I've been known to have a few problems stuttering over my life. One day I was in the dressing room getting ready to play the Lakers in the championship. I asked our trainer, Buddy LeRoux, to work on my finger, which I had jammed earlier in the series. 'Hey, Buddy,' I said, 'do you think you could fuh-fuh-fuh, fi-fi-fix my fuh-fuh-finger?' Red, who was standing nearby, turns around, takes a cigar out of his mouth and says 'whattsa matter, Frankie, you a little nervous today?' Red then put the cigar back between his grinning teeth, as he waited to see if I could muster up a response.
Fuck you, Red.
How'd that come out?
The entire locker room broke up.
--Frank Ramsey
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