One man's encounter with Pierce... via Ball Don't Lie
So I'm heading back to my room and I see Paul Pierce playing craps. Obviously, he wasn't part of the contingency romancing Rasheed Wallace to the Celtics on Thursday or most likely on Friday. I'm in a semi-Red Bull and Vodka daze, but not enough that I don't have my bearings [...]
I watch him play craps for a few minutes and when a lull in the action occurs, I say, 'I thought you were supposed to be wooing 'Sheed.' The Truth didn't take too kindly to my statement. He then says, 'Oh man, can't I get any privacy! Shouldn’t you be looking for girls.' I then tell him I'm married and Pierce then says to me, 'Then why are you in Vegas?' My response is I'm here on business working with Doyle Brunson for the WSOP Main Event. He loses his roll of the dice and slams his hand down on the craps table as hard as he can. I'm not sure if I should feel guilty, not give a crap, or run as fast as I can.
I decide to stay for another minute. He mutters some more stuff under his breath and then offers to buy shots for me since I'm not chasing women. I politely decline and head back up to my room ...
