Congratulations to Marcus Hayes, Who Wrote His Worst Column of All-Time Today

Marcus Hayes is fat. Roger Ebert used to be. Perhaps Hayes could learn a thing or two from Ebert.

That’s about the extent of the logic applied to Hayes’ most recent column, in which he explains, so artfully, that Nerlens Noel and Jahlil Okafor, who don’t exactly mesh well, because having two mostly one-dimensional big men on the floor at the same time in the NBA IS HARD, could learn a thing or two from Penn women’s basketball twin towers Michelle Nwokedi and Sydney Stipanovich, two 6’3 post players dominating the Ivy League.

Behold, Marcus’ simplistic argument:

The story is enticingly parallel: Local team acquires two elite, teenaged post players. There, the plot diverges.

One pair quickly expand their skills and develop a selfless chemistry that their experienced coach exploits into an attack unprecedented in league history. The other pair, with limited skills, confound their inexperienced coach as part of the worst team in NBA history.

Stipanovich and Nwokedi, Penn’s 6-3 twin towers, on Tuesday night lead the Quakers to Princeton, winner-take-all, for the Ivy League title and its automatic NCAA Tournament bid.

The Sixers’ 7-footers should make the trip. They might learn something about synergy.

For fuck’s sake. I’m now convinced that Marcus Hayes can’t possibly be this stupid to crowbar in this Noel and Okafor comparison because he thinks it actually bolsters his point, whatever that may be. He can’t possibly think that you can just equate the recipe for women’s basketball success in the Ivy League with blending two NBA lottery picks at the game’s highest level. He’s trolling for clicks, and goddammit, he’s getting them.

If Hayes gets sent to write a puff piece on Penn women’s basketball, no one is going to read it. Like, literally no one except for the subjects, their parents, and maybe one assistant coach who wants to see if he finally got his name in print to use in his portfolio when he applies for the big-time gig coaching Albany. Look! Look! I am somebody! But, if Hayes, whose head is actually a poop Emoji (it has baffled physicians for years), knows that if he includes an outrageous comparison to the situation in the Sixers’ front court, then people will actually notice and, thus, allow us to all catch the wafting shit scent emanating from what should be his human face.

I mean, there are screenplay adaptations of chick-lit with more nuance than this:

“We’re best friends! Hello!” Stipanovich said, with a toothy Missouri smile. “Jackie and I are roommates, but we call Michelle our third roommate.”

“I’m there all the time,” Nwokedi said, with a slight Houston twang.

Noel and Okafor can’t share the paint, much less a living room.

Nwokedi’s favorite ice cream?

“Chocolate?” Stipanovich guessed. Correct.

Okafor might be lactose intolerant. Don’t ask Nerlens.

Kansas City or Texas barbecue?

“Oh, Texas!” Nwokedi said. “She doesn’t do barbecue anyway. You name all the salads, she’ll eat those.”

“Burgers and fries for her,” Stipanovich said.

For all Okafor knows, Noel might be vegan.

“You know, we just click,” Nwokedi said. “Whenever I find something out, Sydney is the first person I text.”

Sometimes, you wonder whether Okafor even has Noel’s number.