When Duncan played, he always seemed so honest and low-key.
He always kept his hair cut very short, never styling it in any other way.
Just like the rest of him: honest and low-key.
But after he retired, it was as if Duncan had become a different person.
He completely let loose, trying all kinds of hairstyles.
Sometimes he'd style his hair to look like a field divided into square plots.
He'd even tie a little tuft in each square.
Sometimes he'd sport a cockscomb.
But more often, he wore little dreadlocks like a Predator.
Then he'd dye them all sorts of colors.
In short, he'd dyed them red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet.
Now, when Duncan saw his son sink a banked three-pointer from a 45-degree angle, he nodded.
Beside him,
French Sports Car Parker had come to watch the game from the sidelines today.
When the shot went in, he said to Duncan,
"Looks like your son inherited your skills."
Duncan looked proud.
"Of course. He's my own son."
Ginobili chimed in,
"Give him another two years to grow. I'm not expecting him to reach the heights you did, but if he gets even half as good, this proud uncle will be happy."
The game continued.
Both teams followed their pregame plans and played things out methodically.
The Spurs fed some of the ball to Little Duncan at the elbow, letting him finish the play.
Little Duncan was in excellent form today.
In the first ten minutes of the first quarter, he made five of his six shots.
He had completely outplayed Dauding on his own.
But the Raptors didn't double-team him.
Little Duncan was already quite good by the standards of the league's power forwards, but he wasn't at the point where he could single-handedly