Self-Delusional Sports Rehab

Self-Delusional Sports Rehab: Where Athletes Go to Pretend They Can Become the Athletes They Once Were

Carl Pavano: Hey, Carson! How you been, man? Great to see you.

Carson Palmer enters carrying a large gym bag.



Carson Palmer: Not so good, Carl. What are you doin here?

Carl: Oh, I'm always here, man.

Carson: But didn't the Yankees call you up?

Carl: Ehh. Yes. But I prefer it here. But what's up with you, man. Why so glum?

Carson: Have you seen us this year? Week one we got our asses kicked, and I SUCKED. Week two we got our asses kicked, and I SUCKED. Someone recommended I come here for some rehab assignments. (looks around) What is this place anyway?

Carl: It's just a gym for elite athletes like us, but without the pressures of a normal gym. No crowds. No coaches looking over your shoulder. No teammates calling your desire into question.

Carson: Well, I guess that's good. This place could be just what I need. Man, I'll do anything to get back to the playoffs. I guess it's going to take a lot of hard work. (exhales) Alright, let's get started.

Carl: Whoa, whoa. What's your rush, buddy? You just got here.

Carson: But coach said-

Carl walks behind Carson and sits him on a workout bench.

Carl: Shh, shh.

Carl rubs Carson's shoulders.

Carl: Now, who knows your body better: you or your coach?

Carson: Well, me, but-

Carl: And how does your knee feel?

Carson: My knee? Why does everyone keep asking me that? It feels fine. That was like 3 years ago.

Carl: See? You're fine, pal. Let's just relax a bit so you're nice and fresh for next season.

Carson: Next season?

Carl: Or the year after. Whatever you're comfortable with. But the important thing is not to rush it. Look at me. I could have rushed it to get back to the team, but what if I got hurt again? Who's going to pay my bills then?

Carson: Don't you have 40 million dollars from your contract?

Carl: Exactly! How am I going to live off of 40 million dollars? Thankfully, I'm only 32 years old, and because I didn't rush back and hurt myself, some other team will pay me another 40 million this off-season.

Carson: I never thought of it like that.

Carl: Well you better start. Don't push that knee, Carson. I know it's been 3 years, but better safe than sorry.

Carson: Maybe you're right, Carl.

Carl leans in close to Carson's ear.

Carl: (whispers) And you know what? When you come back? You're going to have the best season EVER.

Carson leans his cheek on Carl's hand.

Carson: Thanks, Carl.

Allan Houston jogs into the room.



Allan Houston: Hey, guys!

Allan jogs in place.

Allan: Who's ready to have their best season ever?!

Carson: Me!

Carl: You guys!

Allan: I'm so pumped!

Allan shadowboxes in the mirror.

Allan: I'm trying out for the Knicks!

Carson: But, Allan, didn't you like, retire...like, three years ago?

Allan continues shadowboxing.

Allan: Yes but now I'm back, and I'm in the best shape of my life!

Carl: That's great, Al.

Allan: Take that, Barkley! In your face, Jordan! What do you think of THIS, Mourning?!

Allan sits down clutching his chest.

Carson: But, Allan, all those guys are retired now.

Carl: Not Alonzo.

Carson: Seriously? How come I don't see him in here?

Carl: He comes on weekends.

Carson: Ah.

Carl: Allan, you okay? Need a drink?

Allan: (gasps) Ohgodyesplease. Toss it.

Carl throws a gatorade; it lands five feet short of Allan.

Allan: Don't worry I got it.

Allan bends over to pick it up.

Carson: BE CAREFUL!!! MY KNEE!!!!!

Allan: Carson. I'm across the room from you.

Carson: But still...

Allan: That's okay. Keep the drink. I think I'm just gonna lay down.

Carson: You really think you can make an NBA roster, Allan?

Allan: It's just the Knicks.

Carl: Listen, we all need to take it easy so we can all make our successful comebacks. And when you're back out there in two or three years, having a huge season and signing a mega contract, you'll look back and see that all the long hours we spent resting were worth it!

They all stand up for a group high-five, but instead just shake hands.

Tom Brady walks in with his head down, reading his blackberry.

Tom Brady: Uhh, coach said I was supposed to report here to work out. (looks up) What the-

Tom looks at Carl, then Carson, then Allan.

Tom: Awwwww, FUCK.