Tina and I walked up on these fly dudes. It was three of them. One had on a throwback, some jeans, and some sneaks and a hat that matched the jersey. The second one had on a baby blue mink, a baby blue and white Sean John sweatshirt, some dark blue jeans, and some baby blue, dark blue, and white sneaks. The third one had on a tan long-sleeve T with a picture of Bob Marley on the front, some jeans, and some Tims. His accessories brought out his outfit-an iced-out Breitling, a platinum chain with an icy L, and a pair of studs that had to be at least two carats each.

Throwback was light brown with big hazel eyes that locked on mine and followed my every move. Tina was on Baby Blue Mink, who was dark-skinned and stocky. Iceman was caramel-colored with dimples. I was on him too. I wouldn’t have minded having him and Throwback.

Tina and me stopped in the flow of traffic and walked over to the side to introduce ourselves.

“You might as well put my number in there while you at it,” Tina told the guy with the blue mink on as he was pressing buttons on his two-way sidekick.

“Oh, I’m two steps ahead of you, shawty. What it is?” Blue Mink asked with a heavy southern accent.

Tina recited her cell number. Meanwhile, I started talking to Throwback. We first exchanged names and numbers. Then we had a brief conversation about my outfit and how good I looked in it. After a couple laughs and flirtatious comments, we parted ways. We couldn’t be standing around with niggas for too long because there were too many more ballers that we wanted to get acquainted with.

From what we saw when we weren’t in the hall, the game was pretty good. We had courtside seats too, so that made it even better. We got to see all those fine-ass athletes up close and personal. Kobe Bryant did his thing, despite the crowd’s boos. And A.I. put on a good show too. But I must say, I was more excited to see Michael Jordan play. In his whole career I had not seen him play.