FAMILY & MONEY

Ben Simmons reportedly in step & with 76ers trading him

Ben Simmons and his agent, Klutch Sports CEO Rich Paul, are “in step” with the Sixers‘ efforts to trade the 25-year-old to a new team, reports ESPN’s Adrian Wojnarowski.
Sources tell Wojnarowski that the 76ers continue to canvass the NBA exploring potential trades involving Simmons and have established a “steep” asking price. While a draft-night trade is a possibility, the discussions may continue into the summer, according to Wojnarowski.
It remains unclear which teams will emerge as the most serious suitors for Simmons. A report earlier Wednesday indicated that the Heat, Wizards and Raptors are possibilities. However, a subsequent report threw cold water on the Miami scenario, and Washington is likely only a realistic landing spot if Bradley Beal is going to Philadelphia — so far, there’s no indication Beal wants out of D.C.
Toronto’s interest in Simmons has been reported by multiple outlets, but it’s unclear if there’s a realistic match between the two division rivals.

Matt Moore of ActionNetwork.com reported earlier this week that the Sixers proposed a framework that included Kyle Lowry (via sign-and-trade), Fred VanVleet, OG Anunoby and the fourth overall pick, which Toronto obviously rejected. If that report is accurate and Philadelphia’s asking price remains anywhere near that high, it’s probably safe to assume the Raptors will look elsewhere for roster upgrades.
Meanwhile, as Jeff Garcia of News 4 San Antonio relays, Kevin O’Connor said on The Ringer’s The Mismatch podcast that the Sixers are rumored to have asked the Spurs for four first-round picks, three pick swaps and a young player in exchange for Simmons.
O’Connor added that he doesn’t expect Simmons to be moved unless Sixers president of basketball operations Daryl Morey drastically lowers his asking price or a player like Beal or Trail Blazers star Damian Lillard becomes available and Philadelphia uses Simmons as the centerpiece of an offer. […]

FAMILY & MONEY

Deandre Ayton on Suns trailing in NBA Finals: I like it;

Most players would be quite unhappy to be facing elimination in the NBA Finals, particularly after holding a 2-0 series lead. Deandre Ayton apparently isn’t one of them.
The Phoenix Suns center said after Saturday’s Game 5 loss that he liked that the team was now the underdog against the Milwaukee Bucks, adding that it’s “more fun” to be the desperate team.
“I like it. It’s fun; the tables are turned now,” Ayton said, via Mark Medina of USA Today. “Now we’re the desperate team. We had our chances of being up and trying to finish the job, now we’re in the same position that they were in. They’re up, and now we got to go get it. That’s why it’s a little bit more fun.”

It’s anyone’s guess whether Ayton is trying to talk himself into that mindset or he’s just enjoying the pressure. The Suns have battled and overcome adversity all season, and maybe that attitude has something to do with it. Still, it’s a safe bet that even if Ayton likes this spot, he’d much rather be up in the series or have it clinched already.
Ayton scored 22 points and pulled down 19 rebounds in Game 1, his best performance of the Finals so far. He might have to be that good again for the Suns to win in Milwaukee and force Game 7. He certainly won’t want to end up on the wrong end of one of the biggest plays of the series again either. […]

FAMILY & MONEY

Team USA vs. Australia basketball exhibition game canceled due to COVID protocols

Team USA Basketball announced on Thursday that its upcoming exhibition game against Australia has been canceled.Friday’s game against Australia would have been the fourth of five scheduled exhibition games for the U.S. Men’s National Team. The team lost its first two exhibition games before bouncing back to beat Argentina on Tuesday. They were scheduled for a rematch against Australia, but health and safety protocols will prevent that. […]

FAMILY & MONEY

Team USA players struggling with not getting NBA superstar calls in exhibitions

Team USA Basketball is 1-2 so far in exhibition games ahead of the Olympics. Their two losses match the total amount of losses Team USA had in exhibition games from 1992 until this summer.
So, why is the team struggling?
Some of it has to do with the lack of rest some players had between the end of the NBA season and the start of international play. Some has to do with the team barely practicing together before embarking in games. Some has to do with poor defensive efforts. But another very big factor has been the lack of “superstar calls” the NBA players are used to receiving.
In a story published on Yahoo, Chris B. Haynes stated that multiple players like Bradley Beal and Jayson Tatum were staring down officials after not getting the star treatment to which they are accustomed.

