on my family’s couch on the night of December 28th, 2019, I had no idea what awaited for me as my brother had been touting a gift that would knock my socks off, to put it lightly. Turns out, he was right, because he helped get me (and himself) tickets to see my beloved Los Angeles Lakers play the surging Oklahoma City Thunder on January 11th, 2020, my first live sporting event of the new decade. I was much more thrilled then than the afternoon of the game itself, where we both learned that LeBron James (my brother is quite the LeBron stan) would not play due to the flu on the second night of a back-to-back after another stunning performance against the Luka-led Dallas Mavericks. Learning that Anthony Davis and Danny Green would not play a few hours later seemingly set the stage for what looked to be a potential blowout of the Lakers, but we drove through slight elements anyway to one of the most shocking results of the season at essentially its midpoint, with the Lakers stunning the Thunder, on the road, on the second night of a back-to-back 125-110. It was a blast. Not only did we have a great time, but I learned a thing or two that I didn’t quite know for sure beforehand.

Forgot About Kuz

As Kyle Kuzma went to the free-throw line after getting fouled on a jump shot, the stadium ops at Chesapeake Energy Arena briefly played the ‘Forgot About Dre’ instrumental by Dr. Dre featuring Eminem, surely referencing Kuzma’s Slim Shady-esque blonde hair. Well, that only got him going as he went full renegade mode, dropping a season-high 36 points. What was most impressive was the variety of the buckets he served on the Thunder defense. Pick-and-pops, transition, put-backs, even being the primary ball-handler at times. He was electric and filled the gaping scoring hole LeBron and Davis left behind and showed exactly why either the Lakers shouldn’t trade him or did them a favor by boosting his trade value. I’ve always been in the camp of the former, for a myriad of reasons: 1) he’s still only on the third year of his rookie-scale contract with restricted free agency coming in the summer of 2020. Having young players in tow is key to sustain great teams and I believe he can be a part of those said teams. 2) Because he is on that contract it is hard for the Lakers to match salaries to bring back an impact player for him. 3) He has a skill-set the Lakers could very much use. Consistency has been an issue for Kuzma throughout his brief NBA career, but I’ve seen him have games like this and now just saw one live to reinforce my belief in him. The trade talk surely must be inescapable for him if even fans in the arena were chirping him about in the game. Who knows what will happen between now and the trade deadline. I understand Kuzma is not a perfect player and why he can be had in trade talks. But at least for one night, Kyle Kuzma showed his game, his worth and his potential as an impact player… for the Los Angeles Lakers.

Playoff Rondo Lives?

Rajon Rondo has not been all that great this season. Some nights, he’s been flat-out bad, a caricature compared to the mythical ‘Playoff Rondo’ figure who rears his head in April, May and sometimes June. Well, Saturday gave perhaps a sneak preview, as Rondo out-floor general-ed longtime buddy Chris Paul to the tune of a near triple-double with a 22 point, 12 rebound, 8 assist outing, repeatedly pushing the ball and setting his teammates up for success. He did most of his scoring damage in the first quarter but slowed down in that area in the second half (In the third quarter, he apparently injured his finger, which I didn’t know until after the game had ended. He also shot an airball on a three, which prompted the esteemed gentleman sitting to my right to proclaim ‘we know Rondo can’t shoot!’ as he proceeded to put a dip of tobacco in, which I guess is allowed in NBA arenas?). Scoring from the perimeter has been the glaring weakness of this Lakers team this season and Rondo has been the unofficial poster boy from fans, myself included (I repeatedly nudged my brother, asking him ‘where the hell has this been!’ when Rondo is pouring bucket after bucket early on. I still think the Lakers need another perimeter ball-handler capable of creating his own shot, though Quinn Cook stepped up big in that role as well alongside Kuzma and even Troy Daniels running off screens and hitting timely shots. Maybe Rondo is saving himself for the postseason, where the last two times he’s been a participant he was a major positive for the New Orleans Pelicans and Chicago Bulls. I don’t know. But the fact he let me and the world know he still has it and can change a game for the better was quite the welcome surprise.

