The $125,000 Flu

Yesterday, the Lakers once again were manhandled by a sub-par team in what was yet another embarrassing ass-whooping. But it's not the team's lack of focus against pretty much every team they have played against so far this year that I would like to discuss, nor am I going to bring up the fact that "The Show" has lost 9 of the last 11 against the juggernauts known as the "Charlotte Bobcats." What is really on my mind is Kobe Bryant's flu. If you are as obsessed with the Lakers as I am, you know by now that Kobe gets the flu every year around this time. He always plays through it, sometimes effectively, sometimes ineffectively, as was the case last night. I sat in bed next to my fiancee, who is dying of the flu herself, and watched Kobe sweat and run and jump for thirty minutes wondering how on earth a human could possibly do all of that while deathly ill. I had the same "flu" last week and was only a few hours away from slamming my head between the door and doorjamb of my bedroom, just to feel something else than the pain that was tormenting my entire body, including the soles of my feet. Teesha, my fiancee, cowering underneath the covers, inhaling gallons of Thera-flu watched in amazement as well, until finally she said, "Isn't that a little self-centered of him? Doesn't that put the whole team at risk?" I had never thought about Kobe's flu in relation to the rest of the NBA until that moment. But, after careful consideration, it seemed to me that not only does it put the entire Lakers players and staff at risk of becoming bed-ridden, but it also puts everyone on the court at risk of spending a week or so watching "I Love Lucy" reruns. Which brings me to my point. If it is legal for a player to play with the flu, then why don't we hire someone like, say me, to catch the flu before critical playoff matchups, play three minutes a game sneezing as much as possible on Manu, Dirk, CP3, Durant, and whoever else plans on dismantling our team, and watch as players check themselves out of the game, vomiting on the sidelines, tears in their eyes, fatigued, dehydrated, and crawling towards a bed and Ricky's sweet Cuban voice screaming "Luuuuccccyyyy!" I wouldn't even charge that much- $25,000 per virus, with a bonus for every series we win. It's kind of like when the St. Louis Browns hired that "little person" to play for them so he could get walked every time he was at the plate. I smell a "five-peat." ...and a new six figure salary.