Glen “Big Baby” Davis: 6’9″ (in heels) and 289 pounds (at least) of endomorphic adequacy. Draws charges, can’t defend the rim, uses his enormous posterior to muscle for rebounding position on the offensive glass, takes a bunch of bad shots, uses way too many of his team’s possessions when he’s on the floor. He’s at best a ninth man yet currently serves as Orlando’s seventh man while getting paid like a sixth man (4 years at $6.5m per, all of it guaranteed) and emoting like Orson Welles in Carol Reed’s The Third Man. Every week from now until the end of the NBA season, we’re going to tell you a story about him.
Why? Well, we have reason to suspect that he’s our double, our secret sharer. In the course of providing 20 or so minutes of uninspired play for the Orlando Magic, the Big Baby also gives us a glimpse into those parts of our personalities that remain underdeveloped, dormant, invisible to the world. Whenever he puts up an errant 15-footer, we learn something new and beautiful about ourselves.