Here is an example of Damian Lillard not getting a foul call he was expecting: […]

FAMILY & MONEY

The Teams that never won a championship quiz

If the Milwaukee Bucks go on to win this season’s NBA Championship, the Phoenix Suns will look back at Game 4 and wonder how they let that one slip away. An all-around awful game from Chris Paul and a missed foul call on Devin Booker certainly provide some answers. Now tied at two games apiece, things shift back to Arizona for Game 5. Head coach Monty Williams hopes he can stop the proverbial bleeding, while Coach Bud and the Bucks will try to win their first away game of the Finals. If successful, Giannis and company would then have the opportunity to close things out in Game 6 in front of their home crowd in Milwaukee. The festivities get underway Saturday at 9 PM ET on ABC.Which brings us to today’s quiz of the day. A total of 40 teams in the big four North American men’s sports leagues (NFL, MLB, NBA, and NHL) have never won their respective leagues’ modern championships. The Suns hope they will soon take their name off this list. So with that in mind, how many of the 40 teams can you name in five minutes?Good luck! […]

FAMILY & MONEY

I Post Nudes On Reddit For Validation And My Boyfriend Doesn’t Know

My boyfriend hasn’t initiated sex in over two years. I’m 24 and can count the amount of times we’ve ‘done it’ on one hand, in the same period. This is how I got here.Our relationship started, four years ago, with the typical honeymoon phase of wild sex every day of the week, but as his career as an EDM (electronic dance music) producer took off, we spent months apart as he toured. We got used to not having sex and heated arguments tarnished the mood upon his return ­­– provoked by my growing insecurities over attention from other girls. He could never let go of my accusations and as his fame rocketed, my self-worth plummeted.Then came the physical problems. He developed a pain during sex and became afraid to try. I didn’t want to hurt him either and could empathise as I’d gone through a similar situation at 19 with vaginismus, a spasm in my pelvic floor muscles which meant sex was excruciating and literally impossible. My boyfriend started to avoid sex and develop performance anxiety even after the physical pain had stopped. It fell to me to initiate intimacy and he’d often refuse. Society tells us men want sex 24/7 but my boyfriend has truly lost all interest. In our many teary conversations, he’s admitted that if thinks about never having sex again for the rest of his life, it doesn’t bother him. He’s aware this is a deal breaker for me as I’m a sexual, tactile person and is crippled with guilt, but nothing seems to improve the situation. I can’t help but feel that perhaps he just isn’t attracted to me, even though he assures me he is.

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We’re too young for this. I need physical touch. But we’re best friends and I love him. I’m too embarrassed to talk it through with my friends, they’d never understand, which is when I first turned to Reddit. I joined a Dead Bedrooms support group for people going through sexual intimacy problems in their relationships and found some solace in speaking to others, though they’re usually all married middle-aged men, which makes me feel frustrated. I decided that sending nudes could be the answer. I needed my boyfriend to start seeing me as a sexual being. But how can you tell which images look good? I had no faith in my sex appeal at this point and the thought of sending photos that are meant to turn someone on to my friends was mortifying. At any rate, I needed an unbiased opinion.

