Bob Myers Rumors
“But in my experience when I was an agent, representing big guys — guards assimilate better or quicker into the NBA than big guys do, in my opinion … the speed, the strength, the rotations — it’s different. A big, young guy in the NBA — takes longer. But he’s doing fine. He’s got the right mindset.” Over three games with the D-League Warriors, Jones is averaging 2.7 points, 4.0 rebounds and 2.3 blocks over 19.4 minutes per contest. “It’s gonna be hard to crack our rotation,” Myers said. “But he hasn’t played basketball in seven months He needs to play a lot more basketball. But we’re encouraged.”
Before that revelation, though, Scalabrine’s position covering the Celtics and the fact he spent a season as an assistant coach in Golden State gave his words some weight. And, unsurprisingly, they caught like wildfire, to the point where he started a group text message chain with Celtics president of basketball operations Danny Ainge and Warriors general manager Bob Myers. On Wednesday night, Scalabrine read the Globe the text he sent to Myers and Ainge. “Hey guys wanted to clarify with you two,” the message read. “Read about trade rumors three days ago. People assume that because I talk to you guys and our relationship [that there is validity]. I just talked about the trade from a basketball standpoint. Sorry that I created this situation for both of you guys. I talk about rumors every day. This one seemed to catch fire for obvious reasons.”
“Were they mad? Well, anytime you have two GMs on a text, they’re going to destroy me,” Scalabrine said, smiling. “They absolutely destroyed me. Are they mad at me? I’m not sure. They could either be completely fun and sarcastic or they could be completely upset at me. I’m not sure yet.”
“He’s gained more compassion, more empathy,” said Kerr, whose father, Dr. Malcolm Kerr, was assassinated by political extremists in Beirut in 1984. “I found the same thing when I went through my dad’s death. It suddenly means a lot more when you read about somebody else’s tragedy.” Today, 13 months after his brother-in-law’s death, Myers and his team are under the kind of external scrutiny that comes only with championship-or-bust expectations. Still, it is Dinsmore whom he thinks of first when he wakes each morning. On the 12th of every month, to honor his memory, Bob, Kristen and their daughters release balloons with handwritten notes to Dinsmore “in heaven” in front of the Palace of Fine Arts.
Scott and Chelsea had been on the sixth day of an eight-day climb, about 2,000 feet from Kilimanjaro’s summit, when they heard a shout from a climber above. A black boulder — roughly the size of a large suitcase — was racing toward them as smaller rocks rained down on either side. Chelsea dove to her right. When she glanced back, Scott, who had been walking just behind her, was on the ground, severely injured. She tried to resuscitate him. It was too late. “This was a very bizarre and freak thing,” said Chelsea, who stays with the Myerses whenever she’s not traveling the world in her work for Live Your Legend. “No one else on the mountain was hurt. Scott was the only one.”