The Lakers Defense Is Real and Is Spectacular

It was fascinating to watch the Lakers defend in real life. To hear the communication and watch them swarm from one defender to another, to help and make the proper rotations, etc. Anthony Davis is *the* major factor as to why the Lakers are dominant on that end, but they truly do defend on a string. Watching Jared Dudley as the backline of defense from the back of their basket recognize in an instant he had to protect the rim to alter the shot of a rampaging Hamidou Diallo was amazing. They were tremendous. Sure, Oklahoma City shot just 29% from three and missed shots they normally would make, but the Lakers did everything in their power to make those as difficult as possible. Saturday Night was the crowning jewel of the Frank Vogel Coach of the Year campaign.

Lakers Team Depth and Chemistry

The Lakers’ depth has been brought into question this year, but this performance should quell some of those concerns. Perhaps the Thunder took this game lightly after James, Davis and Green were ruled out, but the Lakers withstood a late Thunder push when they made it a 12 point game. The Lakers played 10 players and all of them made an impact. They can use another piece or two, but the Lakers have plenty of guys right now outside of the dynamic duo who can contribute. But outside of that, what really stood out was the team chemistry they have. Any time someone would do something the bench would get up. They played together as a team knowing they don’t have their two best, most dynamic players. LeBron even got up off the bench to whisper something to Alex Caruso during the game as if LeBron was a coach. Anthony Davis interviewed Rajon Rondo after the game for the local Los Angeles TV crew. They’re a legit team through and through, on and off the court.

Shai’s Got the Goods, Dude

I mean, two teams did in fact play, so I might as well talk about the other team. The Chris Paul / Danilo Gallinari two-man game was able to put the Lakers’ defense in compromising positions, but the biggest thing to me was how easy Shai Gilgeous-Alexander was able to score. He’s one of those guys who can just glide to wherever he wants to go and score at any level. That is especially impressive to me considering I believe his playmaking is at the very least on the same level and perhaps better than his scoring ability. He is going to be very good for a very long time.

(By the way, I typed this *BEFORE* Shai delivered a 20-20-10 performance in his next game)

A Brief Soliloquy on Load Management

When fans and analysts would go after players and teams for their load management tactics, I would normally just shake my head in disgust because they would not put the players’ health in front of their own self-interests. And then… LeBron James and Anthony Davis didn’t play in a game I went to in very large part to see them do their thing. Load management is real, y’all. After this game, the only time this regular season the Lakers will play in an area close to where I live in Fayetteville, Arkansas is in Memphis on February 29th. I don’t mind and very much understand why they did, in fact, sit out: Anthony Davis hurt his butt (of course he did) defending a Julius Randle shot at the rim and LeBron conveniently caught the flu the night before when he played the Mavericks. To say our mood was shot getting the news neither would play was an understatement. I even offered to just stay at home and not risk travel through some snow that came down the night before in the Arkansas/Oklahoma area. I still very much wanted to go because the Lakers are the team that I’ve rooted for my entire life but I felt especially bad for my brother, the two little kids I met at the end of the game who also traveled from Fayetteville and the numerous others in attendance who wanted to see LeBron and Davis play. It sucks, but that’s just the way it is. Teams don’t have us fans in mind when gauging whether their players should play on a back-to-back in January; they have their players’ health and championship quest as their priority and rightfully so. I don’t know what the solution is. At least we knew LeBron was not playing before we left and pretty much knew Davis would follow suit. You have to figure if the NBA were to lower the amount of regular-season games and carry on with their sort of ridiculous in-season tournament that no one seems to want that there still would be *some* back-to-back games. My brother didn’t know that two weeks after he bought the tickets that Anthony Davis would injure his butt and LeBron would get sick essentially the night before we wanted to see him. I really wanted to see them play, but even just seeing them, in general, conversing with teammates was really cool to see. Even going made my night, personally (especially since it had been over half a decade since I had gone to an NBA game live), but I don’t know if I can say the same for everyone else. The fact that the Lakers won *without them* made that night even more special for me. It was a blast and was a night I don’t think I’ll ever forget. Go Lakers!

