NBA Mascots Help The Mailman Find Himself

I really wish someone could explain why Karl Malone got tapped for this promotional spot. Actually, scratch that; I want to plant a big, sloppy kiss on the face of whatever NBA producer said “we really need to have the Mailman getting pants-ed, hanging out in a lo-fi Busy Berkeley wonderland, watching mascots hurt their man-bits and bare their rears.” ↵

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↵I mean really, what player of that era makes less sense in this context than the proud, stoic, countrified Malone? David Robinson was the universal good sport; Hakeem, you would’ve felt like he’d been duped; Jordan would’ve started wailing on his fine, furry friends. I’ve got to say, this was a inspired behind-the-lines choice -- and call me crazy, but Karl appears to be enjoying himself a little, making me wonder if this isn’t a form of self-discovery. Like the psychotherapy where they lay out a bunch of stuffed animals and tell you to rescontruct the world as you see it. So really, folks, this isn’t exploitation, masterful casting, or outright sillness. It’s a window into a man’s soul that happens to make a goofy commercial. The NBA is so deep sometimes.↵