“No layups!” is a constant refrain in the NBA playoffs, but rarely does it so directly determine the outcome of a game. Jason Kidd may be 38 years old, but he still lives that shit, delivering a double-armed takedown of Wade on a breakaway. Wade couldn’t get the easy two, and then, still shaken by the J-Kidd collision, missed one of his two subsequent free throws. Maybe he thought Kidd was going to throw a cookie at him?
Kidd reached deep for the strength to foul this hard. He thought of his jealousy, when Jim Jackson stole Toni Braxton. He remembered the white-hot rage of Alonzo Mourning when he attacked Kenyon Martin for making fun of his bad kidney. He thought of the stupid face Keith Van Horn made every time he thought he was fouled, and how infuriating that was. But mainly, he remembered growing up on the mean
streets boulevards of the Oakland Hills, going to prep school on the hardscrabble island of Alameda, and how it felt during college, when his favorite Berkeley cafe ran out of the organic tabouleh, and he had to eat his falafel with the regular kind. And all that resentment turned into pure aggression that denied Dwyane Wade’s dunk attempt.
THE EAST BAY SAYS “NO LAYUPS!” AND START COMPOSTING ALREADY!
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