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- “No fucking way you were better than Schilling, Sledge!” gasped Shane. He was gawping incredulously at the flat screen above the bar, palms on his head. ESPN had just released their list of the top seventy-five NBA players of all-time. They had me at 21. One in front of Shawn Schilling. “He won three MVPs!” yelped Shane. “What’d you win? A couple measly rebounding titles?”
- “Ten,” I said. “But who’s counting?”
- “No one!” said Shane. “It’s a travesty.”
- “I agree.”
- “You . . . wait . . . what?”
- “I agree. Whoever wrote the list is full of shit. I shouldn’t even be on it.” Shane stared at me with his mouth open, looking disappointed. He wanted the argument.
- “But . . .”
- “Shawn got me into the league,” I said. “He hired the lawyers, made the big stink in the media. Without him I’d still be in prison. He was a superstar. I was just out there to protect him. Whoever wrote that list is an asshole trying to rile up dumbasses like you. And it’s working.”
- -Sledge vs. The Labyrinth, pg. 54-55
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