Klay Thompson knows better than anyone that, no matter the circumstances, you need to shoot your shot. But on Wednesday night, following the Golden State Warriors’ 127-121 victory over the Toronto Raptors, he elected for beer over shots.
Correct, there is real footage of Thompson sipping “real” beer during a real interview after a real game that is real:
Some will call this unprofessional. Party poopers will think downing a cold or tepid or grossly warm brew on camera, in plain sight of impressionable, innocent youths allowed to watch TV and surf Twitter after 10 p.m. ET on a school night, is downright sleazy. A select few of you will point out that real bulldog owners chug vodka lemonades and nothing else all day every day.
Really, though, this situation is akin to any of us normal folk unwinding with an adult beverage after a tough day at the office, in the classroom, on the New Orleans Pelicans beat, etc.
Thompson wrapped Wednesday night’s tilt shooting 4-of-15 from the floor, including 3-of-11 on 3-pointers. And he’s now spent the last 72 hours or so as the latest primary subject of a nonexistent trade rumor.
That’s a bad stretch for anyone. And Thompson’s job isn’t like others. He doesn’t punch a clock; he keeps odd hours. The lines between when it’s okay to drink and when it’s not become blurred when you spend most of your life under a microscope. Plus, it’s not like he was shotgunning a can of Natty Ice. He worked the Coors Light plug into the natural ebb and flow of the interview. It was almost like he was drinking Fiji or Gatorade.
If there’s one thing we must take exception to, it’s his branding. Like, couldn’t he have subtly pimped a Bay Area microbrew? You know, slow-sipped some Kalifornia Kölsch, label out? Sloshed down a Racer 5 with a smile? Taken a deliberate Swig of Sneak Attack?
No, I haven’t the faintest idea whether any of those are worth drinking, let alone promoting. In fact, the Google search I did around 50 seconds ago comprises the extent of my knowledge about Bay Area micro-brews. But I do know that, failing some covert endorsement with Coors Light, Thompson could have been a bit more creative.
At least now, perhaps, he’ll know to change things up next time he’s locker-room drinking—or at the very least save us from discovering his plainness with a well-placed beer cozy.