Troy and Casey return: Casey's Swan Song

Troy Weaver praises Dwane Casey; begins search for head coach

***3:00 AM Troy Weavers House***


(Troy Weaver sleepily reaches over and grabs his phone. He sees a number with a Florida area Code)

Troy: (He mumbles to himself, annoyed ) "Why is he calling me at this time of night??!! I already told him don’t nobody want no Tyler Herro…

(Answers the phone)

Troy: "Riles..look man, I told you we’ve already reached our quota of white boy that can shoot and....."

Masked Voice on the other end: "Snitches get Stitches."

Troy: "..What?!"

Masked Voice on the other end: "Ain’t no coke coming through here unless Daddy get a taste"

Troy: "..Pat, This isn’t funny. That’s not even real prison lingo…"

Masked Voice on the other end: "Did you think I wouldn’t find out?"

Troy: "..Huh?...wait…who is this..?"

Masked Voice on the other end: "I should have known. You ARE the only man in the world dumb enough to pass on Poku twice, after all."

Troy: "It's...It's….It’s YOU!"

Masked Voice on the other end: "Allegedly."

Troy: (Panicking, voice shaking) "Hey man, look…I already did what you asked…I tanked hard and I drafted Cade and we just took Ausar…"

Masked Voice on the other end: "I left you a little present. Take a peak behind you."

(His blood running cold,Troy reaches behind him and gets a handful of cotton stuffing. He slowly pulls back the covers to reveal..... HOOPERS DECAPITATED HEAD!!!)

Troy: "AAAHHHHH!!!!!"

Masked Voice on the other end: "Heh heh heh, Dumars sends his regards"


Masked Voice on the other end: "A Wise…Man.... once said ,you have to CUT..... the head off of the snake to kill it."

Troy: "…no no no NO..not my sweet honey baby!! ANYTHING BUT THAT!!!!"

Masked Voice on the other end: "…Funny thing, those Michigan winters…"

Troy: "Whu...Huh?!"

Masked Voice on the other end: "…All that sleet and snow….and fans just track it right into the arena. I can only imagine how slippery those steps get in LCA…good thing people use the hand rails going to their seats….I mean..people just walk up and down them all the time…be a real shame if anybody were to decide know..cut a rug on those in the middle of one of those boring Tuesday night games in February…."

Troy: "Wait… don’t mean …?!"

Masked Voice on the other end: "…Waive Wiseman first thing in the morning, or everybody’s favorite little Dancing Usher juuuuusssssstttt might meet with an unfortunate accident…I never know with those Michigan winters amirite?!!" (Click)............................"The number you have called is currently out of service. Please hang up and dial the number again"

(Troy, Horrified! Frantically dials a number!)

***James Wiseman’s House****

( A Cell Phone Rings, and a huge hand attached to an impossibly long pterodactyl arm reaches over and grabs it)

Wiseman: (Half asleep) "..hel…hello…?"

Troy: "SWEET HONEY BABY!!!! OH…thank god…"

Wiseman: "Mr. Weaver? …what time is it…"

Troy: "3 AM, but that’s beside the point, you ok? Are you hurt?"

Wiseman: "What?! No, I’m fine Mr. Weaver…what’s going on?"

Troy: "Oh, nothing to worry your pretty little head over. Now, how’s Daddy’s Sweet Honey Baby? Did you get a good nights rest?"

Wiseman: "Yeah, I’m fine, Look.. Mr. Weaver…please,...just call me James, ok?"

Troy: "Non-Sense, Sweet Honey Baby!!! And what’s with all this Mr. Weaver stuff? I told you, you can call me Daddy!"

Wiseman: "We’ve been over this with HR already. That’s inappropriate and it makes me uncomfortable…"

Troy: "Awww Sweet Honey Baby!! Whose making you uncomfortable??!!! Tell Daddy everything and I’ll take care of it right away!!!

Wiseman: (Face palms) "Look…it’s late..and I’ve gotta get up in an hour to practice my left hand jump hooks in the lane…"

Troy: "Ohhhh, right, right ,right, right , right, You gotta get your rest Sweet Honey Baby, sleep tight…."

Wiseman: " I will."

Troy: "Don’t let the bed bugs bite…"

Wiseman: " I won’t"

Troy: ".........."

Wiseman: ".........."

Troy: ".........."

Wiseman: ".........."

Troy: ".........."

Wiseman: ".........."

Troy: "......Need me to tuck you in? I can be over in 10 minutes?"