I’m 24 and can count the amount of times we’ve ‘done it’ on one hand

Perhaps influenced by the various nude-positive Twitter communities I’m part of, where people are constantly posting their Only Fans accounts, I decided to share my naked photos on Reddit – always with my face covered. I deleted the first few within 10 minutes in a blind panic, but within seconds I’d received comments and followers. I couldn’t believe how positive they were. I re-uploaded them and received a hundred notifications at a time telling me how perfect I am. I had intended this to be a one-time thing, but I can’t stop. ‘You have the most perfect body I’ve ever seen.’‘I’m blown away.’‘You’re unreal.’Those are just the PG messages. The flattery is addictive. I kept posting and in three months gained nearly 3,000 followers. In the last month, it’s doubled. Of course, I receive raunchy messages that leave me queasy, of men telling me what they want to do to me, that they masturbate over me and requests for custom photos, but I never engage. I encourage ‘thoughtful conversations only’ in my bio and don’t consider this cheating. I never flirt. I still use Reddit to decide which photos to send to my boyfriend but it’s turned into a major source of validation. It’s been an awakening for me. Before, I never viewed myself as hot or sexy because I’m not curvy, but Reddit has helped me understand that little curves are beautiful too. I know that people like the way I look without seeing my face.

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I’ve always been told I’m pretty – and before the pandemic, I made a living off it as a promo girl at trade shows and events – but I’m forever haunted by comments from boys in school who compared my boy-ish frame to a brick wall. A combination of this and vaginismus meant I’ve rarely felt like a woman. Every boy I dated left me when they realised I couldn’t f*ck them. I tried everything to get my muscles to relax for sex, from alcohol to illegal drugs like MDMA, weed and prescription pills sourced over the dark web, but nothing worked. Now I can finally have sex and the person I love isn’t interested. It’s hard to shake that feeling of total worthlessness.

I had intended this to be a one-time thing, but I can’t stop

I haven’t worked as a promo girl since March 15, 2020 and all the compliments that used to fuel my confidence have vanished. I’m living back at my parents’ house finishing my university degree online, so this new ‘hobby’ is also a much-needed thrill. It’s empowering to feel desired and it’s an outlet for the sexual side I don’t get to express with my boyfriend. There have been times I’ve wanted to delete the entire account and I worry that it’s a sign of a complete lack of self-respect, but how can I when it alleviates my crippling self-doubt? Of course, I would be horrified if anyone I knew found out, I think about it everyday. But there is an unspoken agreement among the users of subreddits. To see NSFW (not safe for work) content you have to alter your account settings; it’s not your average Reddit account, so if you catch me on there, I’m catching you on there too. We’re both participating in this taboo and I think it’s just as embarrassing to be found out as a lurker.This is the one secret I have from my boyfriend. He once even joked that I probably have a secret Only Fans account, given the sheer volume of nudes I send to him. I could have come clean right then, but the words wouldn’t come out. None of the messages I get are a threat to our relationship and knowing this has helped me gain perspective on the overwhelming attention my boyfriend receives from his fame. I no longer feel insecure. I know that there is no person, no message, no comment that could ever stray me away from him and I now trust him when he tells me the same.If you’ve got a story that you think would work for The Secret Lives of Women, please email secretlives@elleuk.comLike this article? Sign up to our newsletter to get more articles like this delivered straight to your inbox.In need of more inspiration, thoughtful journalism and at-home beauty tips? Subscribe to ELLE’s print magazine today! SUBSCRIBE HERE

