Normally, I can't stand Skip Bayless

In this case, he's the lesser of two evils--the other being Milton Bradley, of course.

Good luck in Seattle, Milton. Without it, you're destined for an early retirement.

The Home Stretch: finishing that which you've started

Let’s say something was riding on you making a single layup—your sanity, for instance. You make it, you stay sane; you miss and you’re fucked. No one would stand in your way, either. You’d have a clear lane to the iron. What are the odds you’d make the bucket?

Let’s make it easier: the rim of the basketball hoop is only three feet off the ground and you’re six-one. You could stand over the cylinder, this orange mouth, holding the ball with two hands. All you have to do is let it fall. Nothing but net, right? How certain would you be in your ability to make the point-blank shot? Would your limbs shake? After all, your sanity’s at stake, here.

Perhaps, while taking a deep breath, the weight of anxiety would become too great and the ball would slip through your sweat-slick palms. Maybe you panic and try to catch the ball before it falls, accidentally batting it away. Nowhere close. Maybe you let go early and because you were in the middle of a deep breath, you’re no longer lined up with the cylinder, and the ball skips around the rim. The hollow sound of iron echoing within the sphere of inflated leather, laughing at your misfortune with each bounce—have you lost your mind, yet?

Or worse, maybe your focus remains intact. You stay calm, collected: you don’t even break a sweat. Confidence level is at an all-time high. You let go, but it’s an air ball. It’s not that you’ve missed the rim. No. The ball never drops. It hangs, waist-high, suspended between your open hands and the mouth of madness.

If you go insane, how aware would you be of your mental condition? There’s a good chance you wouldn’t remember having missed the shot. Wouldn’t it be worse to have made it and remember the moment you almost drove yourself mad? Wouldn’t you replay that scene over and over again? Wouldn’t your inability to get that memory out of your head drive you insane?