[kansascityhappenings]

Victim’s brother forgives, hugs Amber Guyger before she heads to prison to start 10-year sentence

https://newsource-embed-prd.ns.cnn.com/videos/newsource-video-embed.js

DALLAS – After former Dallas police officer Amber Guyger was sentenced Wednesday to 10 years in prison for the murder of Botham Jean, his brother embraced her and said he forgives her.

Brandt Jean went over to Guyger and the two hugged. Jean told her he doesn’t want her to go to prison.

“I love you as a person and I don’t want to wish anything bad on you,” Jean said before they hugged for nearly 30 seconds.

Jurors on Tuesday had found Guyger, 31, guilty of murder for fatally shooting Jean in his Dallas apartment in 2018. She had faced between five years and 99 years for the shooting.

Before the jury made its decision Wednesday, it heard from character witnesses, including Jean’s and Guyger’s family members.

After the sentence was announced, the court gave one family member the opportunity to address Guyger.

Jean also encouraged Guyger to ask God for forgiveness, because turning to Christ would be exactly what his brother would have wanted.

‘Botham was my absolute person’

Wednesday’s testimony opened with Jean’s close friend sharing stories of his love for sports and God. She wept over a text message she never sent to him.

Alexis Stossel met Jean her junior year at Harding University in Searcy, Arkansas. They became best friends after they were appointed to sit on a business school advisory board, she testified.

The hearing began shortly after Tuesday’s verdict, in which jurors found Guyger, 31, guilty — despite the ex-officer’s defense that she mistakenly walked into the wrong apartment and opened fire because she thought Jean was an intruder.

“Next to my husband, Botham was my absolute person,” Stossel said, explaining that before she got married, she told her would-be spouse, “I love you, but this man is going to be in my life forever, and he’s going to be a part of us forever.”

Her husband, Jacob, and Jean shared an interest in the NBA and became friends themselves after Stossel and Jean moved to Texas following graduation. She would joke that she was their third wheel, she testified.

Jean called Stossel “Big Tex” because of her height. He insisted that she call him “her black friend, Botham,” she said, laughing at the memory.

“People gravitated towards him,” Stossel said of Jean. “It didn’t matter if you didn’t know him personally or you were just in the same room, you just felt welcomed by his presence.”

‘I slumped to the floor’

Stossel and Jean had a Tuesday night routine, where they’d go to church, take notes, then go out to dinner and compare notes. Once on a road trip to a friend’s wedding in Nashville, they discussed the meaning of success, she said.

“He just really believed that success was your impact on people and how you helped people,” she said.

When she moved to Kilgore with her husband, she was sad to leave her friend, but Jean encouraged her and told her she’d miss every shot she didn’t take.

“No matter where you and Jacob are, I would give up a limb for y’all. Maybe two. Your black friend Bo,” he wrote.

On September 6, 2018, the day he died, the two spoke of Jean visiting Kilgore and shared photos from Dallas and Harding. She told Jean she was getting emotional “because I’m a girl.” He texted back “LOL,” but she didn’t see it until the next day — shortly before she learned Jean was dead.

“I slumped to the floor and I just kept screaming, ‘Wait, wait, wait, wait.’ I hung up the phone and then I called Botham seven times and there was no answer,” she said, weeping. “If I had just seen the text message, if I had just expanded that ‘I’m thankful for you all the time,’ maybe it would be a little less painful.”

