Last night was Manu's game to win would he not have a spiral fracture in his hand that requires surgery to install more hardware than my complicated locking mechanism designed to protect my Takis stash.
The end of the Milwaukee game is where Manu does his best work, much like me and topographical maps.
School was pretty much Lord of the Flies on top of a fail salad for me, but one year, for about a week, I was introduced to topographical maps and I performed and analyzed those so well that I finally got the respect and admiration that I deserved from my peers. (I was home schooled).
Manu would have destroyed those last four minutes, leaving Stephen Jackson in a stupor, back to his regularly scheduled programming. Manu thrives for those moments, tight ball games, a measure of will and creativity--he is the artist who specializes in such blank canvases that are pregnant with violence. But he's out.
Closing out tight games is what he does. Imagine him in any other field or job and it just seems silly. Could he use this same jugular stomping physicality and genius in software design? Maybe during Christmas work-party karaoke--but at no other time. Or while managing a Denny's, could he break the hearts of so many people with a Grand Slam comp, due to a waitress's bad night due to over exhaustion from working at Denny's? Probably nuh-uh.
He was born for closing out games like that, much like I was born to gauge the canon fire subjugated with the land layout using battery only usable during the Napoleonic Wars, but I was born way too late, and he has not. He has to get healthy and has to stay injury free. Drink your Mootopia milk Manu. As you say in the HEB commercial, in your somehow getting-worse-by-every-year accent, "It's all part of the healing process."