The NBA All-Star Draft: A Play of Internal Monologue in Two Acts
- Joshua Covell
- Jan 22, 2018
- 6 min read
As we’ve previously written, this year’s All-Star Game selection process is a bit different. The starters were chosen by a combination of fan, media, and player voting, and the leading vote-getters in each conference (East’s LeBron James and West’s Steph Curry) will serve as captains and will pick players, regardless of conference, to play on their team. They will draft, with the leading vote-getting picking first in round one, and the other picking first in round two; in round one, the captains must first choose among the remaining starters (a bit anticlimactic, drama-wise), then moving on to the pool of 14 reserves in round two. Those reserve players are chosen by the coaches in each conference, which will be revealed later this week. It will be interesting to see which players the coaches select as reserves, but the real story is about which players end up on which teams, and why.
Here is a dramatic interpretation of that story, told through the internal monologues of the teams' captains.
THE CAST
EAST
Starters
Uncle Drew
Kobe-lite
The Greek Freak
LeBron (captain)
The Process
Reserves
G: Dipo
G: Beal
F: Horford
F: Kristaps
F: Drummond
WC: Lowry
WC: Love
[Playwright’s Note: Tertiary characters exist in this world, including Goran Dragic, John Wall, and Kemba Walker, but those characters, I have found, are not worth including in a main stage production. Dragic, I would argue, is less a standout character and more of an ensemble member in a magical production put on by Erik Spoelstra. Wall has underperformed, and audiences have generally found the character to be unlikable. And Walker, though full of heart, is part of a largely disappointing story arc.]
WEST
Starters
Steph (captain)
The Beard
KD
The Brow
Boogie
Reserves
G: Russ
G: Jimmy G. Buckets
F: LMA
F: KAT
F: PG
WC: Dame
WC: Sweet Lou
[Playwright’s Note: The West cast ballooned up to as many as 16 characters, but for the sake of narrative clarity, I have decided to cut the following: Chris Paul, Devin Booker, Klay Thompson, Nikola Jokic, Blake Griffin, and Draymond Green. Paul disappeared for too many scenes, so he became undeserving of his time on stage. Booker is a true wild card, but his electric performances were really in service of nothing. Thompson was overshadowed by his fellow cast members. Jokic didn’t connect with audiences enough. Griffin was an audience favorite, but the directors considered him to be abrasive and irredeemable. And Green distracted from the larger story and his strengths weren’t befitting a production of this kind.]
ACT ONE
[In darkness, “Round One” is projected in red on a black backdrop. The lights come up. All characters are on stage, talking softly and looking restless. LEBRON, having received the most fan votes, is given the first pick in the draft. He stands stage right, confident and measured. His internal monologue plays in voiceover. STEPH, standing stage left, looks on. The other characters are scattered downstage, on a lower level.]
LEBRON: I said that I wanted to actually try in this year’s game, and while that’s true, I’m playing the long game. Steph, I know you’re a competitor, and you’re prone to tantrums, so I’m hoping to use that fiery passion to my advantage. [Points to KD.] I have the strongest warrior [chuckles to himself] to go up against you. I will whisper into his ear a reminder: that you didn’t need him to win a championship. It will fill him with rage, and he will take it upon himself to guard you. It will cause imperceptible fissures in your chemistry. You’ll see.
STEPH: You’re so obvious. You took the best player available and my best teammate. Shocker. That’s fine. He’s not the only one who’s better than you, old man. [Points to THE GREEK FREAK.]
LEBRON: I will overwhelm you with size and athleticism. You are an ant beneath my boot. [Points to THE BROW.]
STEPH: You got size. Okay. So how about I hit you with shooting and ball handling? Can’t stop this slippery bitch. [Points to THE BEARD.]
LEBRON: I’m playing three-dimensional chess now, you simpleton. I know you either want to pick Uncle Drew because you know he’ll play his butt off against me, or you want me to have to take him over Kobe 0.5 with my last pick. You want him upset that he’s on my team and my last starter by default. You want him fighting me. You want division. But I steal your thunder. [Points to UNCLE DREW.]