Guyger’s mom raises sexual assault

Taking the stand to speak on her daughter’s behalf, Karen Guyger, 66, provided some background on Amber Guyger’s siblings, her separation from Amber Guyger’s father and her children’s upbringing in Arlington, just outside Dallas.

She broke down several times during her testimony and had trouble getting her words out as she recounted suspecting her ex-boyfriend of sexually molesting Amber in 1995, when she was 6.

“I was going back to the bedroom. I was fixing to take a shower and I forgot my comb. And that’s when I saw him coming down out the bedroom and then Amber came out,” she said.

Amber Guyger’s sister, Alana Guyger, later elaborated, saying the boyfriend “touched (Amber) inappropriately on a few occasions.”

Amber’s mother called police, who arrested her then-boyfriend on a count of indecency with a child, to which he pleaded guilty, Karen Guyger said.

The weeping mother said her daughter was a sweet child who made friends quickly. She loved music and played violin and trumpet as a youngster. She loved the outdoors and was always a responsible, hard worker, her sister said.

“She was the little sister the I always looked up to,” said Alana Guyger, who shared a bedroom with her sister as a child. “I’ve always admired her for being brave. She’s outgoing. She just has this certain positive energy that everybody gravitates toward. They want to be her friend.”

Amber Guyger always had an interest in policing — joining an anti-drug program in grade school and going on ride-alongs with police in high school. She dropped out of college in her junior year so she could join the police academy, Karen Guyger said.

Karen Guyger suffers from pulmonary fibrosis and her daughter always worries about her and helps take care of her, she said. She brings her mother “little thoughtful gifts for no reason,” her sister testified.

On the day Jean died, the mother said, her daughter called crying uncontrollably.

“She was very upset. I couldn’t understand her when she first told me. I couldn’t understand her because she was crying so hard,” she said.

In later conversations, her daughter told her, “She wanted to take his place. She’d always tell me she wished that she could take his place. She feels very bad about it.”

Added Alana Guyger, “She doesn’t have that same light or energy that she had before. … She’s expressed to me how she feels bad spending time with her family because he can’t be with his.”

Jean’s father takes the stand

Prior to Guyger’s mother’s testimony, Jean’s father, Bertrum Jean, took the stand, vacillating between tears and smiles. He recounted how when Botham Jean was young, he enjoyed being around him and always looked forward to picking him up at his grandmother’s house after work.

“It did not matter what time it was, I just wanted him with me,” he testified. “There were times when my friends said I was babying him, a big boy, but I enjoyed doing that.”

As he grew up, Jean, like many kids in primary school, grew embarrassed of embracing his father, “but I demanded it: ‘Come and hug your dad,’” Bertrum Jean said.

While Botham Jean was at Harding, his father also looked forward to their Sunday chats. They’d talk about church and Botham Jean would show off “his good cooking, which he learned from me.”

“My Sundays have been destroyed … because I’m not hearing his voice,” Bertrum Jean testified, saying he can’t bear to watch video of his son singing because it’s too painful.

“How could we have lost Botham? Such a sweet boy, he tried his best to live a good, honest life. He loved God. He loved everyone. How could this happen to him?” Bertrum Jean said.

Former crack addict says Guyger made her feel human

LaWanda Clark met Guyger in 2017 when police came to the home where she was doing drugs. Guyger wrote her a ticket.

She told Clark, you can keep doing drugs or this can be your ticket out, Clark told the court. At the drug house, Guyger kept coming back to talk to Clark.

“It made me feel so human. It made me stop and think,” Clark said. “She let me know that I mattered, that she just didn’t see me as an addict.”

Clark went to court for the ticket where she was entered into a drug rehabilitation program. When she learned she would be graduating, she called police and asked whether the officer who wrote her a ticket could come.

Guyger came, and “I don’t know who was more excited,” said Clark, who said she hasn’t done crack since she was cited.

Guyger faces up to life in prison

During the trial, Guyger testified that after working long hours September 6, 2018, she returned to her apartment complex. In uniform but off duty, she approached what she thought was her apartment. She noticed the door was ajar, found a man inside and fired her service weapon, killing him.

