Game don’t recognize game, folks.

Consider this question with your morning bowel movement (I wouldn’t waste time on it if you’re doing anything else): What does Draymond Green have to gain from shitting on Paul Pierce? What am I missing here? Even Orwell didn’t foresee this kind of dystopia.

Pierce has given his two weeks’ notice and started coming into work in his underwear and Birkenstocks. He’s locked in his pension, he’s been handed his gold watch for service time. He’s suffered the slings and arrows of a lengthy career and he’s looking to transition smoothly into golf spikes and pending bankruptcy.

Draymond hasn’t been given stock options, much less a watch, and, despite his early career numbers, he’s got a lot of work to do and about eight all-star games to make before he’s qualified to polish Pierce’s 9-iron.

To be clear, I don’t like Paul Pierce either. He sent the Raptors home with a cheeky floater in Game 7 and stole my innocence, so I’ll never forgive the bastard. But Jesus Christ, how long did it take him to rifle through the mental inventory of his career (which can buy its own beer in Toronto by the way) and decide that this feud would end with Green crying and peeing in the corner? Not long, I’m sure. Perhaps about as long as Green has been relevant in the NBA.

Green says that Pierce won his ring on the backs of Kevin Garnett and Ray Allen. 

What kind of half-mad bullshit are you trying to pass over on us Draymond? 

This is a guy who won a ring on the same payroll as TWO Ray Allens (pipe down, I know they’re not Ray Allen) against Lebron James and four marionettes. You know who the Celtics drew in the 2008 Finals? A deep Kobe Bryant-led Lakers squad that would win rings the next two years. Green’s only responsibility prior to getting a starter’s role in 2015 was waving a sweat rag around like an idiot when one of his teammates dunked or blocked the ball.

I don’t know why fans are standing for this hot ring of garbage.

But maybe I’m the asshole. Maybe the worst is yet to come in this sorry tale of the NBA. I just wish there was a way to know you were in the good old days when you were still in them.