The man was bored. And who could blame him?
He was the best basketball player on the planet, possibly the best ever. Game after game he would go out, hang double digits on his opponent, and call it a night. Yawn.
So tonight, he was doing something different. He was going to have some fun.
He stood at the free throw line, ball in hand and singled out the best player on the other team.
“This one’s for you, Mutombo,” he taunted before draining the free throw, eyes closed.
For mere mortals, it was a jaw-dropper.
For him, a Saturday.
The Weekday One Hundred 