She was actually at the apartment directly above hers, which belonged to the 26-year-old accountant from St. Lucia. Jean was on the couch, watching TV and eating ice cream when Guyger walked in, prosecutors said.

On the phone with a 911 operator that night, Guyger said 19 times she thought she had been in her apartment.

Guyger was initially charged with manslaughter, but a grand jury later indicted her for murder. The Dallas Police Department fired her.

from FOX 4 Kansas City WDAF-TV | News, Weather, Sports https://fox4kc.com/2019/10/02/brother-of-botham-jean-forgives-hugs-amber-guyger-before-she-heads-to-prison-to-start-10-year-sentence/

from Kansas City Happenings https://kansascityhappenings.wordpress.com/2019/10/02/victims-brother-forgives-hugs-amber-guyger-before-she-heads-to-prison-to-start-10-year-sentence/

[yahoo-shutdown-corner-blog]

Should NFL owners consult fans about whether to sign controversial players?

Welcome to Wednesday War Room, where Yahoo Sports’ NFL experts kick around the key topics of the day. Got a suggestion for a topic? Email us. Today, we’re talking owners seeking fans’ input, and Hall of Fame alpha dogs. Onward! 

Question 1: Ravens owner Steve Bisciotti made headlines this week when he indicated he’d be consulting with fans about whether to sign free agent quarterback Colin Kaepernick. Should an owner or general manager ever seek the input of fans on personnel decisions?

Zach Pereles: No. Never. There’s a reason for GMs, coaches, scouts and players, right? That’s who you consult. Owners don’t ask the public for their opinions on football decisions, just like GMs don’t ask for help on trades, free agents or draft picks, coaches don’t ask for help with depth charts or play-calling. There are people in place for this, and those people are not the general public.

Jordan Schultz: Yes. There is no downside and all upside to affording fans the opportunity to assume the role of GM for a day. Besides, not like there is an obligation to actually listening to the advice. NFL front office jobs—like the NBA—are the ultimate high for fans. Seriously, what fan doesn’t believe he/she can’t step into their favorite team’s building today and start orchestrating a roster?

Realistically, however, the reason these jobs are so hard to come by is because they are that hard to do. The NFL specifically, is a salary-driven league. By opening up a public forum for people to weigh in on which free agent to pursue and sign, teams are allowing their fans into the one place they never get to go. Practices, games, even film sessions thanks to shows like “Hard Knocks” and “All or Nothing”—we’re used to seeing those kind of things. Solicit the advice of your fans and who knows, maybe it will come to something. Worst case scenario though? Your fans are happier with you than they were yesterday. And in this business, that’s always a good thing.

Frank Schwab: No. No, no, no, no. Never. Don’t even think about it. Did I say no? This is one of the worst ideas imaginable. People think they can be general managers because they beat their college buddies in a fantasy league, but scouting players a hard, intensive process. And crowdsourcing moves to gauge fans’ feelings on morality and politics … I shouldn’t have to explain why that’s a nightmare waiting to happen. Make a decision. Live with the consequences and the feedback. You can’t please everyone and you’re an absolute fool if you think it’s smart to check the opinion of millions of fans before signing or drafting someone.

Jay Busbee: Think of the most ridiculous, absurd, nonsensical idea you can imagine—the earth is flat, a hot dog is a sandwich, the greatest album ever recorded is anything other than “Appetite for Destruction”—and then realize that probably a third of your fellow Americans believe that lunacy with all their hearts. Look, I love every one of you reading this, but a good chunk of y’all are flat-out crazy. (Not you. I’m talking about other readers.) A decent chunk of Americans can’t be trusted to turn off the TV when [insert your least-favorite TV show here] comes on, and we’re talking about trusting them with a decision on a football team? Nnnnnope.

