“I’m gonna eat her.”
Don’t eat the rando, Bill Walton.
“I could.”
Probably, yeah.
“She couldn’t play professional basketball. Not nearly large enough.”
No.
“Or college. Coach Wooden was the best basketball mind that’s ever lived, but I don’t know if even he could do anything with this young lady. Just doesn’t have the physicality.”
She would get lost in the paint.
“That’s where the giants do battle, at least they do in the Conference of Champions. Some of the other conference are candy-asses. She could play for one of those other conferences.”
You wear your preferences on your sleeve, Bill Walton.
“I’ve never been accused of being objective.”
Now, do you have a statue of you getting erected somewhere?
“Yes, it’s a huge honor. And a huge statue. Weighs 19 tons.”
How big is it?
“Life-size.”
Sure.
“Show the nice people my statue.”
It’s a little weird, Bill.
“That’s not it! Stop that! People were nice enough to make me a…wow.”
Right?
“I got nothing.”
No one does any more.
“Show the real statue.”
“Isn’t this great?”
How did you get down there?
“Don’t worry about it. Look at this? It’s such a wonderful honor and it’s also a WiFi hotspot.”
Artistic and practical.
“The best of both worlds. I’m so happy, and I proud. I wore my nicest bike shorts to the ceremony.”
Speaking of which: why is Statue Bill Walton wearing jeans? I don’t know much about riding bikes, but I know you don’t wear jeans to do it.
“Levi’s paid for the statue.”
Sure. Where are they putting it?
“Outside PetCo Park.”
Where the Padres play?
“Yeah.”
Why?
“I don’t know. I’m just happy to have a statue.”
God bless you, Bill Walton.
“Okay. You, too.”
Congratulations, Bill Walton.
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