Zach Randolph sat in a small boat, carefully watching the bobber drifting with the waves.
At the other end of the boat, Link marveled at the thick fog that reduced visibility to less than fifty meters.
"The fog is really heavy this year, Zach." Link looked around. The mist made the place look like the Heavenly Palace from the Journey to the West TV show he had watched as a kid.
"Shh, you're going to scare the fish away." Randolph looked utterly serious.
"Give me a break. You could catch fish here with your eyes closed. It's a fucking man-made lake." Link rolled his eyes at Randolph.
"Damn it, don't you know how to comfort an injured teammate?"
"Comfort my ass. You have to come to the game tomorrow. It's the playoffs—we need to be together."
Only one day remained before the start of the playoffs. As always, Link and Randolph had gotten together to fish before the postseason began.
At the mention of the game, Randolph put down his fishing rod and sighed. "This is my first time missing the playoffs because of an injury... Damn it, getting old really does make you useless."
"Missing them? As long as we're together, nobody's missing anything. Besides, I promised you I'd take the Memphis Grizzlies to the top. Everything you've wanted to see will happen this year."
As he spoke, Link patted Randolph's solid shoulder.
"Fine, then you should think about how you're going to deal with Anthony Davis without me."
"Damn, you make it sound like you could handle Anthony Davis when you were around. That guy's a superstar in the making. He's built like a center, moves like a small forward, and has great skills and a soft touch. You sure you can deal with him?" Link grinned teasingly.