In all seriousness, what Bisciotti is doing is just giving himself cover. He knows that a huge chunk of very loud fans will say what he wants to hear, whether it’s in favor of or against signing Kaepernick, and he can just point to that particular noisy chunk to dodge the heat for making the hard decisions on his own. Don’t want to sign Kaepernick? Fine. Stand up and say so yourself, don’t throw the fans out there as cannon fodder to avoid the blowblack.

Shalise Manza-Young: You mean any team that isn’t the Indoor Football League’s Salt Lake Screaming Eagles, which is run entirely by fan vote? No.

Put anybody alongside him, and John Elway will probably outshine them. (AP)

Question 2: Imagine this: you gather every NFL Hall of Famer in one room. They’ve got to choose their own leader. Who comes out of there in charge? Who’s the NFL’s ultimate alpha dog?

Shalise Manza-Young: I’ll admit: I crowd-sourced this one on Twitter, because I was curious to see the answers I’d get (see, I’m not an NFL owner or GM contemplating someone’s employment, so I can do this). Names that came in more than once? Vince Lombardi, Jim Brown, Lawrence Taylor, Mean Joe Greene, Deacon Jones, Al Davis. Great choices all. But for myriad reasons, I’ll go with Lombardi. It isn’t just that he was a great football coach; more importantly, he sought the best players, regardless of race, and insisted that they all be treated the same, and not just within the team. Lombardi abhorred Jim Crow laws, making it known to Green Bay businesses that they were either to welcome all Packers players or not have any players as patrons. The same was true for players and others he knew to be gay; he would not allow them to be discriminated against. Everyone gravitates toward great leaders, and Lombardi was one of the very best.

Jay Busbee: This needs to happen, if only to watch Deion Sanders and Michael Irvin each furiously courting voting delegations. Me, I’m going with Joe Namath, the absolute coolest human being ever to strap on a football helmet (outside of Burt Reynolds in “The Longest Yard,” of course). Broadway Joe always has that look like he knows 10 things you don’t, and nobody rocked a fur coat like that man in his prime. He’d sweet-talk his way right to the front of the line. (But I wouldn’t bet against new Hall of Famer Jerry Jones to work the room and swing an unexpected victory.)

Frank Schwab: If you’ve ever been in a room with John Elway, you know he’s the answer. I can’t tell you all the famous people Elway has met, but there aren’t too many people who can overshadow him. When Peyton Manning announced his retirement, it still seemed like John Elway was the most important person there. Elway has a pretty amazing blend of leadership, charisma and flat-out cool. People of all walks of life are drawn to him. Teammates were drawn to him too, because he had a rare combination of unbelievable physical skills, work ethic and toughness. Elway played with some great football players, yet they all speak about him with a reverent tone. He’s the only great pro quarterback to ever have meaningful success as an NFL coach or general manager, and there’s a good reason why. Elway is the biggest deal in any room he steps in, even a room with every Hall of Fame football player throughout history.

Jordan Schultz: He may be 81 years old, but Jim Brown still commands a room full of Hall of Famers with a level of charisma and respect few can even dream of achieving. It’s not so much Brown’s brilliance as a player — though that certainly helps — as it is his bold presence. Players and coaches think of him as a pioneer. Why? Because he’s never been afraid to speak of social injustice, just as he’s never been afraid to be himself. That is the ultimate between contemporaries, especially for someone who dominated the league in the manner which Jim Brown did.

“I am who I am,” Brown once said. “And if you don’t take the time to learn about that, then your perception is going to be your problem.”

Zach Pereles: Mike Ditka. It has to be him. Hand him a cigar and have him flip on the aviators. There’s your leader, right there.

Agree? Disagree? Let us know. And if you’ve got an idea for a future War Room, hit us up right here. Only a few weeks ’til football! ____ Jay Busbee is a writer for Yahoo Sports and the author of EARNHARDT NATION, on sale now at Amazon or wherever books are sold. Contact him at jay.busbee@yahoo.com or find him on Twitter or on Facebook.

