#MVP National Conference

[techdriveplay]

How much were the NBA’s top scorers paid per point in the 2023-24 regular season

The Boston Celtics and the Oklahoma City Thunder were crowned champions for the regular season in the Eastern and Western NBA Conferences, respectively. The scoring title went to Slovenian prodigy Luka Doncic, who averaged 33.9 points through 70 matches, dethroning last season’s winner, Joel Embiid, whose recent campaign was interrupted by injuries. The latest Sportingpedia report investigates…

[kxsagi]

hihi can i request how the media would react if they found out the bllk boys were married (itoshi brothers, kaiser, and whoever else you want)

ty, have a good day/night

“#𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐲𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐬”

a/n: this is a whole new idea and i love it! also thank you, have a good day/night as well!!!

a/n #2: who let them get married (and how do i get that lucky) 

ft. itoshi rin, itoshi sae, kaiser michael, isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, karasu tabito

itoshi rin

the world stops spinning when it leaks that rin married you. nobody can compute it. no one. 

he’s trending #1 globally with hashtags like #rinwifereveal #iceprincetaken. 

confused fans everywhere are asking the real questions: “how did he propose if he only speaks in death threats?” 

old clips of rin ignoring interviewers go viral again: “this man?? THIS MAN found a WIFE???” 

his agency posts a really dry statement like: “itoshi rin is married. he will continue his professional activities as usual.” 

the comments are gold – you getting praised like some mythological heroine: “if you married rin itoshi and lived to tell the tale, you deserve a national holiday.” 

when asked about you at a press conference, rin’s response is peak rin: “it’s none of your business.” 

but people notice he wears his wedding ring 24/7 and once smiled (barely) when someone said “your wife,” and fans LOST it. 

you are now officially worshiped as the woman who melted the glacier. 

itoshi sae

the media genuinely thinks it’s a typo when they find out sae married you. like itoshi sae??? able to love someone other than a soccer ball??? there’s no way he had the social skills for marriage. 

headlines are so petty: “itoshi sae ties the knot: sources unsure if he even likes people.” 

the sports tabloids zoom into old clips of him smirking mid-match like: “he must’ve been thinking about his wife 🫢” 

memes explode overnight: “you: babe, can you smile for the wedding pics? sae: raises one eyebrow slightly” 

your first public sighting together is chaotic. he’s pushing a grocery cart with a dead-eyed look while you’re happily picking snacks. 

paparazzi snap a blurry photo, and boom: “breaking: itoshi sae domesticated.” 

he literally never posts you (for privacy reasons), but when you post a picture of him cuddling you while half-asleep, fans combust: “WAIT he’s a softie for her ONLY???? iconic behavior.” 

kaiser michael

he announces your marriage like a mic drop. the german media especially loses their minds. 

posts a wedding photo with you on instagram, captioned: “still undefeated. married the hottest woman alive.” 

media outlets around the world are scrambling to write articles fast enough. 

magazines call you "the only trophy kaiser cares about.” 

he does interviews where he says stuff like: “yeah, she’s my best win yet.” 

every fan either: 1) cries about losing their delusions, or 2) makes memes of you carrying kaiser bridal-style after his matches. 

during games, opponents will yell at him: “your wife’s watching, pretty boy!” 

and kaiser just smirks, scores, and points to you in the stands like he’s in a movie. 

you literally make him even cockier. he’s insufferable. but also hot about it. 

isagi yoichi

the media basically short-circuits when they find out you’re married to him. like, nice boy next door isagi? married already??? 

they treat it like a scandal: “in today’s shocking development, yoichi isagi – japan’s golden boy – is officially off the market. hearts across the world have shattered.” 

twitter is in absolute shambles: “NO WAY isagi’s MARRIED. i thought he was married to FOOTBALL 😭” 

and you? you’re just living your best life, chilling while isagi is out here holding your hand proudly at press events like you’re his MVP. 

he’s answering interviews all starry-eyed: “yeah! i love my wife! she’s the real reason i win games.” 

you even get your own nickname in the press: "japan’s first lady of football.” 

whenever you post a picture together, comments are like: “she’s the real endgame. we lost, but we lost to a queen 😭👑”

bachira meguru

everyone immediately falls in love with you, too. like, duh. you’re the perfect match for chaotic sunshine incarnate. 

bachira’s announcement? just a pic of you both wearing matching crocs, captioned: “leveled up 💍🎮💖” 

every comment is crying about how cute it is. 

fans imagine the proposal like: “if i score 3 goals today, will you marry me? 😜” 

he makes finger hearts at you from the field. sometimes he even dabs after scoring because you dared him to. 

sports anchors have to explain “dab celebrations” on national TV now because of you two. 

people call you “his player 2” and it’s so iconic that a brand tries to sponsor you both for matching gamer jerseys. 

mikage reo

the media is CONVINCED it was some sort of billionaire merger. tabloids lose their minds speculating about your “secret heiress” identity. 

but really? you’re just you. you married reo because he’s a clingy, golden retriever boy that genuinely loves you and treats you well. 

he’s so defensive about it in interviews: “it’s not about money!! she’s literally perfect, end of discussion.” 

still, fans are clowning: “reo mikage gave up his entire inheritance for his wife. love wins 😭” 

reo keeps trying to pretend your life together is “normal” but then slips up like: “yeah, we took the jet to brunch lol.” 

you constantly remind him not to flex, but it’s a losing battle. he just loves spoiling you too much. 

he wears his wedding ring loudly like it’s a flex on single people. 

nagi seishiro

no one is surprised. like, yeah. obviously nagi would get married to his first love. 

he reposts a wedding pic you posted because he can’t be bothered making his own announcement. 

interviewers ask, “what made you want to settle down?” and he goes: “she’s comfy. i love her.” 

fans sob at the simplicity: “nagi just EXISTED and found true love while i’m out here struggling 😭” 

you are considered the ultimate cozy queen by the fanbase. 

nagi refers to you as “home” and it’s so casually romantic that everyone melts. 

he basically just plays games, cuddles you, and naps, living the dream. 

karasu tabito

he trolls the entire internet with your marriage reveal. 

he posts: “sorry ladies, taken for life 💍🤪” with the hashtag #wifedup. 

every comment is roasting him: “you????? married?????? how???”

no one believes him. not until you both post matching wedding rings with the caption: “teamwork makes the dream work 🫶” 

sports reporters really don't know if it’s real or just karasu being karasu. 

but it doesn’t change the fact that you and karasu become an iconic couple overnight. 

karasu’s new favorite hobby is pretending to be a “wife guy” on twitter for clout. like he’ll fake cry on twitter about missing “the single life” while literally posting pictures of you two cuddling under captions like: “can’t go out tonight, gotta watch kdramas with my wife 💔” 

fans call you "the MVP who finally fouled karasu’s heart.” 

somehow you two are both chaotic and goals at the same time. 

though media outlets are still confused whether to take him seriously because karasu’s like a walking clickbait article: “is he joking? is he not? find out on the next episode of karasu being karasu.” 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[azzibuckets]

you’re so good though [pazzi]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: pazzi in the bahamas. that’s it

Paige could care less about the Baha Mar MVP trophy weighing in her hands. As soon as Azzi accepted her All-Tournament trophy, she was launching herself at her best friend. “You’re gonna crush the hardware,” Azzi giggled, but she buried her chin in Paige’s shoulder anyways.

Paige squeezed a hand on the younger girl’s hip. “All-tournament team. Not too bad for your third game back.” In all honesty, not too bad didn’t even cut it. Azzi had shined on the court tonight, scoring a whopping 18 points to keep them in the game after a rocky third quarter. Seeing her jog down the court, confidence etched into her eyebrow as she sunk basket after basket had made Paige’s heart thump even more. She’d waited years for this, to play in the same court as Azzi, and the time was finally here.

Azzi rolled her eyes. Lifting her jersey to wipe sweat from her forehead, she glanced down at her trophy, happiness shining in her eyes as her dimple deepened. “Your ass almost didn’t get MVP tonight.”

“I don’t wanna hear nothing,” Paige grumbled, punching Azzi’s shoulder playfully. “Geno’s gonna give me hell about those turnovers later.”

Azzi laughed and drew Paige in as someone approached them for a picture. “Best player in the nation,” Paige crowed, throwing her arm around the dark haired girl’s shoulder.

As they walked to the press room, Azzi nudged her knuckles against Paige, their signature subtle reminder of each other’s presence. The blonde was still flushed from the game, her sweaty baby hairs sticking to the nape of her neck, but Azzi still thought her girlfriend looked as beautiful as ever. Paige looked up, her blue eyes bright beneath her lashes, and smiled one of her goofy smiles, allowing herself to intertwine her pinky with Azzi’s for a brief moment. She let go before anyone could see, but both of them looked away and blushed at the clandestine contact.

“You fools are so obvious,” Ice muttered as she walked past them. “Y’all better tone it down for the press conference or CD’s gonna be on y’all’s asses.” (Azzi did, in fact, not tone it down)

As the press conference started, Azzi yawned. Most of the questions were directed at Paige, and she didn’t even mind. She was ready to go to sleep after a long day. Azzi hadn’t even registered that the reporter had directed a question at either of them until Paige was turning to her with a smirk. “You got it.”

“Nope, you got it,” Azzi responded, knowing she had no idea what the reporter had just asked.

“Nah, I’ve been talking too much.” Paige shifted forward, placing her elbows on the table, as Azzi knocked her knee into hers under the table.