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FAMILY & MONEY

I’ve Got A “Designer Vagina” But My Boyfriend Doesn’t Know

Much of my early twenties are a haze but a one-night stand with some idiot called Jake has lived with me forever. As he traced his tongue down my stomach and twisted my knickers down I started to panic. Tipsy as I was, I didn’t have the coordination or reaction time to rearrange into a more ‘flattering’ position. Suddenly he was up close and personal with my vulva. Giggling, he said: “Do you want fries with that?” I died. It was true. I was deformed. Unlovable. Ugly. I can’t place the exact moment I started to become aware of my body. One minute I felt free and happy to frolic totally starkers and then… then there was shame. I guess it’s natural to start to feel self-conscious about your body as a teenager, but before I became sexually active, it was all about my size. My legs were too chunky, my boobs too small. My arms weren’t toned and my face was too round. I was so busy analysing what the world could see, I hadn’t even considered that my vulva might look different too.Despite my anxieties, as I grew into my teenage years, I flourished. Boys found me attractive and I embraced life as one of the ‘pretty girls’, with plenty of moochy coffee dates, dancefloor snogs and illicit fumbles. On the face of it, I had nothing to worry about – and for a long time I didn’t. Then I started having sex.My first love at 16 never mentioned how I looked – whether he noticed or not, I’ll never know. I guess he was hardly an anatomical expert either at that age. I’d never watched porn or seen many other vulvas so I didn’t even realise they were all different. What I did notice, however, was that occasionally, after intense sex, my inner lips (otherwise known as the labia minora), which already protruded from the outer lips (the labia majora), would bruise and swell. It was as if they had been inflated, like those party balloons that are twisted and tied into the shape of poodles. It was sore and uncomfortable. I was walking around with a heaviness between my legs and couldn’t have sex again until things had calmed down.

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That was my first inkling of trouble ‘downstairs’. Fast forward to the ‘burger and fries’ incident, past a late education in porn, an awakening to degrading blokey banter and the crushing realisation that not all vulvas are made equal and I had full blown body dysmorphia. I was too embarrassed to mention it to friends at the time (I was never good at vulnerability), plus there’s absolutely no way I’d have confided in relatives – we’re just not that sort of family.For years I did my research on the sly, then a platform called RealSelf appeared, a rabbit hole of all things plastic surgery-related. In this portal to perfection, reviews, community questions chats and cosmetic procedures are dissected and absorbed. The app became an obsession. I combed the site daily, trawling through labiaplasty ‘before and after’ pictures. I reckon I studied more vulvas in my year of research than most porn addicts manage in a lifetime. However, I never for a moment considered that this spectrum of flowers, all different shapes, sizes, colours and textures could all be beautiful.After more than 10 years of hiding my vulva, getting panic attacks when men tried to touch me intimately – or, God forbid, go down on me – I just couldn’t take it anymore. My surgery was never about having the perfect vulva, it was about allowing myself to live in sexual freedom.

I had full blown body dysmorphia

The first surgery appointment was liberating. I was taking steps to change and it felt fantastic. That said, just allowing a male to inspect my vulva – even in a professional capacity – was terrifying. He stretched my inner labia out like a butterfly (Jesus, I could have taken flight with those wings) and it was confirmed: ‘Yes, your labia minora are larger than average.’We discussed the options. He asked if I wanted to save any of the ‘lips’. My answer was a categorical ‘no’. Take them off, all of them. He acquiesced. However, he was reluctant to remove too much of the flesh surrounding my clit in case it inhibited my ability to orgasm. I’ve always climaxed easily so that was a no brainer for me. The only sticking point was the cost. At up to £4,000, it’s not cheap, but I’d squirrelled away a modest nest egg and figured that I’d wasted more over the years on overpriced cocktails, designer fripperies and unnecessary travel – none of which had made any lasting impact on my happiness.The surgery itself was a doddle. For some people, a labiaplasty might sound like a huge decision, but doubt never crossed my mind. I was on a mission. I booked a few days off work and took myself to the clinic. I was back home within 24 hours. I still didn’t confide in any friends because I didn’t want to explain myself. I didn’t want them thinking they could change my mind. Dosed up on meds, I hid myself away over the weekend, watching with naive curiosity and pride as my little cross-stitched labia began to heal.

