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After each of the eight three-pointers he made Wednesday, the Magic's starting two-guard heard the roar of all fans in attendance.
Some folks believe the Magic's only seven-footer became the league's second-leading rebounder in 2012/13 via novice luck, but people who closely watch the team know he owes his success to a great deal of skill.
The NBA offered for sale Wednesday a sleeved replica jersey of this Magic forward. "Behold I, as a bro shirt," the player in question might have said.
Though he uses Instagram video now, one of the Magic's co-captains used to make glad Vines like this one.
Given that he guaranteed before training camp began that he'd make Orlando's final roster, the Magic big man who hails from Mount Dora has a lot of swagger. He could probably teach a lesson on mojo.
On occasions at once dignified and casual, it might be appropriate for the Magic's all-time assists leader to wear a solemner jean than usual.
If the highest-drafted Orlando rookie since Dwight Howard were a mathemagician instead of a pro basketballer, his assistant might introduce him by saying, "Voila! Doctor Pi!"
If Orlando's steady reserve point guard obsessively pressed his own clothes, one supposes that'd make him an ironin' creep.
Were Orlando's starting power forward to hoop with smoked salmon instead of a ball, a visitor from another planet might dub him an alien who jams lox.
(The author's internal monolog, for which he offers profuse and sincere apologies in advance)
"There was a Magic player whose first and last names resulted in very few anagrams?"
"Yes."
"That's quirky. How would you describe the results?"
"Bland."
"Where there any worth using?"
"No, none."
"I guess you should just see what adding his middle name yields and move on, no matter how awful the result is."
"I guess so."
This second-year power forward can score inside with such skill that, following each basket, his defenders long for a slow nacho dinner to suppress their sadness.
The Magic's starting small forward sometimes hears the stealthiest of jeers from samurai hecklers on the road.
If this reserve combo guard favored casting magical spell traps to battle his enemies in The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim--as opposed to using the sword-and-steel approach--you might say he'd be on Team Rune. Woo!
This former Kentucky Wildcat made 47.5 percent of his three-pointers in college, so the Magic should get him the almond orb when he's behind the arc.
The author of this post once ran over some cookware with his first car. It was a pan-van duel, and the auto won.