“Nope, you got it,” Azzi repeated. She lifted her hand and rested it on Paige’s back, trailing her fingers and smirking to herself as Paige shivered. “You’re so good, though, please continue,” she teased, her eyes running down Paige’s flexing bicep. She swallowed - Paige really had been in the gym over the summer.

“Nope. You haven’t done media in two years.” Paige said, jerking away from Azzi’s touch. The heat of the younger girl’s fingers sliding down her jersey and flirting with the skin at her waist was becoming too much.

“Seriously, come on,” Azzi argued, fighting to control her face. The daggers Paige sent her way meant that she’d be in for it later, but she didn’t care. Flustered Paige was her favorite Paige.

The older girl shook her head, her stare sharpening as she pressed her foot against Azzi’s ankle in warning.

Azzi sighed in relief as another reporter began talking, but Paige’s hand landing on her thigh before slowly sliding off her knee reminded her that she was still in deep shit.

Later that night, when they returned to the hotel to change before dinner, Paige’s hands were on Azzi before the door had even closed behind them. “You thought you were being cute and shit, huh,” Paige said gruffly, sliding her hands around the waistband of Azzi’s shorts.

“Nope.” Azzi popped the p, hands reaching up to slowly undo Paige’s hair from her ponytail. Running her hand through the blonde strands, she fluttered her lashes at her girlfriend. “Just being kind.”

Paige’s fingers danced across Azzi’s ribs, pushing up her jersey to feel the warmth of her bare skin. “18 points and the ego got to your head, hmm?”

“5 turnovers and your ego’s still big,” Azzi retorted, shifting her thigh between Paige’s legs and pressing up. The blonde’s breath hitched at the contact.

Paige’s eyes flared. “You brought a turtleneck?”

“We’re in the fucking Bahamas, dumbass. ‘Course I didn’t.”

Paige smiled smugly. “You’re gonna need to buy one after this.”

“Paige, we have dinner in ten minutes,” Azzi retorted, but nevertheless tilted her neck for Paige to skim her lips across.

“Ten minutes is all I need,” Paige murmured, teeth colliding with Azzi’s collarbone.

Azzi’s mouth parted slightly. The little pants escaping her lips were making Paige go feral, and her hips pushing up against the blonde’s didn’t help one bit. “We can’t.”

“Who says?”

“This is my family we’re making wait,” Azzi argued, tangling her hand in Paige’s hair.

“Are you tryna convince me or yourself?” Paige smirked, now peppering kisses across Azzi’s shoulder.

“Paige.”

“Alright, alright.” Paige let go of Azzi’s hips and stepped back, her lips shiny with spit and her pupils blown over with want.

Azzi giggled at the glazed over look in the blonde’s eyes. She pressed a kiss to Paige’s mouth. “Later, okay?” She bit at Paige’s earlobe before drawing back with a coy smile. “I’ll let you do whatever you want to me, MVP.”

“Fuck.”

[theseh00perscanh00p]

Coaching Violation: Part 12

paige x azzi

a/n: Contains some sexual content, minors DNI. If this is the end I'm sorry this is the end... I think this is the end. Please don't be mad at me if you don't want this to be the end...But I really do think this is the end... oh gosh I feel like you guys are gonna be mad at me for this being the end... let me know if you think this is okay to be the end...(can you tell I'm nervous to end this???)

word count: 4.2k

Azzi’s Apartment – A few weeks post Paige Resigning

The sun was just beginning to set when Paige collapsed back against the couch, phone facedown on the coffee table, a half-drunk iced tea sweating beside it.

Azzi came out of the bedroom barefoot, her curls still damp from a shower, wearing Paige’s old USA jersey like it was hers now — which, technically, it was.

Paige looked up and let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” Azzi asked, settling next to her.

Paige didn’t answer right away. Just reached for her hand, their fingers tangling in a practiced rhythm.

“I walked away from everything else,” she finally said. “This part? The being yours part? It’s the only thing I’ve never been scared of.”

Azzi leaned in, kissed her cheek. “So let’s tell them.”

They didn’t do a full photoshoot. No matching fits. No soft-focus beach pic or dramatic caption.

Just a single photo on Azzi’s Instagram — the two of them in sweats on the back steps of her apartment building, laughing at something Paige had just said. Azzi’s hand on Paige’s thigh. Paige’s gaze fixed on Azzi like she hung the damn moon.

The caption was simple:

A love like this couldn’t stay hidden forever.

An Hour Later – Social Media Chaos

The post hit like wildfire.

Within fifteen minutes:

#Pazzi was trending again.

Someone resurfaced the blurry bar photo from Vegas with a new caption: “We knew it. We KNEW it.”

WNBA Twitter declared it a national holiday.

JJ Redick commented, “You fumbled the league but secured the MVP. Respect.”

KK posted a screenshot of their group chat with, “Took y’all long enough. 🥂”

Paige hadn’t touched her phone since they posted.

She just watched Azzi laugh — full body, nose-scrunching laughter — as she read the comments aloud.

“Oh my God,” Azzi choked out. “Someone said you give ‘white girl with a clipboard’ but also ‘I’d ruin my life for her.’ Accurate?”

Paige smirked, stretching her arm along the back of the couch. “I did ruin my life for you, technically.”

Azzi leaned into her side, still grinning. “And I’d do it again.”

A beat passed.

Then another.

Azzi looked up, quiet now. “You okay?”

Paige nodded once. “I think I am. For the first time in a long time… yeah.”

They sat in the glow of their decision — phones buzzing, world watching — and for once, it didn’t feel like a burden.

It felt like freedom.

Two Days Later – Downtown LA

They’d made it out of the honeymoon era and into the firestorm.

ESPN picked up the story by breakfast the next morning. Outlets were using every photo they could dig up — press conference screengrabs, post-game hugs, blurry fan photos from Vegas that now felt less like speculation and more like clues to a long-buried love story.

Paige had turned off her Twitter notifications after someone tweeted a side-by-side of her scowling in a suit next to Azzi in her jersey, captioned:

“Why does this look like a power couple in an HBO prestige drama?”

She didn’t disagree.

What she didn’t expect was the media pivot. Once the initial “scandal” fizzled out — no league investigation, no policy statements — it transformed. Not into approval, necessarily. But curiosity. Support.

Paige had spent so long preparing for backlash that she didn’t quite know how to process neutrality. Or worse — praise.

Azzi’s Apartment – Late Afternoon

Paige dropped a grocery bag on the counter and leaned back, watching Azzi unpack produce like it was a normal Wednesday. No flashing cameras. No one whispering behind their backs at practice. No reporters calling for comment.

Just… peace.

Azzi glanced over. “You’re staring.”

“Just making sure this is real.”

“It is.” Azzi tossed her an apple. “We did the hard part.”

Paige caught it. “Did we?”

Azzi closed the fridge with her foot, then walked over, looping her arms loosely around Paige’s waist. “You resigned. I almost had a breakdown. We admitted we’re in love in the middle of the bedroom floor. Then we came out to the world. Babe, if this isn’t the hard part, I don’t want to know what is.”

That made Paige laugh — really laugh — for the first time since the announcement.

Azzi tilted her head. “Still want to go off the grid?”

“Not yet.”

They curled up on the couch later, legs tangled, laptop open, watching an old season of Top Chef. Every so often, Paige would sneak glances at Azzi, just to make sure this wasn’t some temporary illusion.

She wasn’t dreaming.

Azzi caught her staring again. “You’re really bad at being subtle.”

“I never claimed to be subtle.”

“Well,” Azzi said, voice low. “You don’t have to be anymore.”

Paige pulled her closer. “I love you.”

Azzi’s heart clenched in that exact way it always did when Paige said that. Like it was stitched straight into the rhythm of her chest now.

“I love you too.”

And this time, it didn’t sound like a goodbye. It sounded like a beginning.

Sparks Game - Crypto Arena

Paige’s POV

She wasn’t coaching anymore.

Wasn’t lacing up sneakers or taping ankles or running film breakdowns until her eyes went blurry.

But somehow, for the first time in what felt like years, Paige Bueckers finally felt like herself again.

And ironically?

It looked a lot like being on the sidelines — this time with zero pressure.

It had been a month since the chaos died down.

Azzi’s season was still in full swing. Paige’s life?

A carefully curated cocktail of early morning Pilates, daytime freelance work she never advertised (okay, maybe she helped out on a youth development camp KK had dragged her into co-running), and late nights spent curled into Azzi’s side like it was her favorite position on the court.

It wasn’t the WNBA grind.

But it was theirs.

Tonight, Paige sat courtside, cross-legged in her vintage Sparks sweatshirt that definitely wasn’t for sale, sipping an iced diet coke she’d already had refilled twice. Her hair was in a bun. Her phone was tucked away. And her attention?

Laser-focused on the court — and the 5’11” half-scorching, half-smirking woman in jersey #35.

Azzi Fudd was torching the Sky like they’d personally offended her.

Azzi had barely hit the shot before Paige was on her feet.

Hands in the air. Voice louder than she meant to be. The kind of celebration that made security do a double take — not because she was out of control, but because she was unmistakably in it. Fully, publicly, irrevocably in it.

“Let’s gooo, baby!” she yelled, then cupped her hands like it might somehow echo directly to the court.

Azzi didn’t even turn. Just jogged back on defense like she hadn’t just made the crowd stand to their feet. But Paige caught it — the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. That’s all she needed.

Back on the bench, Rickea nudged Rae with her elbow.

“She’s so whipped,” Rickea said under her breath.

Rae laughed. “It’s actually getting out of hand. Did you see her jump up like she hit the shot?”

