And then there were the thunderous footsteps of the mighty Oden.   He arrived with more than just determination and skills; he came with confidence because of his brothers in arms.  

He had seen the leadership of Roy, had seen Brandon strike fear in the hearts of his opponents by simply touching the ball and looking into their eyes.  

He had watched Lamarcus launch seemingly feathered shots that tickled the bottom of the net and then crouch near the basket waiting to pounce with a vicious swat or a thunderous dunk.  

He knew Martell and Jones were lurking in the wings to drop daggers on the enemy like the steady drip of that faucet that won't quit.  

He saw Travis nearly salivating as he waited on the edge of the bench for his next chance to stuff the ball in the face of any hapless fool who ventured between him and the basket or elevate, limbs akimbo, towards the roof and throw DOWN a jumper.  

Jack and Blake nodded his way excited to see what could be done with so many more options.  

He had seen Sergio put out his cig and start running the floor shooting assists to whoever.  

Finally, with a non-foul, welcoming hug from the valiant and stalwart Przybilla, Oden began making opponents feign injuries so they could avoid the confrontations that would scar them, haunt their nightmares and make them question the existence of their manbacks.  

Book it.