"Is Kyrie gonna join you guys in Minnesota?" the reporter asked as I inched closer to the Mini Van. I pulled into a little smirk and sarcastically responded, "I don't know who that is."
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It was the day after the All-Star game and one thing an NBA player can tell you about the break is, we're just as bored as the fans.
I'm lying in bed, fresh from my morning workout, and just scrolling through the comments on my YouTube videos.
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'How my man an NBA superstar but still make fire YT videos' I sneer at that and press like, only for my phone to drop on top of my face. I hate it when that happens.
'Jimmy on his grind just like in the NBA' 'Ain't even gonna lie, Jimmy editing skills dope'
'I learn more from Jimmy Butler's channel than I do in school' I laugh at this one, this kid is speaking facts. I'm a threat to the whole school system. I think about the different ways I would run the school system: The first period would be a cooking class, I'm obviously the best cook in the world. I have Gordon Ramsay shaking in his chef hat. I mean hey, my name is literally Butler.
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The second period would be teaching the art of dominoes. I love dominoes, my teammates hate it though. Probably because I keep beating them. Okay, now that was not sarcasm, I actually do beat my teammates all the time in the game. The third period would be basketb- My phone suddenly vibrates causing it to crash onto my face again, interrupting my thoughts.
I rub my sore nose and sit up, disoriented. I blink down at my vibrating phone, it's Kyrie. I think about not answering him, just to torment him, but I want to talk to him as well so I click to answer.
