Sweet mother of Willie Nelson. Well this explains a lot. When Paul Pierce got let go from ESPN for committing the unpardonable sin of throwing a funner party than 90% of us have ever been to:
Most of us just naturally assumed he'd end up becoming our coolest fellow employee:
Because he'd fit right in and maybe host an event or two for his coworkers. But now we understand he had an even more noble calling.
Like Pop Fisher of the NY Knights, after his life in sports was finished, The Truth wanted to be a farmer. But not just any farmer. He wanted to grow the Sticky Green Nasty. The Devil's Spinach. Samwise Ganjah. The miracle plant that brings people together, treats glaucoma, and has made outdoor concert season worth living since the 1960s.
And of course being Paul Pierce, he's not going to halfass his new life as an agronomist. He's going to grow the green the way he wore the Green for 15 seasons: Like a first ballot Hall of Famer. So while other cannabis growers might be content with a little garden, he's got himself a goddamned Christmas tree lot of the Electric Lettuce. With enough high quality, ready-for-harvesting buds to bring tears to Seth Rogan's eyes.
I can't say for sure what is the biggest cultural and societal change over the course of my lifetime, but this one is right up there. When I was a kid, Bill Lee got fined by MLB Commissioner Bowie Kuhn for saying he smoked pot. (He later denied saying he smoked it. He said he "used" it. By sprinkling it on his pancakes. The fine was for 500 bucks and a few years ago I interviewed him and got him to confirm that he did, in fact, send the league a check for $512.36, "just to mess with their accountants.") And now we live in a world where a beloved icon who sold a million No. 34 jerseys to a million kids, is free to openly farm the same controlled substance that used to get guys fined for even talking about it. As it should be.
Player. Champion. One time TV personality. Professional botanist. MOGUL. Tap in, indeed.