A Day in the Life of the 76ers Quarantine

Bill Streicher-USA TODAY Sports

We’re all miserable, let’s face it. COVID-19 has us all locked indoors, staring at the same four walls day in and day out, forcing us to actually speak to our loved ones on a daily basis with no way to escape.

It’s a living HELL… but we can take solace in the fact that nobody is immune to social distancing. It’s almost comforting to know that the professional athletes we watch are housebound and stir crazy, albeit in extravagant mansions with every luxury at their fingertips and not squatting in ramshackle lean-tos under 295 South overpasses.

Two weeks ago the 76ers were playing in front of thousands a night. Now? They’re trapped, same as we are, wondering when this nightmare will all be over.

But what are they doing every day? Do they get up and stare into the ether, muttering nonsensical nothings to themselves for hours at a time like the author of this column? Do they work out? Play videogames? Pretend to read? What?

Delving into my vast web of sources (meaning all of this is untrue) we’ve broken open some key moments during the quarantine day for members of the 76ers franchise.

7:04 a.m. – Matisse Thybulle wakes up screaming, drenched in a cold sweat, suffering yet again from nightmares of forgotten Popeye’s biscuits and misremembered Chick-fil-A orders.

7:49 a.m. – Brett Brown logs on to Twitter under a burner account. Sees fans still clamoring for him to be fired during a global pandemic that threatens their very existence. Throws another iPhone into the garbage disposal, after a botched DHO with his dog.

8:30 a.m. – Josh Richardson watches as 13 text messages from Howard Eskin, riddled with misspellings, flood his inbox. One refers to him as “Jayson.” Another asks why he hasn’t “dented a proporortion of yore celery to sucker envelopes like Johel.” A third is just a random string of syllables followed by a fist emoji. Curses the decision to give Eskin his personal phone number.

9:08 a.m. – An empty Shirley Temple pitcher in Joel Embiid’s apartment is gathering dust as the talented center pats himself on the back for not giving into temptation once during the quarantine and breaking his finely tuned, trainer-mandated diet.

9:10 a.m. – The sound of a Shirley Temple packet being opened echoes through Embiid’s apartment.

9:11 a.m. – First Shirley Temple is consumed of what will surely be several pitchers to come. Embiid fires up an all-day Shark Tank marathon as he pours another glass. Nods at the screen approvingly as Mr. Wonderful asks for a royalty deal on some piece of worthless crap.

10:26 a.m. – Al Horford finishes Tiger King. Completely misses point. Buys tiger.

11:04 a.m. – Josh Harris isn’t close to guessing correct cost of a gallon of milk during first pricing game on “The Price is Right.”

11:06 a.m. – “I don’t know…$12.97?” Harris guesses for 99-cent can of Del Monte green beans.

11:15 a.m. – Michael Rubin rejects second FaceTime request of the morning from Macklemore.

11:47 a.m. – Howard Eskin texts Richardson a blurry, unfocused picture of his own face with a question mark caption.

12:37 p.m. – Thybulle receives a text from Kyle O’Quinn asking for an order of 50 Chick-fil-A biscuits. He curls into the fetal position and closes eyes for the rest of the afternoon… and posts his frustration on TikTok.

1:49 p.m. – In what has become a daily occurrence, Ben Simmons ignores several frantic phone calls from Raul Neto, who has been locked inside the Wells Fargo Center since it was shut down two weeks ago.

2:24 p.m. – A drunken, shirtless Marc Zumoff laying on his couch screams at his television yet again while watching Adam Sandler’s remake of The Longest Yard on TBS. “Paul Crewe isn’t throwing the game he’s being blackmailed BY THAT GODDAMN PRISON WARDEN! DAMNIT MEAN MACHINE, COME TOGETHER LIKE A TEAM.”

3:19 p.m. – Alaa Abdelnaby puts his phone on silent after four straight calls from Zumoff wanting to discuss The Longest Yard for third time in the week.

4:12 p.m. – “Uhh hey Mike, does that hair dye come in men’s colors? Missanelli sucks!” Embiid yells into his phone while prank calling the Mike Missanelli Show, a red stain ringing his mouth, as he cackles in laughter and reaches for the 7th Shirley Temple jug of the day.

5:14 p.m. – The Fanatic issues a station wide ban of Embiid.

6:37 p.m. – Furkan Korkmaz calls Simmons to see how he’s doing. “Who is this?” A confused Simmons asks after picking up the phone. Doesn’t bother to feign embarrassment when Korkmaz tells him who he is.

7:45 p.m. – Mike Scott sighs and tries to figure out best way to tell hipster doofuses to stop sending him pictures of their Mike Scott Hive tattoos after quarantine is over.

8:23 p.m. – Glenn Robinson III still wondering if Brown will tell him what his role on team is.

9:01 p.m. – Tobias Harris emerges from study after poring through ancient leather-clad volumes of Proust and Friedrich Nietzsche. Contemplates writing own edict to support egalitarian modernity and argue against the moral vacuum of nihilism, but decides humanity isn’t ready yet.

10:12 p.m. – Alec Burks regrets putting off renting an apartment before global pandemic as he blows up leaky air mattress in Norvel Pelle’s rumpus room.

11:59 p.m. – Richardson receives text from Eskin that just says “Lawrence?” Decides to change number tomorrow morning.


12 Responses

  1. anyone want to make me an offer on the NY blog I bought? EliteSportsNY??

    I’m a shrewd business man!

    1. i’ll make you an offer you sniveling greedy elitest white prick.
      I’ll allow you to keep tossing my salad
      and will only throw you a beating every other weekeday.

  2. My quarantine is not bad at all. Staying on my 12 acres in Newtown Square. 6,500 sqft house which I built and owe hardly anything on at all. Tons of frozen deer and elk meat, because I’m a real man. Tons of top shelf liquor. Tons of high end New England ipa’s. No student loan debt. Life is good. Especially when you’re a white American man.

    How’s your little apartment treating you Rowhome?


    1. I don’t rally notice my row home much.
      Especially when you old lady is gobbling for the 3rd time today.
      Another week and i’ll have her trained real good and she won’t make
      any funny faces when she swallows as i pinch her nose shut.

      1. If you are going to burn someone, you might want to take an English class first chief.

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