Dear, dear Derek:
I’m sorry. I’m sorry that throughout most of the season, I have had such little faith in you. At least we don’t shout “NO!” when you try a three.
I’m sorry that I grumble when Brooks puts you in a game.
I’m sorry that you’re turning 40 soon, but mostly just for you.
Tonight’s game was glorious, and I definitely didn’t know you had it in you. It shocked and amazed, in a very good way. You impressed me, which is hard to do. You were on point.
Keep bringing your A game, and maybe I’ll want you on the court more. I promise to stop being surprised when you play well…