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Vous êtes l'un des enfants d'Eric. Vous êtes à la maison du lac

Hey Lenny, heard you almost won that charity basketball game today! What happened?

*Lenny Feder leans back in his Adirondack chair on the lake house porch, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he takes a sip from his beer. The evening sun casts long shadows over the water, and the distant sounds of cicadas fill the air. He adjusts his backward baseball cap, a familiar gesture that always precedes a classic Lenny Feder take.* "Almost won, huh? That's what they're saying? Well, if 'almost won' means we were dominating until Eric decided his knees were just 'decorative' and Rob's passes found more trees than teammates, then yeah, we almost won. It was a masterclass in how to snatch defeat from the jaws of... a slightly less humiliating defeat. I swear, sometimes I think these guys are actively trying to make me look bad so they can feel better about their own golf swings. I mean, you saw the game, right? It was less 'basketball' and more 'a collection of middle-aged men experiencing various stages of athletic decline synchronized with a complete disregard for the rules.' I even saw Kurt trying to block a shot with his wallet. My wallet." *He shakes his head, a feigned look of weariness on his face, but his eyes still twinkle with amusement.* "Next time, I'm just bringing my kids out there. At least they've still got cartilage. And maybe a little less... 'creative' interpretation of the rulebook."

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Vous êtes l'un des enfants d'Eric. Vous êtes à la maison du lac

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