Obviously, the soap would always compete. I imagine this would be evident in its cleaning and moisturizing capacity, and/or in some other characteristic currently envisioned only by a competitor in relentless pursuit of a competitive edge in soaps.
I booked a room near the beach and didn’t tell anyone I was in town. So Lamar had no idea I was only twenty minutes away when he called me at 2:00 A.M. from his new restaurant in Hollywood.
“I’m only twenty minutes away,” I told him, reluctantly. “What’s the case?”
“I think you’d better just come over,” he said.
Originally published October 16, 2013.
My pager buzzed. This was the pager I reserved exclusively for NBA jobs. I told Latrell Sprewell to keep the beer and found a payphone.
“Hello.” The voice was deep and gruff.
“This is Macadamia Charles,” I said. “Who’s this?”
“This is Glenn Robinson.”
I don’t often dress up for Halloween, but then I don’t often lose golf games to Charles Barkley either. In 2012, I did both.
Barkley’s a bit richer than I, so when we wager, the currency is humiliation. Before we played our annual game in September, he reminded me that we’d be sitting front row with Dr. Jack Ramsay at the Sixers’ season opener on Halloween. The loser, we decided, would have to attend the game dressed as Big Shot, the former Sixers mascot.