“She probably felt like she did,” Rickea said. “I think her brain still thinks she’s on the roster.”

Azzi plopped down beside them as the timeout buzzer sounded, towel slung around her shoulders, cheeks flushed.

“You good?” Rae teased, tossing her a Gatorade.

Azzi gave a shrug. “I mean, yeah. Just out here tryna impress my girl.”

“Mission accomplished,” Rickea said, nodding toward courtside.

Paige was standing now, talking animatedly with a group of fans who had asked for a picture between quarters.

“Tell me why she looks more famous than you right now,” Rae muttered.

Azzi didn’t answer — not out loud, anyway. But the soft smile on her face said everything.

“She was yelling like it was Game 7 of the Finals,” Rickea added. “I swear, I heard her say ‘baby’ so loud the ref looked over.”

“I told her to play it cool,” Azzi said.

“And she told you she doesn’t know what that means,” Rae deadpanned.

Azzi laughed. “Exactly.”

Out on the court, the huddle broke and Paige caught Azzi’s eyes immediately. She held up three fingers and gave a mock-bow, mouthing something exaggerated that looked a lot like that’s my shooter.

Azzi flushed. Bit her lip. Threw a towel at her.

From the bench, Rickea just shook her head. “Two more games. Tops. Before someone from the league sends y’all a friendly little PDA fine.”

Azzi raised her brows. “For what? We haven’t even kissed courtside.”

“Yet,” Rae corrected.

Azzi tried to look offended. Failed. “Y’all are ridiculous.”

Rickea leaned in, quieter now. “You know we’re happy for you, right?”

Azzi nodded, soft. “Yeah. I know.”

Back on the sideline, Paige sat again — bouncing her knee, fingers twitching like she wanted to be out there, but her gaze never left Azzi. Not for a second.

She was dialed in. No clipboard, no coaching title, no rules to hide behind.

Just her. Unpaid. Unbothered. And completely in love.

And for the first time in a long time, that was more than enough.

Post-Game – Locker Room Lounge

It had become routine.

Paige didn’t go into the locker room anymore, not unless specifically invited — boundaries were easier to maintain now that they were together in the open. But she did loiter just outside. Always with a drink in hand. Always in her sneakers.

Azzi appeared fifteen minutes post-buzzer, curls pulled back, media smile wiped off.

“Hi,” she said like it was a secret.

“Hey,” Paige grinned. “You, uh… broke at least four laws of physics tonight.”

Azzi shrugged, stepping into her space like gravity had a favorite.

“You see the wink?”

“Oh, I saw it,” Paige said. “Nearly dropped my drink.”

“Good,” Azzi teased. “Would’ve been worth it.”

Paige slipped her fingers around Azzi’s wrist and leaned in, whispering low. “You wanna get out of here? I think you’ve signed enough jerseys and kissed enough babies for one night.”

Azzi snorted. “You saying you want to kiss me instead?”

Paige didn’t blink. “Every chance I get.”

Later – Azzi’s Apartment

Paige’s POV

They ended up back at Azzi’s place — though, lately, it felt less like hers and more like theirs. No one had said it out loud yet, but the truth was in the details. Her favorite hoodie hung from the kitchen chair. Her sneakers were by the door. There were protein bars in the pantry only she liked, and Azzi had stopped questioning the new toothpaste brand in the bathroom drawer.

It was quiet now — not heavy, not tense. Just the soft kind of quiet that came after a day that asked a lot and gave back even more.

Paige was sprawled across the couch, her bare feet tucked into Azzi’s lap. One of Azzi’s hands rested loosely on her ankle, fingers drawing absent circles over her skin, while the other scrolled her phone. Reruns of some sitcom played muted on the TV, the kind where you already knew the punchlines but didn’t care. It was a background hum to the real comfort in the room.

“Hey,” Paige said, not loud — just enough to pull Azzi’s attention back.

Azzi glanced over. “Yeah?”

“You know what I was thinking about earlier?”

“If this is about another couples Halloween costume—”

Paige smirked. “Not this time.”

She sat up a little, sliding closer until she could press her thigh against Azzi’s.

“I was just thinking about last year. Where we were. How scared I was to go after what I really wanted.”

Azzi’s expression softened. Her fingers drifted higher, brushing against Paige’s calf.

“And now…” Paige gestured vaguely around the apartment. “This. All of this. Us.”

A breath passed between them, quiet but full.

Azzi leaned in. “I know. It still doesn’t feel real.”

“It is though,” Paige whispered. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Azzi smiled, her eyes sparkling. “Even if ESPN calls tomorrow?”

Paige grinned. “Even if ESPN calls tomorrow.”

The kiss that followed wasn’t hungry. Not yet. It was gentle. Certain. The kind of kiss that said we’re here now. That they’d survived the push and pull and ended up exactly where they were supposed to.

But then Azzi’s hand slid under the hem of her hoodie, and Paige’s heart kicked hard against her ribs.

It didn’t have to turn into anything more — but Paige wanted it to. She craved the kind of closeness that meant nothing in the world was uncertain anymore. Not her feelings. Not Azzi’s. Not this life they were building out loud.

She let Azzi pull the hoodie over her head. Let her touch. Let herself lean into the way Azzi’s fingers ran along the bare skin of her back like she was rediscovering her in a whole new context — post-soft launch, post-secret, post-everything.

“I still get nervous around you sometimes,” Paige murmured.

Azzi blinked. “Why?”

Paige cupped her cheek. “Because you still make me feel like I have something to prove.”

Azzi leaned in. “Then prove it.”

The kiss that followed lit a fuse inside her.

Azzi’s lips were warm, slow at first — until Paige climbed into her lap, knees on either side of her thighs, bodies aligned. Azzi groaned into her mouth, gripping her hips like she couldn’t stand the space between them anymore. Paige deepened the kiss, grinding gently into her, her hands sliding up under Azzi’s tank top to feel the dip of her waist, the arch of her ribs.

The couch creaked beneath them. Neither cared.

She tugged the tank off Azzi’s body, exposing golden skin and soft muscle. She looked so unfairly beautiful like this — flushed cheeks, lips pink and kiss-swollen, eyes blown wide with want.

Paige kissed down her neck, biting softly beneath her ear, then licking over the mark in apology. Azzi’s breath stuttered.

“Bedroom,” Azzi whispered.

They half-stumbled, half-laughed their way down the hall, hands and mouths never parting for more than a second. Once inside, Paige backed her toward the bed, gently lowering her down like she was something precious — something she knew she was allowed to touch now, fully, freely, without fear.

Azzi reached for her again, but Paige grabbed her wrist, pinning it softly above her head.

“Let me,” she said.

Azzi stilled.

Paige kissed down her chest, lingering between her breasts, then lower — teeth dragging lightly along Azzi’s ribs, leaving warmth and goosebumps in her wake. She took her time peeling the shorts off her hips, pressing soft kisses to each new inch of exposed skin like a prayer.

Azzi was already wet.

Paige didn’t say anything — she just dipped her head and gave her what she wanted.

What they wanted.

She licked slowly at first, savoring the taste, the way Azzi moaned and tangled her fingers in Paige’s hair. The way she whispered her name like it was the only word she still remembered.

Paige flattened her tongue and circled it, teasing the sensitive spot until Azzi’s thighs trembled around her. Then she slid two fingers inside her, curling them deliberately as her mouth kept pace, her entire body in sync with Azzi’s unraveling.

“Fuck—Paige—” Azzi gasped, her voice shaking. “I—”

She didn’t finish. She didn’t need to.

Paige felt her come apart, watched it unfold in real time — hips lifting, eyes fluttering shut, breath catching like she’d been trying to hold it in for hours and couldn’t anymore.

But she didn’t stop there.

Azzi pulled her up into a kiss, desperate and messy, still catching her breath. Paige licked into her mouth, tasting her own name there, smiling into the kiss because god, this was hers.

She pressed their foreheads together. “Want to make you feel what you make me feel.”

Azzi’s hands slid into her waistband. “Then let’s do it together.”

And when she said that — when she looked at her like that — Paige lost the last of her control.

They shifted until they were on their sides, facing each other in the middle of the bed. Paige slid her hand back between Azzi’s legs. Azzi did the same. Their hands moved at the same time, fingers slipping in, stroking with matched rhythm and need. Their breaths synced. Moans spilled into each other’s mouths.

It was tender and intimate in a way Paige didn’t know existed until now — watching Azzi’s face twist with pleasure at the same exact moment hers did. Feeling her come at the same time her own orgasm tore through her, body locking tight and then breaking open in the safety of Azzi’s arms.

Afterward, they lay there tangled up, skin damp, limbs heavy, the quiet stretching like velvet between them.

Azzi brushed a strand of hair off her forehead. “You okay?”

Paige turned her head on the pillow and looked at her. Really looked.

“Yeah,” she said. “I think I finally am.”

She leaned forward and kissed her again — slow, grateful, full of everything words couldn’t reach.

And somewhere between the weight of their shared breath and the softness of the sheets, Paige realized something with absolute certainty.

There was no hiding anymore.

They were known. Loved. Together.

And she would spend every day proving that choosing Azzi — fully, publicly, permanently — was the best decision she’d ever made.

Apartment Kitchen

Paige’s POV

Three months after the WNBA season came to an end.

The email came at 10:03 a.m. on a Wednesday — buried between a coupon from Target and an overdue notice from some newsletter she never meant to subscribe to. Paige almost didn’t see it. She’d been halfway through unloading the dishwasher, humming whatever song Azzi had played on repeat that morning, still wearing an old Sparks hoodie and basketball shorts she definitely didn’t steal (Azzi would argue otherwise).