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Obviously it took longer than that before I could even contemplate sex – up to six weeks, said the surgeon, gravely. I laughed: I’d not had sex in nearly a year at that stage, so what was an extra month or two? I can’t pretend that the aftermath wasn’t uncomfortable, but when you’ve craved something for so long you can ride out any pain. I was up and about within a week and my temporary social hiatus went unnoticed. It’s pretty easy to hide a secret when it’s in your pants.While my vulva doesn’t offend me now, undoing years of anxiety and body shame isn’t that easy. I’d imagined I would be parading the streets naked, high on cunnilingus and crotch confidence. The reality has been different. I’d forbidden any non-penetrative intimate contact for such a long time that I didn’t know where to start. I was single at the time of the surgery but am now in a relationship with a lovely guy who has zero idea what I’ve done. I still struggle to allow myself to be ‘seen’. I tense up when he tries to go down on me (mercifully, this isn’t often – I think he’s got the hint) and I’m reluctant to roam pants off. Baby steps, I’m working on it.

I still didn’t confide in any friends because I didn’t want to explain myself

But the world moves quickly. Before I had the surgery, a couple of years ago, the body positive movement had yet to really find its voice. Today, explicit conversations are two a penny. Innie…outie…those terms used to be how we’d describe belly buttons, right? Not anymore. A TikTok video in which @gabygabss, aka former Playboy Bunny Gabriella Scaringe, gives the lowdown on her ‘outie’ labia has recently gone viral, racking up over seven million plays. ‘My inner parts protrude a little more than my outward parts,’ Gabriella says. ‘They’re called the Arby’s sandwich or the burger, but every panini is beautiful! And I’ve only ever had compliments on my lil Arby’s roast beef.’ Her searing candour has resonated with thousands of women worldwide. I’m stunned that anyone could have been so brave. The fact that so many women are publicly engaging in an issue that has traumatised me for my entire life is powerful, and I’m proud – from a distance – of the sisterhood for owning the innie/outie debate. But this revolution doesn’t mean I am somehow bound to ‘fess up’.Does this make me a traitor to the feminist cause? I don’t think so. Society is starting to embrace both natural beauty and modification simultaneously, as an individual’s right to choose. I made a choice that worked for me and I don’t regret it.Call it pride or vanity – or just plain privacy – I see no upside in revealing what I’ve done to the wider world. The new shape of my vulva is not worth explaining to any men in my life and I’m working through my intimacy issues at my own pace. This secret is staying firmly under wraps, preferably silky ones by Agent Provocateur.If you’ve got a story that you think would work for The Secret Lives of Women, please email secretlives@elleuk.comLike this article? Sign up to our newsletter to get more articles like this delivered straight to your inbox.In need of more inspiration, thoughtful journalism and at-home beauty tips? Subscribe to ELLE’s print magazine today! SUBSCRIBE HERE

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FAMILY & MONEY

Lockdown Has Amped Up My Drinking Into A Full Blown Addiction – Just Like My Mother’s

*Warning – some of the topics discussed in this first person account relating to alcohol dependance may feel triggering*
My worst fear in life has always been ending up like my mum. Sure, plenty of women feel the same, but it’s not premature greying I’ve been worried about, it’s inheriting her alcohol addiction – an addiction that has cut fractures so deep in my family, I don’t think they can ever be bridged.
Today, the nightmare has been realised. I’m in my late twenties, with my very own addiction. I’m hiding bottles of red wine in my clothes basket, topping up my coffee with vodka, constantly chewing mints so my housemates don’t smell the stench of alcohol on my breath. I know which corner shop owners won’t make a comment when I buy yet another bottle or two at 10am on a Tuesday. I know exactly how much to drink to turn off my racing thoughts and gnawing anxieties, without becoming comatose; the amount that keeps me functioning on the outside, answering the right questions on a work Zoom call, whilst comfortably numb inside. I know that red wine is better than white because you don’t have to refrigerate it, and what time to creep out of my room with all the empty bottles so no one will see me.
I know all this and I hate myself for it because the more I do it, the more I am like my mum, going through the same motions that destroyed mine and my brother’s childhoods. Perhaps worst of all, it was a man leaving me that sparked it, just like for my mum – another of her weaknesses I’d promised myself never to fall victim to.
My mum’s drinking started when I was 11-years-old, after my dad left us. My memories of that time are a blur: a week or two of explosive arguments eavesdropped through the stair banisters, my dad’s suitcase packed up by the door, a brisk kiss on the forehead and a vague promise of, ‘See you soon’. He left us for another woman – someone from his work I later found out, younger, prettier, a total cliché – and quickly set up a new life with her.

