Day 7: CP3 lookin' good (so far) for MVP

(Illustration courtesy of Fresh Doodle)

There's a girl I sit next to in one of my college courses. I'm not going to say which school I go to, which course this happens in or the name of the girl (because it honestly doesn't matter), but I think you're provided with enough information when I say that I sit next to this girl every two days without fail. I don't know this girl. I'm not trying to mack on her or run some game, which -- shocker -- I don't have much of. No, I literally am only sitting next to this girl because I'm a creature of habit. It's what I do: on the first day of each class, I scout out a seat that I feel has a relatively low toxicity of douchebags near it, and then I sit there. And I never change seats -- unless there's that awkward situation where some clueless simpleton takes my seat, not realizing that I've assigned myself that spot for the semester, which puts me in the bind of finding a new residence on the spot. But that's the exception. Mostly, when I find a seat, I never let go of it.

I think it dawned on me how peculiar this was. I'm sure if a psychologist got a hold of my brain, he/she could come up with 36 different reasons why I do this, but it occurred to me that this is basically what everyone does. If I so desired, I could map out the seating arrangement on any single day of this course, and by the end of the year, I bet the arrangement would be nearly identical.

So anyway, the only reason I'm sitting next to this girl is because on Day 1, I chose one of the few remaining open seats in class, which happened to be the one right beside her. We're like ships passing each other in the middle of the night, momentarily brought together by sheer coincidence. In a few weeks, when the class is over, we'll be out of each others lives and she'll never once think twice about me, who I was, what my name was, what celebrities I despised, etc. Even though I sit next to her all the time, I'm basically going to have absolutely no impact on her life.

She's a nice enough person, I guess. But... not really, if you know what I mean. Her body language is constantly screaming out the words: "For the love of god, don't talk to me. I'm not interested." I've only talked to her a few times, once because we were put together on a group project. And each time I've spoken to her, she hasn't even looked at me, and her voice would trail off in a clear sign of disinterest. At first I thought, "Wow, this chick is really friggin' rude," which she may very well be, because I know nothing about her. But at some point, I came to the conclusion that she wasn't being rude; not purposefully, anyway. She's not a social butterfly by any stretch of the imagination -- nor am I, in case you think I'm judging. Her voice is rather squeaky and she dresses like a wife out of some independent romance movie. I think it occurred to me that, to her, this is just what you're supposed to do. If she replies to me politely, she thinks she'd be signalling interest and would be giving me the license to flirt with her. So she just sits there, ruminating in her independence, unwilling to let me into her life even for three seconds, just in a conversation about a group project. Ships passing in the night, baby.

The reason I'm bringing this up is because I was struck with a thought the other day: what if, in an oblivious stupor, I actually did decide to flirt with her? What if I actually tried to get some sort of contact out of this clearly-off-limits chick? Oh my god would that be a disaster. And I know exactly how it'd go down, because I know how I'd think. I'd be sitting there as she'd be fiddling with her phone or something and I'd suddenly break out Small Tack Mode. "So, do you... uh... know when we have... uh... Thanksgiving break?" She'd just sit there, her expression not changing, her eyes still fixated on her phone. "I think it's online," she'd answer, giving me every hint in the world that I should focus my attention on someone else. But I'd try to roll with it. I'd be so stupid that I'd mistake her incredibly disinterested response as acknowledgement. "Oh, cool, because I'm really looking forward to some fun times this Thanksgiving," I'd say. She'd quietly mumble something, almost inaudibly. And the conversation would die a prompt death right there.

But I'd keep going. I'd be so hopeless, so in denial, that I'd be convincing myself that after enough cracks at her, I'd finally be able to discover some incredibly kinship between the two of us that would spur on a relationship. "So what are you interested in?" I'd ask one day. "Fantasy basketball..." She'd mumble, her eyes staring out into space. "Oh really?!?" I'd respond, a little too loudly. "Well, I just happen to manage a fantasy basketball blog. It's on the internet and everything." And she'd finally look at me, her eyes wide in wonder, her mouth in sheer astonishment. "Really?" she'd ask. "You love fantasy basketball too?" "Girl, fantasy basketball is my bitch," I'd never say, but it'd be fun to think about. "I fucking own fantasy basketball." And then she'd scribble down her phone number on one of the papers in my binder and look at me seductively. "I want you," she'd say.