Subject line: Let’s Talk Basketball — ESPN Inquiry

She froze. The dish in her hand was still wet, slipping slightly as her grip went loose.

She read it once.

Then again.

Then a third time, aloud this time, like saying it would make it more real.

Her heart pounded in her chest, sudden and heavy. She blinked. Set the bowl down carefully before she dropped it.

A laugh bubbled up — not because it was funny, but because it was happening. Finally. The thing she didn’t know she’d wanted so badly until it knocked on her inbox, asking if she was ready to come home in a different way.

Two days later – Café Verve, Downtown LA

The café was tucked between a plant shop and a boutique yoga studio, the kind of place that smelled like oat milk and ambition. Paige had been there before — once with Azzi after a workout.

This time, though, it was just her.

She arrived ten minutes early.

Not because she was nervous, she told herself — but because she didn’t want to walk in sweaty from a last-minute sprint or have to fight a line of influencers ordering lavender matcha.

She wore the jeans Azzi liked — the ones that didn’t sag but weren’t try-hard skinny. A plain white tee under the cropped bomber jacket Azzi once called “dangerously competent,” and a clean pair of black and white Dunks. Her hair was tied back, makeup minimal. Chill, but intentional. Like, yeah, I might know how to break down a 1-3-1 zone better than your assistant coach, what about it?

The recruiter was already there when she walked in — older woman, mid-forties, sharp bob and even sharper presence, seated by the window with a half-drunk cappuccino and a manila folder on the table.

“Paige Bueckers,” she said, standing. “I feel like I should be asking for an autograph.”

Paige laughed, shaking her hand. “Only if you’re prepared to be disappointed. My signature looks like a chicken stepped in ink.”

“Even better,” the woman smiled. “I’m Rochelle. Thanks for making the time.”

They sat. Paige ordered an iced vanilla latte, no whip. When it came, she drank it too fast, the cold shocking the back of her throat. Nerves. She was good at pretending they weren’t there, but she felt them — like static in her hands, like a tight line stretched across her ribs.

“So,” Rochelle began, sliding the folder closer. “We’ve been following you for a while. Obviously your playing career speaks for itself — and the coaching stint, brief but strong. We’ve had your name on our short list for a bit now.”

Paige blinked. “Even before I got injured?”

Rochelle nodded. “Honestly? Yeah. Some of us saw it coming. Not the injury — but the shift. You’re someone who sees the game. Not just plays it.”

That landed. Paige’s shoulders softened just a touch.

“We’re always looking for voices who can bring clarity without condescension,” Rochelle continued. “Especially on the women’s side. You know the game, and more importantly, you know how to talk about it in a way people want to hear.”

“I’ve never done broadcast before,” Paige said, fingers wrapped tight around her cup.

“You’ve never played it safe either.”

That made her laugh. “Fair.”

Rochelle leaned back. “Tell me what you’re seeing this year. Women’s college ball. Who’s impressing you?”

Paige didn’t even hesitate.

She launched into it — talking through this year’s SEC depth, the Big Ten sleeper teams, the freshman guard out of Oregon who reminded her of a younger Jewell Loyd. She broke down the current top-five defensive schemes being run in Power Five programs and explained — almost without realizing it — why a certain top-seeded team’s offense looked elite but was bound to fall short without better spacing.

Rochelle listened, nodding along, the corners of her mouth lifting as Paige’s words picked up pace.

“You talk like a coach,” she said.

“I think I just… haven’t stopped thinking about the game. Even when I wasn’t playing. Or coaching. I’ll be at dinner with Azzi and notice a ball screen I would’ve run differently on the TV in the background.”

“You still want to be in it.”

Paige hesitated. Then nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

Rochelle tapped a nail against her cup. “Not a lot of people can pivot without feeling like they’re failing. Like stepping off the court is some kind of death sentence.”

“It felt like that for a while,” Paige admitted, voice quieter now. “I thought if I wasn’t in a jersey, I wasn’t anyone. But… lately, I’m realizing I don’t have to stop being me just because the role changed. I still see the game. Still love it.”

Rochelle smiled. “That’s what we’re betting on.”

Paige’s brows lifted. “You’re offering?”

“Not officially,” she said. “Not yet. I’ve got to pitch you upstairs. But this?” She tapped the folder. “This meeting? It was to see if you’re serious. If you’re ready.”

“And?”

“And I think you are. I think you’re ready to do something that sounds a lot like staying in the game — just from a new angle.”

Paige exhaled, and for the first time in a while, it didn’t feel tight in her chest.

She wasn’t being replaced. She was being repurposed.

Later that night, back in the apartment with takeout between them and Azzi’s head in her lap, Paige told her everything.

“She said I talk like a coach.”

Azzi grinned without opening her eyes. “You are a coach. You just happen to be hot and jobless right now.”

“I think I’m about to be only one of those things.”

Azzi peeked up. “The jobless part?”

“Hopefully.”

Azzi smiled wider. “That’s my girl.”

Paige smoothed a hand through her curls, her fingers still tingling from holding the coffee cup too tight all morning.

“I didn’t know if I was ready.”

“And now?”

“I think I’ve been ready. I just didn’t know there was still room for me at the table.”

Azzi rolled over, facing her fully now. “You don’t need to wait for a seat anymore, Paige. You are the table.”

Paige laughed — not the polite kind, but the real one. The kind that cracked her wide open.

Maybe she wasn’t a point guard anymore. Maybe she’d never coach a championship team. But she could still speak the language.

And now someone was finally listening.

She didn’t have to let it go.

She just had to shift.

And god, was she ready.

Her first taping wasn’t live. They eased her in with pre-recorded segments — breakdowns of top draft prospects, commentary on defensive schemes, analysis of conference play. But the minute the camera turned on, Paige felt alive.

No nerves. No hesitation.

Just her. The game. And a microphone.

She’d found her court again — this time made of lights and lenses instead of hardwood.

And when she got home later that night, worn out but buzzing, Azzi was there waiting. Dinner on the stove. A bottle of sparkling cider on the counter. And a hand-written card with block letters that read: Told you they’d call.

Paige pulled her into a hug from behind, rested her chin on Azzi’s shoulder.

“I don’t know how I got so lucky,” she whispered.

Azzi grinned. “You didn’t. We chose each other.”

And that was the truth of it.

Love wasn’t luck. It was choosing — over and over. And Paige was finally ready to choose herself, too.

ESPN wasn’t the end of her story.

It was the next beginning.

And for the first time since it all fell apart…

She finally knew how to stay in the game.

And even better?

She had someone to go home to after the final buzzer.

[grandpeachpersona]

It's A Man's World

Chapter 8 ☆Sorry not Sorry☆

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.8k (Sorry for any grammar errors)

A:N: Not my best chapter, just a filler if I'm being honest 🤷🏿‍♀️ photo and gifs, thanks to Pinterest.

To words

Jet. Laged.

We faced the Nationals in the NDLS, and of course, we won 4-0. Now, we're back home in the ATL, preparing for the NLCS (National League Championship Series), where our opponents are the Los Angeles Dodgers.

Interestingly enough, they had their press conference today and said some very interesting things about me, which I couldn't care less about. You have the nerve to say and quote, “I mean, she's good, but I don’t think she’s good enough to beat us.”

As I sit down for my press conference, I usually would keep some comments to myself, but as of right now, all gloves are off. “How was practice Sierra?”

“Good, a little chilly, but it was fine,” I respond with a shrug.

And the question that everyone wanted to ask got fired off next: “Any response to the comments that were made earlier today by the Dodgers.’

I pull a slight smirk on my face and nod my head. “I was good enough to win Rookie of the Year. I was good enough to win MVP. And I was good enough to win a Gold Glove. I think I'll be great enough to beat the Dodgers,” I answer confidently.

The room noticed the slight change in demeanor because the questions afterward were very short and to the point. Sorry not Sorry

Game Day was here, and I was more than ready to go. I had just finished lacing my cleats when a notification popped up on my phone. Normally, I wouldn't check my phone so close to game time, but full of curiosity, I checked it anyway.

Joe Burrr 🧡

Hey, you don't have to respond. I know you're in your zone. I just wanted to say go kill it out there tonight. You made it this far, so don't let them drag you back over some petty comments, even though your clapback was funny as hell, lol. I know you got this. Good luck! And no hits to the face.

I smile at the message and chuckle at the last part. As if I needed more confidence boost, Joe just put the cherry on top with this. I didn't respond but reacted to his message with a heart.

He's right. I busted my ass for his moment, and ill be damned if, like he said, some petty comments stop me. With my heart racing and excitement bubbling, I stepped out of the locker room, ready to face what lay ahead. The atmosphere was electric, filled with the cheers of fans and the buzz of anticipation. It was time to prove myself once again.

Game 1..Los Angeles

Game 2…Atlanta

Game 3…Atlanta

Game 4… Los Angeles

Game 5…Atlanta

Game 6…Los Angles

Here we are: Game 7—the climactic finale of this intense series. The stakes couldn't be higher; this game could either catapult us to the heights of glory or send us back to our living rooms, resigned to watching the World Series unfold from our couches, devoid of the thrill of competition.

The atmosphere felt electric, but we were up against the reality of not having home-field advantage. Every cheer from the opposing fans echoed in our ears, amplifying the pressure. As the scoreboard ominously displayed a 4-6 lead for our opponents in the bottom of the 7th inning, a collective sense of urgency enveloped our dugout.

