The Secret Life Of Rashard Lewis

When I started this blog in the mid-50s, steroids weren't even an issue. Athletes drank whiskey instead of Gatorade and smoked cigars at the plate and WE LIKED IT THAT WAY. But then as the Cansecos and Estalellas of the world started popping up, I said, "I'm not touching this." Lots of talk about bacne - didn't want anything to do with it. But then Rashard Lewis tests positive and the world gets confused and doesn't know what to say and I need to be the one at the party, when no one's talking, to clear my throat and demolish all awkwardness by saying, "Let's get this party started."

I mean, maybe nobody's talking about this because everyone realizes this is a fluke. Steroids in basketball aren't "a thing." But even if this isn't the beginning of some huge series of revelations about steroids in basketball, it is another weird thing about Rashard Lewis. So many notches on his "weird stuff about me" bedpost. Recap: named after Ahmad Rashad, was in the draft green room and didn't get picked until the second round, that chin thing he had going on last year, and now this. But the weirdest thing is probably his game. What are we supposed to make of a 6'10 power forward with no inside game who hangs around the 3-point line? The answer's pretty clear: he's from the future.

Obviously, he was a below average player in 2035, got his hands on a time machine and travelled back to the 90s to play high school ball and enjoy some of the hottest jams ever. In the future they just implant knowledge chips into your head, so he arrived before the one-year-of-college rule was put in place because college would be so boring to a man who knows everything. And in the future, everyone on the court can play every position. They're athletic, they can go outside and drive, they consider Manu Ginobli their Jordan. This is starting to make more sense. Plus, if Bill James is right, everyone in the future is going to be totally down with steroids.

Until he admits it, there's no way of knowing this for sure, but when he lives until he's 150 and everyone in 2035 is rocking some Pharaoh-looking chin-hair, I'll be nodding my head slowly with a smug grin and you all can bring me gifts and maybe I'll forgive you for doubting me.