Except she wouldn't. But that's totally how idiotic, 15-year-old me expected (or hoped) interactions with girls would go down. 15-year-old me would have thought, "Wow, this chick keeps sitting next to me! She totally digs me!", whereas current-day me is content to just sit there, quietly biding my time, day after day, until the end of the semester, at which point I'll never again see or even think of this person again.

But hey. Let's get to fantasy basketball, which is far more fulfilling than pursuing human contact with a person who'd be nonplussed if they found out you died tomorrow.

• Chris Paul has been an absolute monster of late. Yesterday, he totaled 23 points, 17 assists, 3 rebounds and 2 steals in a radically high-octane game against the Rockets, in which 255 points were scored. Paul is looking fantastic under new coach Doc Rivers and would probably be, if the season ended today (a week into the season), the league's MVP. Of course, some dude in Miami named LeBron James will have something to say to that as the year winds down.
• I forgot to mention Reggie Jackson yesterday, so let me just briefly touch on the Thunder point guard, who now goes to the bench as a result of Russell Westbrook's early return. I know some analysts are saying, "Oh, well you should still own him, because he can still have some value coming off the bench." But I don't see it. Jackson just doesn't have the impulse or aggressiveness needed to be productive off the bench. You can safely cast him aside if you find someone attractive on the waiver wire.
• Omri Casspi was tremendous off the bench for the Rockets, producing 19 points, 9 rebounds, 4 assists, 2 steals and 3 three's in 28 minutes. As thrilled as I am to see a fellow Jew do well in an NBA game, I hardly think this game should be viewed as a trend. Houston's starting lineup is too loaded, and with Francisco Garcia around, Casspi isn't even the first scoring option of the bench. And, it should noted that most of his points came at stages of an unnaturally high-scoring game when the Rockets were losing by double-digits. I'd like to be wrong here, but unless Parsons and Garcia fall down a well or something, there just isn't enough of an avenue for Casspi to put up decent numbers on a regular basis.
• Michael Carter-Williams had 18 points, 6 assists and 4 rebounds in a blowout loss to the Warriors. Some fantasy dudes are showing signs of concern, as Carter-Williams was never projected to be much of a scorer and he only shot 4-17 from the field last night. But I urge you, whoever you are, to just hold the course with him. Seriously folks: when 18-6-4 is considered a bad night, you're dealing with an absolute beast. The Sixers don't have a backup guard that anyone can name off the top of their head, he's the de facto leader of the team and he's going to play up to 35 minutes every single night. The dude came within a fraction of a quadruple-double in his NBA debut; there's no way in hell I'd be letting him go if I owned him.
• Andre Iguodala torched his old team, coming away with 32 points, 3 rebounds, 3 assists, 3 steals and 7 three's. Iggy has averages of 15-6-and-4 a week into the season and should remain a consistent stat producer the rest of the way.
• Stephen Curry triple-doubled the 76ers, getting 18 points, 12 assists, 10 rebounds, 5 steals and a block in just 29 minutes, while only committing 2 turnovers. He's exceptionally good at what he does for a living.
• C.J. Miles was solid off the bench for the Cavs, scoring 19 points on 8-13 shooting with 3 three's and 5 rebounds. Miles is as erratic a fantasy entity as there is and isn't to be trusted for any great length of time. However, he's not a bad streaming option at the moment, as Earl Clark has done very little to secure the Cavaliers' starting small forward spot.
• Vitor Faverani fell off in a big way Monday, scoring just 5 points in 28 minutes of action. That's back-to-back single-digit games from the rookie, who still has some value as a starter on a franchise that lacks many other scoring options. But I wouldn't get attached to him. Kelly Olynyk is likely to move into the starting lineup at some point, though I'm not exactly thrilled at his fantasy prospects either, honestly.
• There were only four NBA games yesterday, so I'm saved from making this post any longer than it needs to be.