Last night, the Milwaukee Bucks played the Detroit Pistons at the Little Caesars Arena. Langston Galloway of the Pistons collided with the Bucks’ Giannis Antetokounmpo on the way to the basket, breaking his fall by rolling up into the stands. He landed square in the lap of a gentleman drinking a stadium cup of beer, and that man, as you can see, continued to drink his beer with Galloway on top of him.
I know in my bones that this man is (forgive the internetism) extremely me. And I have a good feeling that you are all this man, too.
Perhaps for you, it’s not a beer. Perhaps it’s a glass of bubbly, or a hot cocoa, or a cupcake with a precarious, teetering mountain of frosting. Anything that brings you simple pleasure.
And maybe Galloway isn’t the one crashing into you at high speed. Maybe it’s a crush, or a looming deadline, or a friend’s drama, or any of the countless obligations of adulthood. Your children. Your novel. Your mortality.
Whatever your beer and whatever your Galloway, surely we can all relate to this brushing aside of life’s unpleasantries as we strain instead toward our tasty treats, unwilling and unable to be pulled away from the distraction of their siren song.
We are all this man. Cheers to him and to his little sip.