Trust "The Process"

By Jarrett Felix

A new season is a clean slate. Everyone starts from the same place. Hope springs eternal. Of course for the Sixers, hope hasn’t quite made it eternal. It’s capped out at a couple decades recently. And when Ben Simmons got injured before the season even began (darn you Lebron James and your superstar workouts!), my hope spring was down to months. I can’t get excited about anything without it breaking. I’m basically like that girl in finding Nemo who gets the fish and gets so amped about getting a fish that she shakes up the fish until the fish dies. I’m sorry Andrew Bynum. I’m sorry Nerlens. I’m sorry Joel. And I’m sorry Ben.

But despite the sadness, I couldn’t help going out to the fish store and looking at the fish that were swimming around, even if I didn’t want to buy one. Because maybe one day I would want to buy one, you know? And maybe this time I won’t kill it. OK, this metaphor is breaking down. I’m basically saying I still watched the Sixers because I can’t help it. They are my team and even if they stink, I still will inevitably find things to be excited about. And hopefully those things that I’m excited about don’t get injured.  

Flash to October 26^th, 2016. Enter Joel Embiid. We drafted him on June 26^th, 2014. Since we drafted him I paid rent for the first time. I ran a marathon. I got engaged. I ran another marathon. I got to the point in my life where I need to shave like once every three days. I’ve grown up. The whole fabric of my life has changed. A year after Joel Embiid was drafted, I interviewed Clayton Murphy. Before Embiid even played a game, Clayton Murphy won an Olympic medal?!

But I never fully gave up. Sometimes when I would talk to my friends I would say, “Yeah, looks like he’s another Greg Oden.” Or maybe I’d say, “Looks like we should have taken Aaron Gordon.” But I didn’t believe any of that crap. You think I want a dude with two first names instead of our Cameroonian man-child? No way. I watched the workout videos. I saw him dunking on dudes that were basically versions of myself in 20 years. I saw him dunking threw his legs. I saw him dunking donuts into his Shirley Temples and having to overcome weight issue rumors. And I loved it all. I believed the hype. I embraced the hype. Heck, I embraced the hype more than I embraced “Hype” by Drake, one of my favorite jams of summer ’16. And also fall ’16.

When I sat down to watch Joel play his first game last night, I was so giddy. I don’t mean giddy as an expression. This wasn’t some metaphorical or exaggerated giddiness. This was literal, authentic giddiness. I watched Joel come down the court and take a beautiful turn-around jumper from the free throw line and I giggled hard core. Like imagine a three-year-old child who is being tickled by one of their parents. That’s pretty much what happened to me, but instead of carefully utilized fingers it was carefully utilized footwork.

The dude looked like he could provide a legitimate rim protecting presence for us. I think the stat sheet only showed two blocks, but there was definitely some altering and intimidation going on. But I also really respected his hustle and his heart. Like after Gerald Henderson coughed up the ball at the end of the game, Embiid sprinted back up the court for a chase down block and nearly gave us another opportunity to go win the game. Then he almost got an and-1 that almost gave us another opportunity again!

In that moment I felt like a proud father. I’m not actually a father, but I imagine it’s what a proud father would feel like. Like imagine you had a son and he was walking down the street. The wind picked up and some guy dropped some trash on the ground near your son. He could easily just walk by the trash. It’s not his fault that dude couldn’t pick up that trash. It’s not his fault there were some winds in the air. But he goes back, picks up the trash and throws it in the trash can. Then you look at your son and smile. You think “I’m so proud of this boy … No … This man.” But you don’t say it out loud. You think he would find it weird. It’s a weird moment to feel proud of your son for I guess, but it’s just how you feel. So instead, you just say, “How about we grab some Rita’s Water Ice? It’s on me.” And then you enjoy some nice Rita’s Water Ice.

That’s basically exactly how I felt in that moment.

Of course, the Sixers still lost. Which is fine, I guess. But we looked like a team. We had a reasonably OK point guard. We had some dudes who could kinda shoot. We saw some flashes from our young guys. Nik Stauskas did some stuff. Turns out Hollis Thompson is still on the team.

OK, fine there wasn’t that much to be excited about. But this is all I have! Indulge me!