STEPH: You son of a bitch. What game are you playing? Whatever you think you’re doing, it won’t work. I control the board now, and I’m well aware that you’re trying to work a deal to get this guy before the trade deadline. Not on my watch. [Smiling smugly and chewing on a mouthguard, points to BOOGIE.]
LEBRON: We’re in designer clothes, so the mouthguard, I must admit, took me by surprise. But you played your gambit too early, silly child. I have the power. I see your moves before you even think of them. [Points to THE PROCESS.]
STEPH: [Throws mouthguard at LEBRON out of frustration. It bounces off of him but he doesn’t flinch. Points to KOBE-LITE.] Whatever. Now the real game begins. [Pulls another mouthguard out of his pocket to chew on.]
[Lights fade to black.]
ACT TWO
[“Round Two” is projected in red across the backdrop. The lights come up. The stage is silent. Everyone is staring at LEBRON. His eyes dart all around, and the fingers on his right hand flicker about feverishly in the air, as if entering digits into a old timey accountant’s calculator mounted on the wall in front of him. After some time, the other characters begin to look at one another, concerned.]
STEPH: [Eventually] Umm...what the fuck is happening? Is he alright? He’s been doing that for like fifteen minutes. [Points to JIMMY G. BUCKETS.] The LeBron-stopper. Yes, please.
LEBRON: [Finally breaking from his trance, points to PG.] I plant the seed for a move to the Lakers. I befriend a former rival. I am the puppet master and you are all my marionettes. Witness my grand orchestration. Dance for me. Dance! [In voiceover, he laughs maniacally, but he remains expressionless.]
STEPH: I’ll take another skilled big. Trying to avoid Russ. No interest in that ball hog. [Points to KAT.]
LEBRON: [Points to RUSS.] You fool. You’ve fallen into my trap. I wanted Russ all along. He hates you and would do anything to defeat you. Since he mended things with KD last year, I will help them rediscover their love of playing together, further poisoning your relationship with him and culminating in another Finals collapse. [A blood vessel bursts in LEBRON’s left eye.]
STEPH: You can have Russ. Good luck with that. I’m sure KD will love it. [Points to DAME.]
LEBRON: [Blood trickling from his nose now] I spoke with Love weeks ago. I gave him a heads up that I would be taking him, but later in the draft, to put all the pieces in place. He understood, and he didn’t seem hurt when I said that I had to take a raincheck on hanging out because I was going to dinner with the rest of the team. He knows his place and does exactly what I tell him. [Points to LOVE.]
STEPH: Another skilled big for me, thanks. Good luck getting a shot off. [Points to KRISTAPS.]
LEBRON: [The trickle of blood has turned into a stream, but LEBRON refuses to blot it.] I erase all doubt and maximize your potential! You will obey me! I instruct you to elbow Steph in the mouth at the end of the first quarter, which will ingratiate you to Russ, uniting us against a common enemy! [Points to DIPO.]
STEPH: I want a shooter. [Points to BEAL.] Hmm, I wonder who I can stick you with for the last pick. [Counts remaining characters on his fingers.]
LEBRON: [His whole body begins to convulse and he sweats profusely; thunder crashes and the lights flicker. Pointing to LMA] I read your mind. I absorb the secrets of Popovich and they become mine. You are a conduit through which I expand my understanding of basketball. I am the perfect realization of a Mon-star.
STEPH: Damn, slim pickins now. Duck, duck, duck, you! [Points to LOWRY.]
LEBRON: [Levitating off of the ground] I see all! I exist in past, present, and future simultaneously! [Points to SWEET LOU.] I will pass to you in the left corner, Sweet Lou, and you will hit the go-ahead three over Steph! [Reaching for the sky, electricity shoots from his fingertips.] The future is of my own design! I have taken your free will now, Steph. You exist only because I allow it. You shall pick Drummond.
STEPH: I’m gonna stick you with Drummond. He can’t shoot for shit, so he’s basically useless in this game. I’m making him your problem, “King.” [Cracks knuckles, points to DRUMMOND. After a beat] Aww shit! [Throws mouthguard at LEBRON, but this time it passes right through him.]
LEBRON: [A spotlight shines on LEBRON and he floats upward, out of view. The sound of wailing, tortured souls fills the room. In a booming, god-like voice] Thy will be done!
[The wailing stops. Cut sharply to black.]
THE END
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