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“Sean, if the Cavs call to confirm that trade, tell ’em sorry, I had to go see about a girl.”
– Will Hunting
– Brian Windhorst
Poor Windy, man. Works his ass off day in and a day out. Been around these Cavs for half his life. Literally wrote the book on their season last year. Grinded his way to national prominence but still lives and dies by the Cavs beat. Goes on one vacation the entire year to eat a little pasta drink a little vino and tour the Colliseo and boom, he gets scooped by over an hour by the Prince The Was Promised, Young Shams God.
I mean just imagine Windy sitting there overlooking some beautiful Italian scenery with a nice glass of red and having some maitre d come up with the bat phone like “Dan Gilbert has called twice, Mr. Windhorst. Then running to the bathroom and burning international data on the bedet while trying to get the scoop, all while his wife starts banging at the door screaming “BRIAN YOUR MOTHER BETTER BE FUCKING DEAD BECAUSE IF I SEE YOU TOOK A BASKETBALL CALL FROM DAN GILBERT ON THIS VACATION I WILL SIGN THE FUCKING PAPERS TONIGHT!”
Poor, poor Windy. Man can’t catch a break. Except, you know, growing up in the same town as the greatest sports prodigy in human history. He caught that one.
How about Schefter with an absolute tomahawk facial? Lord have mercy.
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