Why Did Patrick Beverley Ask for the Ball Back?

At this point every random person with a sports platform has had their say on the Pat Bev situation. The general consensus is hey man bad move. At least with Malice in the Palace Ron Artest decided to put his body on the line. Here, Pat Bev just sat behind the security line of scrimmage knowing that the security guards would step in if the child (or the adults) had the gall to retaliate. I would come here and do this dissection of the incident, but the arena-Zapruder film has been frame-by-framed enough. And even if I wanted to do some character takedown of Patrick Beverley, Nick Wright already did a much better job than I ever could.

I’ve been pretty clear that I just don’t know NBA ball. My two blindspot sports are the NBA and the NHL; one was because I liked college better, and the other was because I just didn’t have a team and I never really saw the Aeros. (Disclaimer: If I am ever caught wearing an Aeros jersey, it’s because they’re cool, I am not a time-traveling bandwagoner). Apparently, I have just been mentally railed by the Patrick Beverley media machine, because I thought he was much better than he actually is. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that when he was in Houston he was a starter. From my view, he wasn’t great, but he was a starter. But after looking at his stats, I’m convinced he’s an industry plant.

My overall experience with Pat Bev is, “Oh yeah he’s here too.” Really, he’s never all that crucial. He’s like Chael Sonnen, who I wrote about a couple of weeks ago; his talking helps keep him relevant. But, at least Chael had some stats to back it up.

All of this comes on the back of his NBA suspension for the simple crime of hurling a ball at fans. Twice. I say hurling, but I’m pretty sure he was aiming for the guy he hit the second time. Which, like, I would expect a veteran NBA player to do a better job of passing, but maybe that’s why he’s a perennial 1-assist average.

The reason I even wrote this blog is because I need a bit of clarity. I won’t get it unless the man himself decides he wants to read this blog (he has a lot of free time right now and for at least four days next season). I mentioned the Zapruder film because I have investigated hand movements. The main focus of my investigation is all about hands. Specifically, Patrick Beverley’s hands after his first missed shot. As you can see here, he is clearly calling for the ball:

The most interesting part of this to me is that the fan who is kind enough to toss the ball back to Pat Bev is his main target. It’s like watching a gazelle stand in place as the lioness sneaks up on it. The gazelle is doomed, but the gazelle doesn’t know why. Much like the gazelle the fan is standing still for his assassin; unlike Assassin’s Creed, the combat is actually dynamic. (Author’s Note: I don’t play Assassin’s Creed, but I’ve seen the discourse).

I imagine that everyone assumed that something had gone awry on the bench. It’s basketball, and when you’re sitting close to the court, balls will be flying at you like it’s Bissonet at the end of a construction week without any rain delays. And, so, I’m guessing everyone, including the fan, was under the impression it was an accident. Pat Bev, like Nancy Pelosi seeing a bill with a blue chip corp’s name on it, had more nefarious plans.

And that’s why I’m fascinated with Patrick asking for the ball back, hands out and everything. This man’s opps are so verbally hurtful that the post-nut clarity of hitting a mom and kid wasn’t enough for Pat Bev to try and play it off. Instead, he went for round 2 as fast as possible and gut-punched the fan who sealed his own fate.

Usually, in these blogs, I end by answering the question I set out to answer. Here, I legitimately don’t have an answer. As much as I’d like to blame an RFK Jr. brain worm, I think we’ve been Veeped. (Note: Getting Veeped is when something in politics happens that is so ridiculous it had to be a plot point on Veep). This is an incredibly ridiculous situation that Pat Bev could have at least tried to play off. Instead assaulted and battered fans.

There’s part of me that wants to believe that he saw the “five years” jokes coming for him, so he Antonio Browned his way out of basketball. It’s more fun than a lame version of Malice. Either way, not to rehash a joke everyone has made, but the next five years are the fans’. And the court system. And, apparently, the police.

Follow Moon Stamp Sports on Twitter/X, Instagram and Facebook, and follow Jorden on Twitter/X. Check out other blogs by Jorden.