[junker-town]

5 winners and 5 losers from a chaotic start to NBA free agency

The Pacers gave away Paul George to a team almost nobody expected to even be in the race. This league never lacks for drama.

The first night of NBA free agency didn’t disappoint. Besides the usual allotment of big-money contracts to stars and role players alike, the Paul George sweepstakes came to a swift end when the Pacers traded him to the Thunder for Victor Oladipo and Domantas Sabonis. That left other teams (* cough Celtics cough *) out in the cold wondering why the Pacers settled for an inferior offer to theirs.

We’re still not sure the answer to that question. Additional reporting suggests the Pacers rejected multiple Celtics offers and also turned down a three-way package that would have landed them Denver’s Gary Harris and other goodies. Maybe Kevin Pritchard likes Oladipo and Sabonis that much. Maybe those other proposals weren’t as solid as it appears. Only Pritchard and the Pacers’ front office really knows.

The George blockbuster was the headliner of a busy night in the league. Here are the winners and losers from the first few hours of the free-agent period.

WINNERS

Oklahoma City Thunder

What a difference a few hours makes. As they entered free agency, the Thunder were staring at a hefty luxury-tax bill, a bloated cap sheet for years to come, and a superstar with one year left on his contract and no sidekick in sight. Losing Kevin Durant was bad enough. Playing out Russell Westbrook’s prime with an expensive roster that had no chance to support him in any meaningful way was arguably worse.

And then Sam Presti won the Paul George sweepstakes when nobody expected he would.

With one move, all those Thunder problems melted away. Westbrook has his sidekick, which hopefully nudges him closer to committing for the long haul. The Thunder actually trimmed salary by removing Oladipo’s four-year, $84 million deal off the books, though they’d surely love to replace it with a long-term deal for George after next season. Better yet, they found a secondary star whose off-ball game and defensive tenacity meshes perfectly with Westbrook’s aggressive style.

This could all fall apart if George departs for the Lakers next year and Westbrook leaves soon thereafter, but now the Thunder have a real chance. They were going nowhere fast and will never sign a talent like George outright in free agency. Now, they have a year to convince George he can win in Oklahoma City, which they should do plenty of even in a deep West.

That’s a hell of a lot better than the alternative path of staying the course.

Russell Westbrook

He won’t be outgunned anymore. George is close to the player Durant was and should be even more willing to defer ball-handling to Westbrook.

Russell Westbrook is having a good Friday night ( russwest44 | Instagram) http://pic.twitter.com/F3je6H7E6r

— SB Nation (@SBNation) July 1, 2017

Can’t wait for those Thunder-Warriors games next year.

Jrue Holiday and Blake Griffin

Must be nice to have both of your incumbent teams over a barrel. The Pelicans couldn’t afford to lose Holiday with DeMarcus Cousins in the final year of his contract, and Clippers owner Steve Ballmer didn’t pay $2 billion to execute a rebuild. That’s how two mid-20s players with spotty injury histories secured five-year guaranteed contracts for nine figures.

Both played the situation perfectly. Griffin threatened meetings with the Suns and Nuggets to coerce the Clippers into handing him a five-year, $173 million max extension. Holiday’s camp made noise about the Pacers before agreeing to a five-year, $125 million deal with a player option at the end and incentives that could push the final number to $150 million.

That’a a lot of mullah secured in case those pesky injuries strike again. It’s hard to see either deal aging well for the Clippers and Pelicans as the cap begins to flatten out.

Jazz

Only the Jazz really know if they have a real chance to keep Gordon Hayward, but the last 24 hours have to encourage them. First, they snagged a nice bridge point guard in Ricky Rubio for basically nothing. (Prior reports that keeping incumbent George Hill was a prerequisite to retaining Hayward have been disputed). Then, they watched the Celtics’ dreams of a Hayward-George pairing disintegrate.