Wiseman: " Mr . WEAVER!"

Troy: "Ok, sorry, sorry, sorry , that was a bit too far I know, I’m working on it Sweet Honey Baby"

Wiseman: " I know Mr. Weaver. It’s fine"

Troy: "Good Night…."

Wiseman: " Good night, Mr. Weaver"

Troy : (still breathing on the phone)

Wiseman: "Is there anything else Mr. Weaver?"

Troy: (Awkwardly) ..No…well..kind of..I mean..I just..I want to say…Let the record show…I LOVE Big Guys..if you…get my meaning.."

Wiseman: (Takes the phone off his ear and silently curses to himself) "Yes, I got it. Thank you Mr. Weaver"

Troy: " What I’m trying to say is…well.. I…uh…I Love you!"

Wiseman: (Sighs deeply) …Goodbye Mr. Weaver."

Troy: " hang up fir…(Click)"

Wiseman: ".................."

(Stares at the ceiling for a few seconds.)

Wiseman: ".................."

Wiseman: ".................."

Wiseman: "No way I’m getting back to sleep after that."

(He gets up to go to his workout early

*** 10 Minutes later ***

(James Wiseman casually strolls out of his house and toward his car, wondering to himself how he simultaneously got cursed with such a weirdo obsessive GM and Blessed to somehow still have an NBA Job. He clicks on his key ring to unlock his car door when…)


Wiseman: (Falls over and yells in shock) AAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!

(He stares in horror as what was once his Brand new SUV is now a flaming pile of wreckage! Unbeknownst to him, an all black Sedan with tinted windows and Florida license plates, slowly pulls away with the head lamps off.)

The man behind the wheel of the sedan (Allegedly): "Crap. I jumped the gun. Next time…."



*** Monty Williams Office at the Pistons Practice center ***

(Monty Williams and Stephen Silas are huddled around a monitor watching defensive possessions from Summer League)

Monty: " Wait…stop. Back it up…right…about….THERE!"

Silas: "Here?"

Monty: "Yup. Did you see it?"

Silas: "Umm..noooo…? ......Wait!"

Monty: "Haha! Yup!"

Silas: "Oh my god! How does he even know how to do that??!! I had four year players last year that couldn’t make that read!"

Monty: "I know right?!!!"

Silas: "Wow. How in the world are we gonna justify not starting this kid??!!"

Monty: "Maybe we won’t have to."

Silas: "How so? I thought Troy said the Bojan trade fell through?"

Monty: "I mean…it’s not like Bojan’s never come off the bench before in his career…."

Silas: (Slow realization comes across his face) "No….you wouldn’t…you don’t mean…?"

(Both men grin at each other)

Monty: "Yup."

Silas: "Yup."


*** In a Private Gym somewhere in the Metro Detroit Area***

Bounce, Bounce, SWISH!

Bounce, Bounce, Bounce SWISH!

(A lone figure. Shirtless. Drenched in sweat. Dreads swaying with every shot)

Beef Stew: "One thousand and one…"

(He retrieves the ball and steps behind the 3 point line at the left wing)

Bounce, Bounce, SWISH!

Beef Stew: "One thousand and two…"

(He retrieves the ball and this time steps behind the 3 point line at the top of the key)

Bounce, Bounce, Bounce, SWISH!

Beef Stew: "One thousand and three…"

(He retrieves the ball and runs behind the 3 point line at the Right wing)

Bounce, Bounce, Bounce, CLANG!

(He grabs the miss and retreats all the way back to the left corner behind the 3 point line)

Bounce, Bounce, Bounce, Bounce SWISH!

Beef Stew: "One…"


*** In a Gym at the Pistons Practice facility ***

( A 6’4" combo guard with freshly shorn dreadlocks, runs a suicide and then immediately drops into a defensive stance and does defensive slides from one side of the court to the other)


(Jaden Ivey grimaces , pushing through the exhaustion)

Jarret Jack: "I CAN"T HEAR YOU!! TALK TO ME!!"

Ivey: " BACKSIDE!!!!" (Then, he Sprints towards the rim and jumps, simulating a full contest at the rim)

Ivey: (A split second after he lands) "SHOOTER!!!" (He then takes off to the right corner hands high, and jumps under control, simulating a shot contest)

Ivey: (Soon as he lands) "CUTTER!!!" (He then full on sprints to the left baseline, simulating walling off a cutter)



*** In another Gym at the Pistons Practice facility ***

Bounce…......Bounce.........Bounce...Bounce..Bounce,bounce,bounce, roll….

