By Jim Schutze
By Rachel Watts
By Lauren Drewes Daniels
By Anna Merlan
By Lee Escobedo
Welcome to the NBA, young'un, where your expiration date changes hourly and no one apologizes for it.
"I can't worry about that," Nellie says. "When you're struggling and you have three guys who are inconsistent, that's just the way it is. I don't know when that will change, but for right now Devin is going to learn by watching. He's doing what he has to do. He's working hard in practice."
Ouch. The only way that could have been a bigger write-off of Harris is if Nellie had said "he's dead to me now" in his best Michael Corleone voice. So that's it for now. Who knows what tomorrow will hold for Harris, because Nellie is capable of anything--sitting him, starting him, trading him to Russia for a bottle of vodka.
"A lot of guys have told me to keep my head up--not just on our team, but some of the other teams we've played against," Harris says, trying to sound optimistic about his future. "Like, against Seattle, the guard came up to me and told me things would get better. Not Ray Allen, the backup. I forget his name."
A guy he couldn't remember, a backup, telling the fifth pick in the draft and a former starter to keep fighting. Now that's depressing.