Marvin Williams 30 Points/7 Threes Full Highlights (3/8/2019)

"Um, Mr. Williams?" said one of the ballboys in a tentative voice.

Marvin Williams smiled kindly at him as he got ready to change out of his street clothes into his game jersey. "What's up?"

The ballboy still seemed nervous; he looked down at the floor as he talked rather than directly at the person he was addressing. "Um, MJ said he wants to see you in his office."

A brief jolt of panic went through Marvin. Had he been traded? Then he remembered that the trade deadline was long passed, and he was back at ease, although still slightly confused. "MJ? Michael Jordan? You sure?"

The ballboy nodded vigorously. "Right away, he said."

The jersey which was in Marvin's hands was hung back up in his locker. Instead, he got out his wallet. "Thanks, Kid. Here's a twenty. If I still have a job after this meeting, you'll get another one."
--
Marvin knocked lightly on Michael's door, which was slightly ajar.

"Come in," came the voice from inside, so Marvin pushed open the door and entered. Nothing was visibly amiss; Michael was just sitting at his desk, looking at his computer screen, as if he was just a normal owner and not basketball's greatest-ever player. "Thanks for coming by, Marvin."

"Uh, thanks for having me," Marvin replied. Over time, he had gotten accustomed to conversing normally with Miachel, even though being in proximity to such greatness was still intimidating at times. "What's up?"

Michael ran his hands over his bald head. "My barber does a great job," he said in an offhand way. "So smooth. So smooth. It's like I never had hair up there at all."

Marvin nodded, but was confused. There was no way that this meeting could only be about Michael's freshly-shaved head.

"You wanna feel it?" Michael asked, taking his hands off his head and leaning forward across the desk. "Come on, man," he continued when he sensed his player's hesitation. "Feel my head. Feel its smoothness."

Feeling like it would be unwise to refuse an invitation from MJ, even if it was a very strange invitation, Marvin extended his hand palm-out and placed it on the offered head. Immediately, a electric sensation, like a bolt of lightning, jolted up his arm and through his entire body. Involuntary, he yanked his hand away as he was thrown back into his seat.

"Thanks for stopping by, Marvin," Michael said, turning back to his computer as if his own head had not just administered a tremendous shockwave to Marvin. "You're gonna do great out there tonight."

Marvin shakily got up from his seat. "I'll try my best," he said. As he let himself out of the office, he wondered if there was more to Michael's words than he was letting on. Marvin's right hand was still tingling, and he stood there in the hallway, staring at it. What had just happened?

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