To LeBron James, who appeared in my dream last night:
Good to see you! However, was it necessary to throw that in-bound pass deliberately out of my reach and make me dive on the floor for it in such a humiliating way?
And later, when you passed me a softball instead of a basketball, that was pretty funny, but when I sank it from half-court, did you have to laugh and say, “Doesn’t count! Not a basketball!”? Why couldn’t we stick to the normal rules and equipment of the game?
Also, what were you doing coaching my junior high team? You’re one of the greatest NBA players ever, so why would you want to go back in time to South Paris, Maine, in my unconscious, and embarrass a middle school kid in front of his peers?
Your pal,
Tim
P.S. Hope to see you soon in another dream. And next time, let’s play some real one-on-one, you big pussy.