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Before His Appendectomy, Joel Embiid Went to the Hospital Because he Couldn’t Poop, and That’s the Problem
By Matt Schultz
Published:
After the Sixers blowout loss to the Celtics on Sunday night, Joel Embiid opened up to reporters about his symptoms that ultimately led to emergency appendectomy surgery a couple weeks back:
“I was just up until like four in the morning, and I was like, ‘Yeah, I need help.’ And, you know, you go to the bathroom, you can’t poop, nothing’s coming out. You can’t even walk. So that’s why I had to tell them. I’m like, like ‘Something’s very wrong here.’”
See, this is the problem: I don’t hear the heart of a champion here. I hear a guy prioritizing his bowel movements over basketball, and frankly, I’m tired of it. If Joel actually cared about winning in the playoffs, he would’ve gladly stored up tons of shit up in his stomach and carried on. But he’s soft. He’s mentally weak. He feels a few dozen pounds of shit sloshing around inside of him that refuses to come out and he cries his way all the way to the hospital – instead of being a man, asking the team for a larger jersey that fits over his distended belly that’s swelled up to the size of a bowling ball with extra shit, and playing basketball.
We all know the playoffs are a grind. This time of year, the majority of NBA players are carrying around weeks’ worth of shit in their guts. They’re in pain. They’re on the toilet pushing for hours to no avail. They wipe their asses and check the toilet paper to find a perfectly white sheet staring back at them, taunting them, mocking them. Then what do they do? Do they cry? Do they call 911? No. They stand up, pull up their shorts, and get back on the court. But not Joel. He’s waddling all the way to the emergency room, begging for someone to suck all the shits out of him with some sort of medical vacuum. It’s pathetic.
Do you think Michael Jordan would go to the hospital over this? Kobe? No chance. They would let their insides carry years’ worth of shit. Even after their bellybuttons balloon into outies because of all the shit pressing against their stomach lining, they’d still only be thinking about ball. They’d be daydreaming about placing the Larry O’Brien trophy on their alarmingly swollen stomachs like it’s a shelf. They’d swing their shit-filled tummies into defenders on fadeaways to get more separation. That’s because they were winners. But not Joel. He simply doesn’t have what it takes.
Here’s to hoping that someday soon, this crybaby era of Sixers basketball will end, and Tyrese Maxey and VJ Edgecombe will lead Philly to the promised land while carrying copious amounts of shit inside them – all without complaining even once.
Matt Schultz is a comedy and sports writer from Philadelphia. He’s written extensively for ClickHole, The Onion, and Conan O’Brien’s Team Coco. His work has been featured in Vulture, Deadspin, The A.V. Club, Paste Magazine, and other publications. Much of his sports journalism can be found on college basketball websites that don’t exist anymore (PhilaHoops Heads rise up…)