Zoya KaleevaGetty Images

It’s like my mum stopped being my mum after that, withdrawing into a grey, impenetrable shell that neither me nor my brother could break through. I associate those early days of her drinking with her closed bedroom door, some trashy TV show blaring, her curtains drawn. It was still a secret at that point, clinking bottles late at night and slurs that she covered up with coughs or changes in subject. I quickly learnt how to look for the signs that it was ‘mummy’s bad day’, scurrying out of her way before the drink and the wrong question set her off. Thinking about it now, it’s almost like I’ve copied her, action by action.
For years we lived in that terrifying stasis – I was never quite sure which mum I would get picking me up from school or a friend’s house, anxiety bubbling up like acid as the home time bell drew near. I hated anyone knowing about her, like she and her habit were a hot, shameful secret to bury. Even as pre-teen, I knew that there was a huge taboo surrounding addiction.

I quickly learnt how to look for the signs that it was ‘mummy’s bad day’

The worst thing about my mum’s drinking is that, like all addicts, she refused to believe that she had an issue. As a functioning alcoholic, she’d developed this sick ability to go through the motions of life, even half a bottle, or more, down. I’m sure the people she worked for knew, they would’ve been stupid to have missed the signs, but as a self-employed cleaner, she spent most of her work days alone with the radio and a flask of something. As long as she didn’t nick anything and kept the place spotless, who was going to complain?
By age 12 I was outwardly confronting her about the stash of vodka bottles hidden in her wardrobe, demanding to smell her breath, and refusing to get in the car if she dared to grab her keys. My brother and I were regular bus pass holders from the very start. I’m not sure how many desperate pleas I made for her to stop. Tearful ones, angry ones, calm ones; I remember writing her a letter one Christmas, begging Santa to bring back my old mum, knowing that she would be the one reading it. Even though she made promises over and over to change – to me, my brother, her own parents, who were the only adults I trusted – she never did. And my dad didn’t to keep us involved in his new life as he’d promised.
My own relationship with alcohol started when I was 21 and a third year student in Bristol, far from the Newcastle suburb that I had grown up in and far from my mum who I had cut off all contact with, aged 16. I was far enough away from the very few people who knew the truth – my grandparents who took us in and my two best friends. Miles from the very worst memories of my mum, in hospital after a car accident where she had been black-out drunk and drifting into oncoming traffic. Far from her constant phone calls promising to change once we finally left and from the police who had to physically carry her off my grandparents doorstep. My first drink was a small glass of prosecco at my grad ball. I was surrounded by new people who didn’t know the old me or my sorry story. It was a drink not heavy with all the associations and accusations that I know I would get back home. My brother is still teetotal today.

Zoya KaleevaGetty Images

From that moment on, moving from Bristol to London for a shiny, exciting new life in marketing, alcohol became my friend rather than enemy. Though I always treated it with a wary respect. One small glass of wine, but only with dinner. A toast for a friend’s engagement party or new promotion. After work cocktails, but always with friends.
That was late 2019 me; happy, healthy, earning good money and in a long-term relationship with a man I loved. But at the start of 2020, he left me for another woman, and it was my turn to be heartbroken.
I moved out of our flat and into a house share. It was here my drinking shifted, becoming an emotional crutch and DIY therapy. It began first with friends, in the healthy way that all newly single or heartbroken women drown their sorrows; one or two glasses of chardonnay over pizza or on a girls’ night out. But those glasses never stopped, they multiplied. Soon it was a bottle at least each night, sometimes two. Instead of stopping at the after-work drinks, I would drop into my local corner shop to stock up on the way home. At the time, I had a busy mix of work, social engagements and the gym to distract myself from my problem. Then lockdown happened and I was cut off from the one thing I had to justify my drinking: other people.