It was my turn at bat. With each heartbeat resonating in my ears, I steadied myself in the batter's box, digging my cleats into the ground. I took a deep breath, visualizing my success, and when the pitcher threw the ball, I swung hard and made contact. The satisfying "crack" of the bat resonated through the stadium as I connected cleanly, sending the ball slicing into the outfield.

The crowd erupted, their cheers mingling with my own racing thoughts. I bolted down the first baseline, my legs pumping with adrenaline as I focused on reaching the safety of first base. A base hit! I knew it was enough to bring in a run, narrowing the gap and making us just a single run short of tying it up.

Now attention shifted to Ronny Mauricio, the rookie out of the Dominican Republic—a whirlwind of talent and potential. Watching him in action was like witnessing poetry in motion; he had an innate ability to read the game that belied his experience. I remained on first, breathless with anticipation as he took his stance in the batter's box. My teammate stood at third, equally poised for the moment.

The pitcher, sensing the mounting tension, cast a wary glance in my direction, gauging whether I might attempt to steal second. He then turned his focus back to Ronny, delivering the pitch with a swift motion. Ronny, with a keen eye, timed his swing perfectly, launching the ball deep into the outfield.

With my heart pounding, I took off, pushing myself to accelerate as I rounded second base. It felt like the world had faded away, leaving only the sound of my breath and the pounding of my heart. As I glanced toward the dugout, my third-base coach was a blur of determination, animatedly waving me on to keep running. His enthusiastic gestures spurred me further as I hurtled towards third base.

Rounding the base, I quickly turned my gaze back to the outfield. I could see the ball gliding through the air as the outfielders scrambled to retrieve it, their movements frantic as they prepared for the throw home. The anticipation twisted in my stomach, a mix of hope and fear. I was in the home stretch now.

Closing in on home plate, I went all out, knowing this was it. With a burst of energy, I dove forward, my body stretching toward the plate, conscious of every moment passing. I aimed to reach the base before the ball could get there, my fingertips longing to brush against the plate. As I hit the dirt, I felt the weight of the game pressing down, and with one final effort, I reached out, praying that my hand would touch the plate just as I made my desperate slide.

“SAFE!” The umpire shouted as I stood up. I clapped my hands as I walked back to the dugout, receiving pats on my back and on top of my helmet. New ballgame, gentlemen—6 to 6.

It all came down to this—bottom of the 9th, the scoreboard reading 7-6. We were just three outs away from securing our place in the World Series. As I stepped onto the field at shortstop, the tension in the air was palpable. The roar of the crowd surged around me as fans leaped to their feet, rallying behind our closing pitcher, Ryan Gonzalez.

The first out came swiftly—a high fly ball that one of our outfielders snagged with ease. The crowd cheered, but the tension only thickened.

The second out was even faster—a powerful strikeout that sent a wave of excitement through our dugout. But our hopes for a quick victory were tempered as the next batter approached the plate.

Shohei Ohtani.

Even in this high-stakes moment, the name alone sent a shiver down my spine. He’s already cemented his place in baseball history as a legend, and the energy shifted palpably as he walked up, bat in hand. The stadium, once a cacophony of cheers, fell eerily silent, all eyes fixed on Ryan as he prepared to pitch.

The first pitch whistled through the air, and Shohei connected—but it wasn’t to be. The ball sailed foul, slicing through the tension with a loud crack.

0-1.

Ryan took a moment, steadied himself, and fired the second pitch—a slow ball that floated just outside the strike zone.

1-1.

The crowd watched with bated breath as the third pitch split the plate, a crisp strike that drew another round of cheers from our supporters.

1-2.

With just one out remaining, the atmosphere was electric. Ryan took a deep breath, and for a split second, time seemed to stand still as he wound up for the final pitch.

Shohei swung with all his might but came up empty. The moment the ball hit Ryan’s glove, a thunderous eruption of cheers engulfed the stadium, drowning out everything else. My heart raced as my teammates and I rushed the mound, a tidal wave of joy crashing over us. We shouted, leaped, and embraced one another in pure elation.

We had done it—we just won the National League Championship Series and earned our ticket to the World Series. I couldn't help but feel like the universe was smiling down on me. I truly felt like I was God's Child, blessed and ready for whatever came next.

As I stepped into the familiar warmth of my house, a relieved sigh escaped my lips as I leaned back against the heavy wooden door. The vibrant energy of my teammates still echoed in my mind, a reminder of the spirited celebration I struggled to keep up with. Despite my love for the camaraderie, I knew I was no match for their boundless enthusiasm, especially when it came to reveling in our recent victory.

Pushing myself off the door, I made my way toward my bedroom, the soft carpet cushioning my feet as I began to remove my jewelry, each piece a cherished memory of the night. The sudden buzz of my phone caught my attention, drawing me to my bed where it lay, face up, a bright light illuminating the dark room.

I picked it up and glanced at the screen, a smile spreading across my face as I recognized the sender.

Joe Burrr 🧡

"Hey, just landed in Dallas. Just wanted to say congrats and I'm proud of you, Ri."

A warm sensation spread through me, making my cheeks flush as I began to type my response. I could sense the exhaustion in his words, the faint hint of fatigue woven into the text.

Me

"Thank you, baby, ❤️. Good luck on Monday."

My heart dropped into my stomach the moment I hit send. Oh no. Please tell me I didn’t just send that.

Joe Burrr 🧡

"Baby? That’s a new one…"

If I could’ve smacked myself right then and there, I would’ve done it without hesitation. What on earth possessed me to text him something so intimate?

Well, perhaps the remnants of the night’s festivities and the alcohol swirling in my system had something to do with it, but that was beside the point.

Me

"Yeah…umm…"

Joe Burrr 🧡

"Lol It's okay Ri. Get some sleep. I'll call you before practice tomorrow."

Part of me wished he wouldn’t follow through on that, yet another part of me buzzed with excitement. It felt so wrong, yet undeniably thrilling, and I couldn’t shake the sensation that this small slip could change everything.

Chapter 9 ☆Butterflies☆

@hoodharlow @enretrogue

[summerscold]

why am I getting all these depressing ass LeBron edits because of the series? do I look like a BonBon connoisseur ??? acting like this senior citizen isn’t a

4× NBA champion (2012, 2013, 2016, 2020), 4× NBA Finals MVP (2012, 2013, 2016, 2020), 4× NBA MVP (2009, 2010, 2012, 2013), 21× NBA All-Star (2005–2025), 3× NBA All-Star Game MVP (2006, 2008, 2018), 20× All-NBA selection (13× First Team: 2006, 2008–2018, 2020; 3× Second Team: 2005, 2007, 2021; 4× Third Team: 2019, 2022–2024), 6× NBA All-Defensive selection (5× First Team: 2009–2013; Second Team: 2014), NBA Rookie of the Year (2004), NBA All-Rookie First Team (2004), NBA scoring leader (2008), NBA assists leader (2020), 3× NBA minutes leader (2007, 2017, 2018), J. Walter Kennedy Citizenship Award (2017), NBA Cup winner (2023), NBA Cup MVP (2023), NBA Cup All-Tournament Team. 4× Olympic medalist (3× Gold: 2008, 2012, 2024; Bronze: 2004), FIBA Men’s Olympics MVP (2024), FIBA World Cup Bronze (2006), FIBA AmeriCup Gold (2007), USA Basketball Male Athlete of the Year (2008, 2012) High School National champion (2003), 3× State champion (2000, 2001, 2003), 2× Gatorade National Player of the Year (2002, 2003), 2× Mr. Basketball USA (2002, 2003), 2× USA Today High School Player of the Year (2002, 2003), 3× Ohio Mr. Basketball (2001–2003), 3× USA Today All-USA First Team (2001–2003), 2× PARADE High School Player of the Year (2002, 2003), 2× First-team Parade All-American (2002, 2003), Second-team Parade All-American (2001), Gatorade Male Athlete of the Year (2003), Naismith Prep Player of the Year (2003), McDonald’s National Player of the Year (2003), McDonald’s High School All-American (2003), McDonald’s Slam Dunk Contest winner (2003), McDonald’s All-American Game MVP (2003), EA Sports Roundball Classic MVP (2003), Jordan Brand Capital Classic MVP (2003), Morgan Wootten National Player of the Year (2003) 1st in career Value Over Replacement Player (VORP) (151.05), 35 more than next player, 3rd in career Box Plus/Minus (8.69), behind Nikola Jokic (9.79) and Michael Jordan (9.21), most consecutive double-digit scoring games (1,208), most combined points scored on birthday (303), most times named Conference Player of the Week (69), most times named Conference Player of the Month (41), most All-NBA First Team selections (13), most 10-point games in NBA history (1,510), most 20-point games (1,173), most 30-point games (563), 3rd in career Player Efficiency Rating (27.06), behind Nikola Jokic (28.08) and Michael Jordan (27.91), most seasons with at least 1,000 points (21), 3rd most seasons with at least 2,000 points (10), behind Karl Malone (12) and Michael Jordan (11), 4th most NBA MVP Awards (4), behind Kareem Abdul-Jabbar (6), Michael Jordan (5), Bill Russell (5), tied with Wilt Chamberlain (4), only player with at least 40,000 points, 11,000 rebounds, and 11,000 assists, only player with at least 30,000 points, 10,000 rebounds, and 10,000 assists, only player with at least 2,000 points, 500 rebounds, 500 assists, and 100 steals in four straight seasons, and in at least eight seasons, only player with at least 2,000 points, 500 rebounds, and 500 assists in at least eight seasons, only player to average at least 25 points per game for 20 straight seasons, only player in top 5 all-time in points, top 10 in assists and steals, only player with at least 10,000 rebounds and 10,000 assists, one of two players to win four MVPs in five years, with Bill Russell, one of two to win at least two MVPs with two franchises, with Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, one of two to win MVP, Finals MVP, and Olympic gold in same year, with Michael Jordan, one of two with at least four MVPs and four Finals MVPs, with Michael Jordan, one of two with a triple-double against all NBA teams, with Russell Westbrook, one of six to win consecutive Finals MVPs, with Michael Jordan, Shaquille O’Neal, Hakeem Olajuwon, Kobe Bryant, Kevin Durant, only player to score 10+ points in 1,000+ consecutive games, only player with 100 30-point games for three teams, only player with a 40-point game against all 30 teams. Only player to average at least 25 points, 8 assists, 50% FG, and 40% 3P in a season. his time is nigh

[lboogie1906]

Kevin Maurice Garnett (May 19, 1976) is a former basketball player who played for 21 seasons in the NBA. Nicknamed KG by his initials, and the “Big Ticket” for his emphatic dunking and athleticism, is considered one of the greatest power forwards of all time. He is one of five NBA players to have won both the NBA MVP Award and the NBA Defensive Player of the Year Award.

