NBA Point Guards aren't usually known as thugs. Their small size and position as team coordinator gives them every reason to not be. The Point Guard in my dream was an exception. The dream started with him as a rookie, learning the pro game, pro coaches, how it all worked. In one game, the other team's point guard was running all over him. He was faster, smarter, and once my man was on his heels, was giving him a real whipping. During a time out, the coach suggests that he had better give the guy an elbow, maybe stomp on his foot once or twice to slow him up. He had never played that way, and when he did it, was surprised by how well it worked. As the games and years went on, he did it more and more, sometimes almost bringing bigger men to tears. His reputation grew, and he played his career as a dirty player.
When he retires, he goes on to be an announcer. His life is a series of hotels, broadcasts, lounges, and bus rides. It goes on like this until his belly hangs over his pants, his suits don't fit right, and his reputation is all you would recognize of him.
One night, while walking to the hotel from a bar, he is met on the street by a man of slight build. The man takes him as a target and pulls a gun from his jacket pocket just enough to show. "Give me yer wallet."
"Ok, ok," says my hero, thinking of how much it is going to suck, having to replace all the cards, the driver's license, and photos of his kids.
That's when the crook recognizes the man. "You're that sonofabitch." Our man groans a little inside. "We're going to take a walk, visit your ATM, you bastard."
With the mugger behind him, our man walks down the lonely street, a bank sign lit about two blocks ahead. Along the way the man berates him for being such a dick. They got to the ATM, and our hero sees his chance. He elbows the guy right in the nose. Just like old times. The heavy gun falls from the man's pocket, and after a few more punches, the crook is down and our hero has the gun on him.
A police car that had turned onto the street sees most of this and pulls up. Our man explains he has just subdued a mugger, but the mugger's plaintive cries for mercy, and insistence that it was he that had just been mugged gains the officer's sympathy. Soon, our man is in handcuffs and is being driven to the police station. The mugger is last seen being attended to by paramedics. Our man can't believe it is all happening. He'll be all over the news, probably lose his job, all for being a thug.