Hayward could very well go to the Celtics anyway, and the Heat loom as an increasing threat to sweet talk Hayward to South Beach. Nevertheless, the Jazz’s chances of keeping their star are better now than they were a day ago. That’s all they can ask.

Ron Baker

It’s hard to scoop so many great reporters on your own re-signing.

Photo by Andy Lyons/Getty Images

LOSERS

The Pacers

Really? That’s the best y’all could do for Paul George?

Maybe Victor Oladipo and Domantas Sabonis will show more in an environment where they aren’t standing around and watching Westbrook dribble. Maybe. Even so, Oladipo has a fat $84 million contract and Sabonis replicates Myles Turner’s skill set. And no future draft picks?

The market was certainly cool for George considering his long-desired goal of landing in Los Angeles, but Pritchard might have been better off just letting George’s contract expire than accepting this return.

Danny Ainge

There’s an understandable instinct to rationalize another Celtics’ failure to turn their bushel of assets into a star. Danny Ainge’s most recent offer for George — unveiled suspiciously soon after George went to OKC, for the record -- was a better one than the package Oklahoma City presented. Tom Ziller is right: the Celtics can’t help it if the Pacers did something dumb.

But this is yet another example of Ainge passing on the bird in hand for two in the bush. The Celtics reportedly wanted to pull off the double swoop of landing Gordon Hayward in free agency and George via trade. They pushed to snag Hayward first, under the assumption that George would still be there later and the Pacers would wait for their standing offer. Instead, they lost George to another team and may not land Hayward, either.

That was the same logic that convinced Ainge to trade the No. 1 pick for future assets, that stopped a chance to acquire DeMarcus Cousins, that made Jimmy Butler seem like a problematic option. The possibilities for the future looked far nicer to Ainge than the reality of the present.

But fortune favors the bold, not the exceedingly patient. Ainge may have the last laugh in five years, but there’s a price to waiting for the perfect opportunity instead of pouncing on repeated good ones.

The Eastern Conference

The East already stunk, and now it’s lost Jimmy Butler and Paul George in the span of eight days, with Paul Millsap possibly next. Dion Waiters might make the All-Star team next year!

Allright can we just fusion the east and the west, it's gettin too unbalanced lol

— Rudy Gobert (@rudygobert27) July 1, 2017

The supermax

The whole point of this new rule was to keep star players in one place. The logic was that tossing more money at these players would convince them all to sign on the dotted line as soon as possible and not worry about teaming up to chase championships.

So far, one player has signed a supermax contract: Stephen Curry. With the Warriors. Who already won titles.

The system is not working as intended because players — shocker! — value freedom of movement over getting slightly richer. The Wizards offered John Wall a supermax extension, but he didn’t sign it immediately because he wants to make sure the Wizards can bring him the championship mix he seeks. The threat of Westbrook passing on the big payday convinced the Thunder to make the blockbuster deal for George. The Pacers didn’t take the chance that George would make all-NBA this year because they knew he’d bolt anyway. The Kings and Bulls got cold feet about giving DeMarcus Cousins and Jimmy Butler all that money.

The provision that was supposed to squash superstar movement is instead encouraging it. That cannot be what the owners intended.

Reporters on TV

Where are you going, Brian Windhorst?

Sliding into free agency like... http://pic.twitter.com/ltsJSNJAyI

— NBA on ESPN (@ESPNNBA) July 1, 2017

And is Adrian Wojnarowski lost in the ESPN cafeteria?

where is woj supposed to be exactly http://pic.twitter.com/K5QA7CbjEy

— Becca Laurie, PI (@imbeccable) July 1, 2017

Let me teach you how being on TV is done, folks.

tfw when you slide outta the office and into the weekend http://pic.twitter.com/2ExSrjHagK

— Dayana Sarkisova (@dsarkisova) June 30, 2017