They said I was crazy. They said my routine made no sense. They said that throwing 85-kilogram boulders up New Zealand mountains until my shoulder was raw would not translate into my success on a basketball court.
Yet here I am. On the brink of an NBA championship.
Did you see that bullet pass I threw to Roberson under the hoop? From half-court to the baseline in 0.22 seconds. It’s the fastest basketball throw ever recorded, according to NASA, whom I invited to the game because I had a feeling I would throw a bullet pass and I wanted scientists with really sensitive equipment to be there measuring it.
Look, if you go back in time and change my childhood to only two days per week of throwing boulders instead of seven, maybe my pass to Roberson gets there, maybe it doesn’t.
Actually it definitely would, because I also spent my days tossing sheep safely into piles of hay from great distances. This was all a rhetorical exercise.
Okay, I am going to go pull my mustache hairs out one by one now because I need to become immune to all forms of pain. Basketball is fun.