Kyrie Irving

I wonder if he’s lying in bed, his wife reading silently under her lamp, worrying about adding an eighth straight tomorrow night.

I wonder if he’s on his treadmill, Bluetooth headset in, hopeful that Riley will return his third message. 

I wonder if he’s eating a late dinner, being chatty with the waiter, reminding him we’re starting to get used to Jay’s system – it’s going to turn around.

I wonder if he’s online, reading the things we’re saying, shaking his head at how little we really understand.

I wonder if he’s got his feet up, in the midst of a closed-door brainstorm, desperately trying to stop the bleeding.

I wonder if he’s alone at his desk, staring at his Executive of the Year trophy, and thinking: “Help.”

I wonder if he’s peacefully sleeping, dreaming of Italy.

I’m just SO curious, ’cause I know what I’m thinking.