F!
F! F! F! F! F! F! F! F! F! F! F! F! F! F! F! F! F! F! F! F! F! F! F! F! F! F! F! F!
Having been a Jazz fan as long as I’ve been watching basketball, aka never having been a Rockets or Grant Hill fan, I don’t know how to deal with a potentially major injury. The last significant Jazz injury was ten years ago–and I was less involved because there wasn’t so much info/audio/videos available on the Internet then. I just watched the game recap video on nba.com. When DWill went down, my heart stopped and plummeted all the way to the ground.
80% in denial and 20% in can’t-breathe panicky panic panicson mode.
Opening night with the lights out, the music pounding, the arena rocking, and DWill in street clothes? I cannot even entertain the possibility of entertaining such a thought.
And now comes the long, interminable wait to find out how bad it is.
Heal Deron heal.
