He walks as if his feet hurt.
He runs as if he just ate an overstuffed burrito after its expiration date.
He wraps his legs in what look like used bandages, and wears low-top black basketball shoes over what might be orthopedic socks.
His complaints mimic those of an infant.
He argues with anyone in the stands who dares look at him.
When he jumps, his thick body barely leaves the floor.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d think the Timberwolves lost on Thursday night in the Western Conference finals to a whiny old man.
The Wolves know better.