He was a 1995 McDonald’s All-American at Farragut Career Academy and won a national Player of the Year award. He entered the 1995 NBA draft, where he was selected with the fifth overall pick by the Minnesota Timberwolves and became the first NBA player drafted directly out of high school in 20 years. He made an immediate impact with the Minnesota Timberwolves, leading them to eight consecutive playoff appearances. He led the Timberwolves to the Western Conference Finals and won the NBA MVP Award. He was named the NBA Defensive Player of the Year (2007–08).

In 2007, after 12 seasons with the Timberwolves, he joined the Boston Celtics. He helped lead them to the 2008 NBA Finals while finishing in third place for the MVP award. In 2013, he was included in a second headline trade that sent him to the Brooklyn Nets. In 2015, he was traded back to Minnesota. He announced his retirement from professional basketball in September 2016. He was inducted into the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 2020 and named to the NBA 75th Anniversary Team in 2021.

He was named to 15 All-Star Games, winning the All-Star MVP award in 2003. He was named to the All-NBA Team nine times and to the NBA All-Defensive Team 12 times. He holds several Timberwolves franchise records.

He made his feature film debut, playing a fictionalized version of himself, in the 2019 film Uncut Gems.

He was born in Greenville, South Carolina to Shirley Garnett and O’Lewis McCullough.

He married his longtime girlfriend Brandi Padilla (2004-2018) and the couple has two daughters. He is the brother of former basketball player Louis McCullough. Another basketball player, former Los Angeles Laker Shammond Williams, is his cousin. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence

[monnologufe]

From akron to Global Icon: How LeBron James Impact extends far beyond the basketball Court

(Dec). N©1984ㅤ&:ㅤLeBron James: The King of Basketball and Beyond

LeBron James widely regarded as one of the greatest basketball players of all time, has left an indelible mark on the sport and transcended his role as an athlete to become a global icon. his story is not just about statistics championships or individual accolades but about his relentless pursuit of greatness and his influence both on and off the court. #Early Life and Rise to Fame

®GENERATIONAL STACKS ñ. “King James”

ㅤ

marked by an impressive list of accomplishments, including four NBA championships (2012, 2013, 2016, 2020), four NBA Most Valuable Player (MVP) awards, and 19 All-Star selections. His versatility on the court is what makes him so unique. At 6'9" and 250 pounds, LeBron has the size of a power forward but the passing ability of a point guard. He's known for his ability to play and defend multiple positions, making him one of the most well-rounded players in the history of the game. After seven years with the Cavaliers, LeBron made a highly publicized move to the Miami Heat in 2010, forming a "super team" with fellow stars Dwyane Wade and Chris Bosh.

While the decision to leave Cleveland was met with backlash, it proved to be the right one from a basketball standpoint. LeBron led the Heat to two championships in four consecutive NBA Finals appearances. In 2014, he returned to Cleveland, where he achieved perhaps his most iconic moment leading the Cavaliers to the 2016 NBA Championship coming back from a 3-1 deficit against the Golden State Warriors an accomplishment considered one of the greatest feats in sports history. LeBron's move to the Los Angeles Lakers in 2018 was another chapter in his storied career. In 2020 he delivered a championship to the Lakers cementing his legacy as a winner who could succeed in any environment

The Evolution of a Superstar Who Redefined the Game and Inspired a Generation

James produced 23 points (9-17 FG, 3-6 3Pt, 2-2 FT), four rebounds, seven assists and one block in 34 minutes during Tuesday's 122-110 loss to the Cavaliers:

Position: small Forward, Power Forward, Point Guard, Center, and Shooting Guard

fresh off his 40th birthday on Dec. 30, James scored over 20 points for the fourth consecutive outing, something he hadn't accomplished since a five-game stretch between Oct. 30 and Nov. 8 ended the final month of 2024 on a strong note with averages of 25.6 points, 6.8 rebounds and 8.6 assists across 10 outings

#Captain—⁠LeMerica iso LEGEND every bounce been point since tha warmups,Teen Phenom Became the Face of the NBA LAKERS and a Cultural Force conquered the NBA built a Legacy and continues to Inspire the World

see my future with the Los Angeles Lakers! If I'm fortunate enough to make it to the NBA I'll step onto the court proudly joining the Los Angeles Lakers as my ultimate team.

long history of winning championships about once or twice a decade: The Los Angeles Lakers are an American professional basketball team based in Los Angeles. The Lakers compete in the National Basketball Association as a member of the Pacific Division of the Western Conference

Quakers believe in doing good. They call it faith in action

Some Quakers believe in God, some dont Quakers welcome all faiths and none, they don't get hung up on beliefs

the history of the NBA with 17 championships

the Lakers compete in the National Basketball Association as a member of the Pacific Division of the Western Conference.

[fruitbasketball]

nba playoffs recap 5/17

my fault ab yesterdays shit y’all i just don’t give a fuck about the boston smelltics beating a spida-less cavalosers team and i’m trying not to jinx the mavs

anyway

only one game tonight and it was, perhaps, one of the nastiest blowouts in nba playoffs history. let’s get into nuggets v twolves game 6.

when ant talks, i want all you mfkers to drop what you’re doing, fall to your knees, and LISTEN. he said he was gonna see y’all for game 7. AND NOW HE’S GONNA SEE Y’ALL FOR GAME 7!!!

the real difference maker here is mike conley tho, and i wanna point that out. mike conley and jaden mcdaniels make a HUGE difference for minnesota. +23, +26 - absolutely nuts. indispensable. this entire starting 5 is so underrated bro like i get everyone hates gobert and it’s fun to hate him whatever - that’s a 4 time dpoy. you HAVE to respect the hustle.

but you DO NOT have to respect the defending national champions LMFAOOOOOO 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 fuckin AAU NUMBERS we’re putting up here bro 💀💀💀💀 getting held to 70 in a conference semifinals game when y’all are the CHAMPS??? is CRAZY. it’s NUTS. -25??? THIS y’all mvp??? snub luka again see what happens. denver fuckets blown out by 45 FUCKING POINTS. twolves and liberty shook hands and said we fuckin shit UP tn. and while the entire team played EXCEPTIONALLY ASS, i just want to highlight one reggie jackson. my guy HOW do you not fill a single section of the stat sheet and pollute the court for 12 whole minutes??? you not even playing enough defense to FOUL BRO?? even peyton watson was on the court for 2 less minutes, and he grabbed 4 boards, got a point and an assist. this team is ass bro. i don’t wanna hear shit about a repeat. this team is ass.

[tkachuktkaching]

No EA Cover, but Stock of Matthew Tkachuk Keeps Rising

Matthew Tkachuk will not be on the cover of the popular EA Sports NHL 24 — that honor is going to Colorado defenseman Cale Makar — but that does not mean the stock of the star Florida Panthers forward does not continue to rise.

Funny what a starring turn in the Stanley Cup playoffs do for a reputation, eh?

Although Tkachuk was looked at as one of the premier wingers in the NHL during his time with Calgary, his first season with the Panthers put him in another stratosphere as far as stardom goes.

Tkachuk has quickly become one of the most recognizable players in the league, his playing style and performance in big moments helping that along.

His emotional celebrations — and the ever-present hanging mouthguard — have not hurt.

On the day it was released that Makar would be on the cover of the popular video game, NHL Network released its top wings currently playing in the NHL.

Tkachuk was ranked No. 2 on what is, of course, a very subjective list. It is also a list made for just these times: The dead of summer.

At this time last year, Tkachuk was ranked No. 12 — with former Florida forward Jonathan Huberdeau, who was traded to Calgary as part of the Tkachuk deal ranked No. 5.

Huberdeau, after scoring just 55 points in his Calgary debut, is not among the NHL Network Top 20 this summer.

When it comes to this summer’s rankings, it is hard to quarrel with NHL Network’s Top 5 although these kind of lists, being as subjective as they are, can lead to some arguments about the actual rankings.

As it stands, Boston’s David Pastrnak is ranked No. 1 with Tkachuk right behind. Rounding out the Top 5 are Tampa Bay’s Nikita Kucherov, Colorado’s Mikko Rantanen and Jason Robertson of Dallas.

Mitch Marner, Kirill Kaprizov, Alex Ovechkin, Artemi Panarin and Brad Marchand make up the rest of the Top 10.

