Updated throughout the day with quick takes from staff.
Perhaps Washington's day was done and he wanted to run. Maybe he got bad news and wanted to kick them blues. It could have been, simply, that his thing was gone and he wanted to ride on.
Of course, the notion did just cross my mind that there could have been trouble ahead or trouble behind, like perhaps train hundred and two was on the wrong track and headed for…him.
It could be the case that he already had satin shoes, plastic boots and a speed-freak jive and heard someone knocking on his window.
Maybe he was in some serious trouble. Did he, and his baby, go uptown? Did the police come in and knock him down? Did anyone think for a minute that his baby, dressed in red, could have a shot-gun and wanted to kill him dead?
Last one, I promise. Might it be that one morning, presumably while making the rounds, he took a shot then shot his woman down, went right home and went to bed, then stuck that lovin' 44 beneath his head? I'd assume if that is what happened, the next morning he grabbed his gun, took another shot and away he…run. I'd also assume it was good run, but rather slow before they overtook him in…let's say…Juarez, Mexico?
Or it was a one-time transgression and, as Washington told SI.com, "any attempt to try to explain it is going to sound like excuses. There is no right way to explain something wrong, and I did wrong. Was it tension? Maybe. Anxiety?''
Anxiety? I would have bet the speed-freak jive.
This post originally appeared on the Sporting Blog. For more, see The Sporting Blog Archives.
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