( Two chiseled physical specimens stare each other down, sizing one another up. One, hands on hips, the other hands on knees, both huffing and puffing as the ball rolls between them)

Ausar Thompson: (Uses his shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow) "Sudden Death?"

Jalen Duren: (Picks up the ball and Bounces it to Ausar) "Sudden Death."

(As soon as the ball touches Ausar’s hands he crosses over, goes between his legs, puts his head down and charges toward the rim! Jalen stays attached to his hip and follows him step for step! Ausar takes off from the dotted line as graceful as a gazelle, seeming to float in the air, while Duren, a step off , goes straight up with his Pterodactyl wings outstretched, both men meet at the rim like 2 Titans of Greek mythology clashing in battle!!!)


*** In a different private Gym somewhere in Metro Detroit ***

(A Flurry of Activity as 3 men fly around multiple drill cones! )

(The one with the ball goes between two of the cones towards the foul line, the other two men meet him at the spot and wall him off. Unbothered, the man with ball, dribbles the ball behind his back, casually takes a step back and survey’s the situation. Like a quantum Super Computer , he analyzes his opponent’s positions on the court relative to his own, notes the various angles he could take towards the rim, calibrates the optimal paths to open space at his sweet spots , cycles through the infinite dribble combinations in his arsenal, along with time it would take each of his opponents to react to each and runs multiple simulations in his head. He does all of this in a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a millisecond. He selects the best option and he crosses over left to right, one opponent bites and leans in, juuuusssttt a bit too far left. He immediately crosses behind his back right to left and the other opponent leans juuuusssttt a bit too far right. Once the ball hit’s his left hand , he shifts his weight and pirouettes into a spin move that splits between both defenders leaving them grasping at air. He calmly takes one more dribble , rises and finishes with a one hand slam.)

Cannen Cunningham: "GOOD MOVE!"

AshtonDaTrainer: (Laughs) "Where that one come from!"

( Cade Cunningham shrugs slightly, focus unwavering. He’s heard the noise. He’s seen the tweets…or…X’s…Hashtags?….. whatever ridiculous name Elon Musk came up with on his last bender… He knows this is it. His shin is strong. He’s fully healthy and the hopes and dreams of a once proud organization and an entire city rest on his broad shoulders. And he's ready for it. Chomping at the bit for the season to start! Ashton tosses him the ball)

Cannen Cunningham: ( Noticing Cade's hands shaking with barely restrained excitement) "SOUND OFF!!!!"

AshtonDaTrainer: "WHAT WE DO!!!!!!"


AshtonDaTrainer: "WHAT WE DO!!!!!!"


AshtonDaTrainer: "WHAT WE DO!!!!!!"



*** Dwane Casey's Balcony***

(Dwane Casey, in a bathrobe. Nursing a cup of tea out of mug with a Pistons logo on it, looking out over the Downtown Detroit Sky line)

Brenda Casey: (Walks up from behind) "Can’t sleep, baby?"

Dwane Casey: "Yeah, just a bit restless. Nothing to worry about."

Brenda Casey: "Something on your mind?"

Dwane Casey: "Just reflecting. It’s been an interesting journey since we came to Michigan, hasn't it?"

Brenda Casey: (chuckles) "To say the least. Seems like yesterday you were in your office breaking down Pick and roll coverages with Blake."

Dwane Casey: (chuckles as well) "Yeah. I still remember the look on your face when I told you Ed offered me the job."

Brenda Casey: "Oh my god. I was like ….wait…wasn’t this supposed to just be a month long consulting gig? Haha! Like, what happened to taking a year off?!"

Dwane Casey: "I felt so bad for you. You went from planning a back pack across Europe to googling "Best Nanny’s in the Detroit area" , hahaha!"

Brenda Casey: "Yeah. Good times."

Dwane Casey: "Yup."

Brenda Casey: "Don’t stay up too long. You still got chauffer duty for the kids in the morning"

Dwane Casey: "Gotta love retirement"

(Brenda rubs his shoulder and then retreats back into the house.)

( Dwane looks out at the city for a few more minutes. He Smiles to himself like a proud PaPa, it's as if he can sense all the work going on behind the scenes at this ungodly hour. He takes one final sip from the mug and sets it down with the Pistons Logo facing the City. Finally, he softly says to no one in particular.....)

Dwane Casey: "Hmm….. Dee-troit Basketball."

-He turns on his heels and saunters off to bed.-

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