That is a pretty good neighborhood Tkachuk now occupies in the eyes of the rest of the NHL — and his house is right on the corner.

It is hard not to see how high Tkachuk’s stock has risen in the top year and it is certainly deserved.

Not only was he named the All-Star MVP here in Sunrise, but he finished third in Hart Trophy voting after recording his second consecutive 100-point season with 40 goals and 109 points which has five better than his previous career-high point total with the Flames prior to the trade.

Tkachuk certainly took a big step forward on the national stage during the postseason, making a bold statement after Game 5 in Boston that the Panthers would return for Game 7 despite having been down 3-1 in the series — and scoring twice in that Game 6 to ensure his team would indeed return to the Garden.

In 20 playoff games, Tkachuk scored 11 goals with 24 points — scoring four game-winning goals along the way including three in the Eastern Conference finals sweep of the Carolina Hurricanes.

His four-overtime winner against the Hurricanes in Game 1 was followed up with the game-winner in Game 2.

Those kind of big-time goals will get you noticed.

And, had it not been for a fractured sternum which he played through for a bit, who knows what Tkachuk’s numbers in the Stanley Cup Final would have looked like.

[vintagehoops]

Rita Williams Shots & Cards

WNBA All-Star Rita Williams played for the University of Connecticut and helped lead the Lady Huskies to three Big East Titles and a Final Four Appearance. Drafted 13th overall by the Mystics in 1998, she would later go on to play for the newly established Indiana Fever, being traded in the expansion draft after two seasons. She set the franchise record of 8 steals per game and was the only player to see action in every single season game — proving to be incredibly productive. She was on the WNBA traveling team, and was an All-Star in 2001.

At 5'6, she was a talented player that received numerous accolades from the start.In high school, she averaged 27 points, 6 assist, and 7 rebounds, leading her team to their first Class L championship, with MVP honors. Additional high school accomplishments include: Runner-up Class L State Championship her junior year, Parade Magazine All-American, USA Today All-American Honorable Mention, Daily Post All-American and a Class L State Chip her senior year and First Team All-State, First Team All-Conference both years. She finished high school career with 1,965 points.

College basketball was incredible for Williams, and her first year (at Mitchell Junior College) she led her team to the JC National Tournament with 17.2 points and 8.4 steals per game! At UConn, she recorded 107 steals (the third highest season total in Huskies history!!) as a junior, and as a senior was named the Most Outstanding Player of the 1998 Big East Championship with an average of 38 minutes, 16.7 points, 4.3 steals and 5.0 rebounds per game! Throughout her collegiate career she ranked 1st in mpg multiple times and was the 2nd team All-Big East select as a senior.

She also played overseas in Iceland

[kicksaddictny]

Introducing Nike Basketball’s Rookie Class of 2023

Nike’s roster of athletes is unmatched. From the greatest of all time to rising stars who are barrier breakers, we partner with the world’s best athletes with the goal of expanding sport for the next generation. To that end, Nike Basketball is proud to introduce its 2023 NBA Rookie Class. Together, these players represent the wave of the future, bringing the game to new heights. 

Anthony Black, Guard

Team: Orlando Magic

Last season, he was the only player in University of Arkansas history to reach more than 450 points, 180 rebounds and 140 assists in a season. 

He was also the only player in the SEC to reach the top 25 in scoring, rebounding, assists, steals and blocked shots. 

Kobe Brown, Forward

Team: Los Angeles Clippers

In Kobe’s senior year at the University of Missouri, he became the third Division I player in the last 25 seasons to score 30 points in back-to-back games against nationally ranked teams. 

He was the only Division I player in the nation last year to shoot 55 percent from the field and 45 percent from three-point range. 

Bilal Coulibaly, Guard

Team: Washington Wizards

He was quickly promoted to his senior-level French team after averaging 21.9 PPG, 2.6 SPG and 1.2 BPG.

He represents France at the international level.

Keyonte George, Guard

Team: Utah Jazz

His 506 points as a freshman at Baylor University were the second most in school history.

He holds the Baylor record for most 20-point games in program history.

Jordan Hawkins, Guard

Team: New Orleans Pelicans

He’s made the second most three-pointers in a single season in University of Connecticut program history, behind only Ray Allen.

He helped lead UConn to win the 2023 NCAA National Title. 

Dereck Lively II

Team: Dallas Mavericks

A five-star center out of Pennsylvania, he was ranked the No. 1 player overall in the state's class of 2022. ESPN ranked him the No. 1 High School Basketball Player in the class of 2022.

His 82 blocked shots last season were the second most by a Duke University freshman in a single season.

Olivier-Maxence Prosper, Forward

Team: Dallas Mavericks

He was a nationally ranked recruit from the class of 2020, concluding his high school career at the NBA’s Latin American Academy in Mexico City.

During NBA Summer League 2023, he averaged 12.6 PPG and 5.4 RPG at 25.4 MPG.

Brandon Miller, Forward

Team: Charlotte Hornets

At the University of Alabama, he became the first conference player ever to win SEC Player of the Year, SEC Freshman of the Year, and SEC Tournament MVP in the same season.

He led all Division I freshmen in scoring last year.

Amen Thompson, Forward

Team: Houston Rockets

In the 2023 NBA Draft, he was the No. 4 overall pick.

He averaged 16.4 PPG, 5.9 APG and 5.9 RPG during the OTE 2022-23 regular season.

Ausar Thompson, Forward

Team: Detroit Pistons 

A five-star recruit out of high school, he won a state title at Pine Crest High School with his brother Amen in Fort Lauderdale, Fla.

In the OTE 2022-23 season, he was named the regular-season MVP and finals MVP, averaging 21.0 PPG, 4.8 APG and 5.2 RPG.

Julian Strawther, Forward

Team: Denver Nuggets

He averaged a double-double in high school at 31.5 PPG and 11.1 RPG.

He represents Puerto Rico at the international level.

Cason Wallace, Guard

Team: Oklahoma City Thunder

In high school, he was awarded two separate Player of the Year honors in the state of Texas.

Last year, at the University of Kentucky, he ranked among the NCAA leaders in assists per game, assist-to-turnover ratio, and steals per game.

Victor Wembanyama, Forward

Team: San Antonio Spurs

After winning the Pro A title with ASVEL of the EuroLeague, he went on to play for the Metropolitans 92 where he earned the league's title for scoring and blocks with an average of 21.6 PPG and 3.0 BPG during the 2022-23 season.

He was the No. 1 overall pick for the NBA 2023 Draft.

[bleacherbanter]

Championship Choke? Thunder's Game 6 Turnover Nightmare Pushes Finals to Game 7!

Banter Nation, sometimes a team just has "that night." For the Oklahoma City Thunder in Thursday's Game 6 of the NBA Finals, that night was an absolute disaster, turning what could have been their championship crowning into a humiliating blowout. They lost 108-91 to the Indiana Pacers, sending the series to a winner-take-all Game 7.

SGA's Sloppy Night Sets the Tone

From the opening minutes, it was clear something was off. On just the second possession, Shai Gilgeous-Alexander, the presumed Finals MVP if the Thunder had clinched, lost his dribble to a swarming Pacers defense. A minute later, Andrew Nembhard picked his pocket. These early turnovers were glaring red flags for what would become arguably the Thunder's worst performance of the season.

"The way I see it is, we sucked tonight," Gilgeous-Alexander bluntly stated after the game. His eight turnovers tied a career-high, a shockingly high number for a guard known for his elite ball security.

A Cascade of Carelessness

SGA's struggles were contagious. The Thunder finished with a staggering 21 turnovers, their most in any of their 104 games this season. Alex Caruso summed it up perfectly: "We tried to do too much one-on-one. They were active with their hands and aggressive defensively. We were just a little slow."

The desperate Pacers, with their backs against the wall, capitalized on every miscue. They flew around the court, pouncing on loose balls and turning OKC's carelessness into easy transition points. This fueled an already electric Indiana crowd, transforming what was a tense atmosphere into a full-blown Game 6 party.

"That’s uncharacteristic for us to turn it over like that," Thunder coach Mark Daigneault lamented. "That led to fast-break points. I thought that’s what ignited them."

Take Jalen Williams' attempt to fling an outlet pass in the first quarter, for example. T.J. McConnell sniffed it out, deflected it, outhustled the Thunder to the steal, and then set up Obi Toppin for an open three – a momentum-swinging play that epitomized the Pacers' hunger.

Road Woes: Three-Point Troubles Persist

This Game 6 loss echoed their Game 3 defeat in Indianapolis, where SGA had six turnovers and the Thunder coughed it up 19 times. A recurring problem for OKC on the road in this series has been their anemic three-point shooting and low volume. In their three losses in Indianapolis, they've shot a woeful 30.4% from deep, averaging just 23 attempts per game, a far cry from their regular-season average of 38.8.

"It’s definitely been an issue in some of these games," Daigneault admitted, acknowledging the Pacers' defensive pressure played a role in disrupting their rhythm.

Game 7: Redemption or Ruin?

Now, the stage is set for Game 7 back in Oklahoma City. While the Thunder will be significant favorites at home (home teams are 15-4 in NBA Finals Game 7s), they were also favorites in Game 1 and lost. They've put themselves in serious danger again, much like their Western Conference Semifinals series against the Denver Nuggets, where they blew a Game 6 with a no-show before winning Game 7 in a blowout.

"I see it as the same thing," Gilgeous-Alexander said, drawing parallels to their previous do-or-die situations. "If we lose [on Sunday], the season is over in the wrong way. Either way, I would have been extremely disappointed, so I don’t think it’s any different."