I was constantly thinking about the next drink

It was a month or two into lockdown that I realised I have a problem. Stuck at home, without the usual distractions, I was constantly thinking about the next drink, when I could sneak one or how I could justify another trip to the Off Licence. Originally, all I wanted was to dull the pain of a break up, now I feel like I can’t sleep without a drink; my thoughts are too loud. I’m sure my housemates have realised what’s going on, they’re not stupid. Like me aged 11, they’ve pieced together the clues and I know they’re worried about me. Twisted as it is, it’s often been easy to blow them off – everyone it seems has an alcohol problem in lockdown to joke about.
I do want help. I know that I need it and where to find it. Thanks to my mum’s situation, I know how difficult it is to do alone, but I’m scared to open up to anyone, especially my family, my little brother. I feel like I’ve failed them by following in my mum’s footsteps.
Most of all, I’m scared to admit to myself that I’m more like my mum than I ever thought I could be. Even though we rekindled our relationship a few years ago after she got herself sober, opening up to her would be too painful. These are old wounds that haven’t quite healed yet.
For help and support for alcohol dependance visit drinkaware. You can call their helpline on 0300 123 1110 (weekdays 9am–2pm, weekends 11am–4pm). Or use their online chat service 9am – 2pm (UK time) from Monday to Friday.
If you’ve got a story that you think would work for The Secret Lives of Women, please email secretlives@elleuk.com
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‘I Sold Sex To Fund My Shopping Habit’

My Stealing Addiction And The Illusion Of Control

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FAMILY & MONEY

NBA to resume play March 10 after All-Star break

The NBA schedule will resume on March 10 after the All-Star break, one day earlier than originally planned, Tim Reynolds of The Associated Press tweets.
Games on that date will likely includes teams that have few or no All-Stars, giving the clubs with more All-Star players an extra day or two to prepare for the second half of the season, according to Adrian Wojnarowski of ESPN. As previously reported, all players must return to their home markets two days prior to their team’s first post-All-Star break contest (Twitter links).
The league is trying to squeeze in the remainder of the regular season games prior to the postseason, which is slated to begin on May 18 with the new Play-in Tournament. Resuming play the Wednesday after the All-Star break could help the league reach that goal. The Spurs-Pistons postponement this Tuesday is the 24th this season due to COVID-19, as we noted earlier today.
Earlier this month, the NBA and Players Association reached an agreement to hold an All-Star Game in Atlanta on March 7. The usual skills competitions will also be held but they will occur on the same day as the game. The 3-point event and Skills Challenge will be held prior to the game and the dunk contest will take place at halftime, Shams Charania of The Athletic tweets. […]

FAMILY & MONEY

Lakers will reportedly move slowly in bringing Anthony Davis back

February 15, 2021

The Los Angeles Lakers issued an initial timetable on the injury to star center Anthony Davis, but it sounds like the organization is prepared to live without him for a while.
The Lakers announced Monday that Davis will be evaluated in 2-3 weeks due to a calf strain. This should not be viewed as a solid return date, however.
A Lakers source told ESPN’s Dave McMenamin that the Lakers are prepared to be very cautious and conservative in bringing Davis back, taking a more long-term view of his health.

Asked a team source how the Lakers are processing the Anthony Davis news: “Long haul. Long season. Take as long as he needs.”
— Dave McMenamin (@mcten) February 15, 2021

The Lakers want to win another championship. They’ll need Davis healthy to do that. At 21-7, missing the playoffs isn’t a concern for them. While they’d certainly like to be as well-positioned as possible in terms of seeding, Davis’ health is more important.
The injury didn’t look great live, so the fact that it’s not extremely severe is good news. Davis might be out a while, but there’s no reason the Lakers shouldn’t have him back for the playoffs, especially if they’re planning to be this cautious. […]