Fear and loathing on the bball court
I used to walk around the city wearing a homemade T-shirt (iron-on letters) that read: "First Round Draft Pick 1986." I had built a small rep for a small guy in parts and parks around Chicago. Very far from the greatest and nowhere close to the best basketball player, I was able to hold my own (or so I felt) against any other guard in the city not named Tyrone P. Bradley.
That was on the streets.
When it came to putting on a uniform and playing under the guidelines and ...
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