The Thunder know the stakes. As SGA succinctly put it: "One game for everything you ever dreamed of. If you win it, you get everything. If you lose it, you get nothing. It’s that simple.”

Can the Thunder bounce back from their Game 6 nightmare and deliver a championship performance on their home court? Or will the resilient Pacers pull off the ultimate upset? Get ready, Banter Nation – Sunday night is going to be epic!

[emilpo]

Top 5 Pinakamataas na Score sa Premier Volleyball League

Ang Premier Volleyball League (PVL) ay tahanan ng ilan sa mga pinakamahusay na atleta ng Pilipinas. Sa paglipas ng mga season, may mga manlalaro na nangibabaw sa pamamagitan ng kanilang pambihirang scoring performance. Narito ang Top 5 Pinakamataas na Score sa Premier Volleyball League ng mga lokal na manlalaro, kabilang ang mga superstar tulad nina Diana Mae Carlos at Alyssa Valdez. Mula sa intense All-Filipino tournaments hanggang sa collegiate showdowns, ipinakita ng mga babaeng atleta na may tapang, lakas, at determinasyon silang makuha ang pinakamataas na puntos sa isang laban.

Alamin ang Top 5 Pinakamataas na Score sa Premier Volleyball League ng mga lokal na manlalaro tulad nina Diana Mae Carlos at Alyssa Valdez. Sino ang nagrehistro ng pinakamataas na puntos?

1. Diana Mae Carlos

Koponan: Creamline Cool Smashers

Kalaban: Cignal HD Spikers

Puntos: 38 points

Kumperensiya: 2024 All-Filipino

Kasulukuyang may hawak ng pinakamataas na puntos sa isang laro ng lokal na manlalaro.

Si Diana Mae “Tots” Carlos (ipinanganak noong Hulyo 7, 1998) ay isang kilalang volleyball player mula sa Pilipinas na kasalukuyang naglalaro para sa Creamline Cool Smashers sa PVL. Dati siyang miyembro ng UP Lady Fighting Maroons, sa parehong indoor at beach volleyball teams. Noong 2024 All-Filipino Conference, nagtala siya ng kanyang pinakamataas na score na 38 points laban sa Cignal — ang pinakamataas sa kasaysayan ng PVL para sa isang lokal na manlalaro.

Noong 2022, tinanghal siyang Back-to-Back Most Valuable Player (MVP) at Best Opposite Spiker sa parehong PVL Open Conference at PVL Invitational Conference. Siya rin ay naging bahagi ng Philippine Women’s National Volleyball Team na lumahok sa 2022 Asian Women’s Volleyball Cup.

2. Alyssa Valdez

Koponan: Creamline Cool Smashers

Kalaban: BaliPure Purest Water Defenders

Puntos: 37 points

Kumperensiya: 2017 Open

Tinaguriang “Phenom”, isa sa mga pinakasikat at pinakamahusay na manlalaro ng bansa.

Si Alyssa Valdez ay isa sa pinakakilalang volleyball player sa Pilipinas. Siya ay kasalukuyang naglalaro para sa Creamline Cool Smashers sa Premier Volleyball League (PVL) at kilala sa bansag na “The Phenom” dahil sa kanyang husay, dedikasyon, at tagal sa pagiging top performer sa liga.

Si Alyssa Valdez ay dating star ng Ateneo Lady Eagles at tumulong sa pagkapanalo ng UAAP championships. Sa PVL, isa siya sa mga top scorers at leaders. Noong 2017 Open Conference, nagtala siya ng kanyang pinakamataas na score na 37 points kontra BaliPure — isa sa pinakamataas na puntos ng lokal na manlalaro sa kasaysayan ng liga.

Bilang bahagi rin ng Philippine National Volleyball Team, si Alyssa ay kinatawan ng bansa sa iba’t ibang international tournaments at paligsahan.

3. Katrina Mae Tolentino

Koponan: Choco Mucho Flying Titans

Kalaban: Chef’s Classics Lady Red Spikers

Puntos: 36 points

Kumperensiya: 2019 Open

Malakas at matangkad na outside hitter na kilala sa kanyang offensive power.

Si Katrina Mae Tolentino, mas kilala bilang Kat Tolentino, ay isang prominenteng Filipino volleyball player na kilala sa kanyang taas, lakas, at matatag na presence bilang opposite hitter. Siya ay kasalukuyang bahagi ng Choco Mucho Flying Titans sa Premier Volleyball League (PVL).

Pagpasok niya sa Premier Volleyball League (PVL), agad siyang nagpakitang-gilas. Noong 2019 Open Conference, si Kat ay nagtala ng kanyang pinakamataas na score na 36 points laban sa Chef’s Classics Lady Red Spikers — isang performance na itinuturing na isa sa mga pinakamataas na naitala ng isang lokal na manlalaro sa buong kasaysayan ng liga. Sa kanyang taas, lakas, at husay bilang opposite spiker, si Kat ay patuloy na itinuturing na isa sa mga haligi ng women’s volleyball sa Pilipinas.

Si Kat ay kilala rin sa kanyang consistent performance sa blocking at attacking, at madalas itinuturing bilang isa sa mga pinaka-maaasahang opposite hitters sa bansa.

4. Brooke Van Sickle

Koponan: Petro Gazz Angels

Kalaban: Chery Tiggo Crossovers

Puntos: 36 points

Kumperensiya: 2024 All-Filipino

Isa sa mga rising stars ng PVL, mabilis, maliksi at consistent sa scoring.

Si Brooke Van Sickle ay isang Fil-American volleyball player na mabilis naging kilala sa Premier Volleyball League (PVL) dahil sa kanyang explosive plays, athleticism, at scoring ability. Siya ay kasalukuyang naglalaro para sa Petro Gazz Angels at isa sa mga top scorers sa bagong henerasyon ng liga.

Noong 2024 All-Filipino Conference, si Brooke Van Sickle ay nagtala ng kanyang pinakamataas na score na 36 points laban sa Chery Tiggo Crossovers, na nagtali sa kanya sa ikatlong puwesto bilang isa sa mga pinakamataas na scoring local players sa kasaysayan ng PVL.

Dahil sa kanyang Filipino roots at galing sa international play, si Brooke ay inaasahang magiging mahalagang bahagi ng kinabukasan ng Philippine volleyball.

5. Faith Janine Shirley Nisperos

Koponan: Ateneo Lady Eagles

Kalaban: Benilde Lady Blazers

Puntos: 35 points

Kumperensiya: 2019 Collegiate

Beteranang collegiate standout na nagmarka agad sa pro scene.

Si Faith Janine Shirley Nisperos ay isang batang volleyball star mula sa Pilipinas na kilala sa kanyang all-around skills at leadership sa court. Siya ay naging standout player ng Ateneo Lady Eagles, kung saan pinangunahan niya ang koponan bilang top scorer at team captain.

Noong 2019 PVL Collegiate Conference, si Faith ay nagtala ng kanyang pinakamataas na score na 35 points laban sa Benilde Lady Blazers — isang malaking tagumpay para sa isang collegiate athlete. Sa kanyang lakas, galing sa opensa, at mentalidad bilang lider, si Faith ay patuloy na kinikilala bilang isa sa mga rising stars ng Philippine volleyball.

Ngayon, si Faith ay inaasahang magpapatuloy ng kanyang pro career sa PVL at posibleng maging mahalagang bahagi ng Philippine national team sa hinaharap.

Mga Madalas Itanong (FAQ)

1.Sino ang may pinakamataas na score sa kasaysayan ng PVL para sa lokal na manlalaro?

Si Diana Mae “Tots” Carlos na may 38 points noong 2024 All-Filipino Conference.

2.Ilan ang puntos na nakuha ni Alyssa Valdez sa kanyang highest scoring game?

37 points laban sa BaliPure noong 2017 Open Conference.

3.Sino ang pinakabatang nakapasok sa Top 5 highest scorers?

Si Faith Nisperos, na nagtala ng 35 points bilang collegiate player noong 2019.

[newssphere0]

Women's tackle football has 2 leagues whose championship games are on ESPN2

Women have been playing tackle football for decades, usually under the radar. Two leagues, operating independently, are helping the sport get more attention. The Women’s Football Alliance will be back on ESPN2 for its championship game on July 26 at Tom Benson Hall of Fame Stadium in Canton, Ohio, where MVP jerseys from previous title games are on display. The Women’s National Football Conference…

[propicsmedia]

The Air India Bombing Story You Need to Know! 1984 Air India Bombing Conference Significance - The Air India Bombing Story You Need to Know! **CLIP FROM**  ProPics TV News - Live Chat With James Episode MAY 22, 2025   - ProPicsTV on Youtube    -Trump's New Plane,  -Israeli Embassy Staff Killed in DC  -Update on Sullivan Children  -and more on local, national and international news of importance.     #news #breakingnews #Surreyhospital #israelnews #israelembassy #Embassystaffshot #canada #news #headlines #worldnews #surreybc #headlinenews #vancouver #biden #britishcolumbia #NBA #MVP #NBAMVP #nhl #nhlplayoffs #Oilers #Stars #Playoffs #Qatarplane #TrumpCorruption #Trump #Hegseth #MarcoRubio #PamBondi #FBI #Surreycourts #Crimenews #ProPicsTV #AirIndia #mcmasteruniversity #1985 #1984 #FEMA #shaigilgeousalexander #JackSullivan #LilySullivan #Cyberattack #UnionofPostalWorkers #CandaPost #CanadaPostStrike