Bleacher Report

Behold, the Hero Cometh

The true story of Lance Stephenson

You only remember the time he blew in LeBron’s ear, huh?

You are so naive.

There are mysteries of the universe you couldn’t possibly imagine. We are but specks on a speck against the infinite backdrop of limitless space. I went to an observatory once and heard a lecture on planets that might replace Pluto as our solar system’s ninth batter. I couldn’t process it. Light years and gravitational power pictures sent from satellites from ten years in the past (or the future…I’m not sure, I was overwhelmed so I tried to eat the skittles I brought as quietly as possible and may have missed some things).

Lance Stephenson was in the NBA for a while. Then he left. Now he’s back. I wasn’t sure how long he had been gone. Was he injured? (yes) Was he blackballed? (sure) Did he start an underground dance troupe? (maybe) Lance Stephenson is back, playing for the team we most identify him with — the Indiana Pacers. Lance belongs in Indiana. He is the Mercutio to Paul George’s Romeo. George recently questioned the desire and dedication of his teammates. That is not a Romeo move. PG needs to lovingly hoist jumpers and lustfully attack the lane. He doesn’t need to fire shots. Enter Lance.

Tuesday evening the Indiana Pacers and Toronto Raptors played a game of basketball. The Raptors are comfortably in the upper half of Eastern Conference playoff teams. The Pacers are tied with Miami and Chicago for the final playoff spot. They will win that final spot. They will do battle with the Cavaliers in the first round of the playoffs. They will do so because Lance isn’t here for any nonsense. On Tuesday evening the Pacers were wrapping up a victory when Lance finished a simple layup in the final seconds. Your dad hated it. Trust me. Busch league! Tasteless! Classless! (All this happened one week after the Wizards got pissy because the Warriors beat them like a folksy southern rug) P.J. Tucker, who probably swims with sharks (the sharks are the ones in the cages for their safety), confronted Lance after offending layup. Lance didn’t blink. He doesn’t care. Lance isn’t here for any nonsense. He hasn’t been here for nonsense since the beginning of time.

Lance Stephenson is a beautiful cosmic regularity. He is a comet that blazes across league pass when we need him most. Shockingly he has been doing so across the annals of history and through the dimensions of myth and fiction. When I went to that observatory I fell asleep and received a vision. I didn’t understand it at the time but now the vision makes sense. Time and space are relatives, like cousins or something, so the vision works.

Look through my heart eyes, at the truth of who and what Lance Stephenson is.