Till Twitter Do Us Part

On a late-summer afternoonin 2016, Joel Embiid is throwing a fitand Elton Brand is catching it.

- Kevin Arnovitz

For weeks, Embiid has been dominating pickup games at the Sixers’ old practice facility at the Philadelphia College of Osteopathic Medicine. After losing the first two seasons of his career to a broken bone in his right foot, he’s spent months refining the exquisite footwork that would, in short order, propel him to almost instant stardom. But for now, in this gym, the chore of defending Embiid down low is the burden of none other than Brand—a 37-year-old who’s just played out a veterans minimum contract for what will ultimately become the last season of his 17-year career.

On certain days, when NBA big-man prospects and journey men drift through PCOM to participate in workouts, Brand is relieved of this Sisyphean duty, as indicated on a sheet posted on the wall. But on this day, a certain highly touted collegiate center who was scheduled to face the 22-year-old Embiid is a late scratch—so Brand finds his name back on the wall. And Embiid, who’d been licking his chops at the chance to school a contemporary, is incensed.

“This is bulls--t!” Embiid yells, stomping across the hardwood.

And then, in case the point wasn’t yet clear, he hurls the ball across the gym.

“The night before, I’d been watching Shaq’s highlights, and I wanted the competition,” Embiid says today. “I needed someone to go back at me.”