Wayne Ellington was drafted late in the first round by the Timberwolves — along with every other player in the NBA Draft — but most will remember his historic night for the time they met his girlfriend. She goes to Drexel and wanted him to stay local, but he's blessed to be going to Minnesota. Tell that to Ricky Rubio.

Joe Morgan decides to tell a story on Sunday Night Baseball. (Stop me if you've heard this before. OK, I'll continue anyway.) It was an utterly harmless story, until it proved to be an "utter crock." (Stop me if you've heard this before. OK, I'll stop.)

Take it away, Dash: "Let's say you love the Chicago Bears. (Relax....it's just an example.) And let's say you don't mind having a few dozen tattoos on your body. That doesn't logically follow that you need 92 Bears autographs permanently inked in your skin."

Simona Halep decides to get a breast reduction — but that was before Alena Schurkova, a professional volleyball player with 32Es, weighed in. "If she does this it sends out the message that girls with big boobs can't play sports and that is just wrong," Schurkova said. Halep hasn't yet reconsidered.

Fact: Chris Forcier is leaving UCLA. Fact: He needs a better press team than his family. Fact: Writing "fact" lots of times in a press release does not strengthen your argument.

Tucker Max and an unnamed ESPN columnist walk into a bar... no, there's no punch line.

Artie Lange was who we thought he was! A much more thoughtful, rational expression of the same sentiment, at least.

"YouTube is filled with grainy cellphone videos of drunken bleacher brawls, but few capture the drama, action, suspense, and heartbreaking childhood trauma of this donnybrook from the Yankees-Marlins series. It's like the Citizen Kane of stadium fan fight clips." Getcher popcorn ready.

What do you do when you win the Stanley Cup and your team's owner is Mario Lemieux? You go to Sewickley and swim with the Cup, natch.

You already know what happened, but it's worth another watch, if only to make Lucky Pierre a permanent phrase in the cultural zeitgeist.

It is nothing less than the distilled essence of the Draft. There's Grandma, just proud as she can be. There's Wayne, dressed to the nines, sipping on some iced tea. There's some champagne. There's a Chinese-character tattoo. And there is the woman herself, Amanda, Our Lady of Pneumatics. Family. The accoutrements of wealth. Young love. The breast of the new world flowering before our sailor's eyes, as Fitzgerald sort of wrote.

Years from now, when the aliens are sifting through our cultural detritus, they will ask us about this bizarre annual ceremony known as the NBA Draft and what it all meant. And, my friends, we will show them this photo. And they will understand.

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