Dear Sean Marks and Devin Brown,
OK. You got my attention.
Devin Brown. You, who some nights resemble nothing so much as the barreling and flailing personification of an offensive foul waiting to happen. You, who stole my beloved Mo Pete’s minutes in December. You, of the .150 three point shooting percentage. (I wonder how many nights like the Dallas game and last night you have to have to mathematically overcome 15% shooting? Even today it’s still sitting at .224.) I admit it: I laughed my ass off when mW turned to me in the third quarter and said, deadpan, “The alien who replaced Devin Brown is good.” All right? I admit it. While I’m in a confessional mood, I guess I should also admit that I yelled, “No!!” out loud when you took your third three… it went in. Just like the other two. Devin Brown hitting 6 of 7 shots, 3 for 3 from downtown?
I guess that makes me wrong. Well, it makes me wrong last night.
Where do we go from here, Devin Brown? That’s what I want to know.
I dunno. That was some pretty good shooting, I type as I grit my teeth. It really was. Maybe you should think about settling down, getting an apartment, and ending your capricious vagabond ways. Or, you know, don’t. Live in a hotel the rest of the year for all I care. I’ve given up trying to predict what you’ll do.
Sean Marks, Sean Marks.
I will be the first to say that I didn’t get what Byron Scott saw in you. Like, you are a backup backup big man off the bench. Period. We don’t have a lot of them. How come you shot so many long jumpers? Just ’cause you hit a three in your first floor time with the Hornets doesn’t mean we should make a habit of these things, right? Really all you have to do to help the team is be 6-10 and stand in the right spot. And oh lord, for the past month or so, the Sean Marks Experiment has not looked like it was working out.
And then at Minnesota you hit like every shot you took. Okay. I was wary. I defended you when the crowd unfairly booed you last week, but I was wary just the same. And then there was last night.
Sean Marks getting nasty athletic Block of the Night blocks, followed by a swaggering staredown? Well, all right then. It was like someone whispered in his ear that he didn’t have to turn himself into David West. He didn’t have to take every open 17-foot jump shot that came along. (I wept tears of joy last night when, just beyond the paint, Marks found himself with a long rebound. He held tight to it, froze… I held my breath and got ready to cringe… and then pivoted and whipped a pass to Peja in the corner, who promptly sank one.) Mr. Marks, you had a great night under the basket. It was probably your best game as a Hornet.
Whatever, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Marks. I’m onto you now.
Aw, you know I’m kidding, right? You know I love my team.
P.S. I have some messages to pass on to the rest of the dudes, if that’s OK. Tell Chris no one blames him for not being superhuman every night. Tell Hilton we’re proud of him. Tell AD he’s the best cheerleader we’ve ever seen and we’re 100% happy to have him with us. Tell Peja thanks for being rock solid in these dark times, and Mo that we hope his foot gets better soon. Oh, and tell Pose that if you’re cracking up while running up the court after missing your fifth three pointer of the game, taking that sixth one is probably not such a hot idea.