It would be malpractice to make you read many words before showing dunk:
That's Anthony Edwards, in the third quarter of the Wolves' win over the Jazz on Monday night, risking life and limb—both his and his opponent's—for a feat of athleticism worth engraving in basketball history. Because this is Edwards, this isn't even the first such instance this month. Last time, it was a game-saving block on the Pacers' Aaron Nesmith that had Edwards bashing his own head against the backboard. This time around, it was a transition dunk on, over, and through poor John Collins, and it's a dunk of the century, a vision of fearless ultra-violence. Though if you're the type to wade into dunk-versus-throw semantics, here's your proof:
The resulting damages were extensive. For Collins: a blocking foul, plus a head contusion, according to Shams Charania. For Edwards: a dislocated finger, from slamming into Collins's cheekbone (not, as I'd poetically imagined, from the ball striking his own off-hand on the way down). The dunk ended Collins's night, as he had to get evaluated for a concussion, but it only kickstarted the evening for Edwards. The Wolves guard ran into the locker room, as head coach Chris Finch had called a timeout to let him get his digit popped back in, then made the free throw upon his return. With a taped finger, he'd go on to score 25 of his 32 points in the second half as the Wolves won, 114-104.
When deciding whether to contest an imminently leaping Edwards, it's worth taking into account that he is indestructible, and you are not. Or, as Edwards put it upon reviewing his own work: Ouughhheaaah.
Hard to disagree with that.
