Ghostin' These Bitches: The Return of Len Bias
Posted: Thu Jun 27, 2019 3:00 pm
GHOSTIN' THESE BITCHES: THE RETURN OF LEN BIAS
Almost as soon as he arrives at his Quality Inn hotel in downtown Salt Lake City, Len Bias' limousine is immediately surrounded by members of the media, each of them eager to find out how the hell he's still alive after his unfortunate cocaine overdose in 1986. Once a prized prospect of the Boston Celtics, Len Bias allegedly died in 1986—or at least that's what the government wants you to believe. Stepping out of his limo, Len Bias seems unfazed by the onslaught of reporters—and why shouldn't he? It's not like this is his first rodeo. With his agent and security staff by his side, Bias has no option but to push his way through the crowd, which grows increasingly larger by the minute. Before he can reach the doors of the hotel, one last reporter jumps in front of him and immediately thrusts his microphone into Len's face.
"Len, the world wants to know: How did you do it? How did you come back from the dead?" he asks.
Taking a moment to collect himself, Len Bias simply responds: "Area 51."
Back in 1985, Len Bias was considered one of the top prospects of the upcoming draft. Hand-picked by Red Auerbach himself, Len Bias was a "no-brainer" choice for the Boston Celtics, who traded Gerald Henderson and cash to move up in the draft to select him with the 2nd overall pick. The Celtics, who lost to the Los Angeles Lakers in game 6 of the 1985 NBA Finals, were hopeful that Bias would provide them with the depth needed to overcome their famed rivals. But unfortunately for the Celtics, Len Bias had other plans: Upon discovering that he was drafted by Boston, he was so distraught that he decided he'd rather die than play for Boston. Two days after being drafted, Len decided to go out with a bang by overdosing on cocaine—sending yet another message to all the haters that he still can't be stopped. Following the subsequent mourning and interment at Cole Field House, Len Bias' corpse would rot six feet beneath the soil for several years—until the Utah Jazz dug him up in the middle of the night.
"We were hellbent on landing a star—what can I say, we were desparate," an anonymous source later recalled.
Upon digging up his putrefied corpse, the Utah Jazz called upon the United States government for assistance. In a deal that sent "cash considerations" to the U.S. government in exchange for having Len Bias' body cryogenically frozen and later resurrected, the Jazz couldn't wait to capitalize on their brand new prize—all they had to do was sit on their hands and bide their time. However, Utah couldn't help but be doubtful as no human had ever been successfully resurrected, and they had invested a lot of money into this venture. Nevertheless, the government reassured them: "We can rebuild him. We have the technology."
In 1990, the United States government revealed to the owners of the Utah Jazz that Bias' corpse had been cryogenically stored at Area 51—an area of much interest for many conspiracy theorists—and they were just waiting to discover the technology necessary to resurrect him. After consulting George A. Romero, director of acclaimed zombie films such as Night of the Living Dead, the government made great strides toward acquiring the knowledge they needed—but they knew it was going to be a long, tedious process before they could turn Len Bias' bug-infested, lifeless corpse into a future PBSL superstar. Following a major discovery in 2026, however, the U.S. government informed the Jazz that they had finally discovered a way to resurrect Len Bias—but it would take time before they could turn him into a superstar.
The owners of the Utah Jazz, who were equally as nervous as they were excited, couldn't help but wonder: How would he come out? Would he still be the same as he was in 1985? Would he be better worse? And what would the reaction from the league be? There were just so many questions and absolutely no answers.
On January 1st, 2027, Len Bias was officially resurrected by the United States government in a tightly-sealed chamber in Area 51. As he opened his eyes and rose to his feet, Len displayed an expressionless look upon his face. As doctors snapped their fingers in front of his eyes, Bias blinked and slowly began to awake. He began rubbing his face, almost as if he had just woken up from a very long nap. Government officialls quickly rushed to the phone to alert the Utah Jazz that Len Bias was not only breathing, but standing and moving as well. Almost immediately, the owners were ushered into the high-security complex to see the results of the operation. It was, by all means, a huge success.
"We were so happy to hear the news," an anonymous former Jazz official stated. "We couldn't wait to put him to work. We were just so anxious to craft him into a future monster. We had no clue what we were getting ourselves into, but we figured, 'what's the worst that could happen?'"
Upon their return to Salt Lake City, the training staff of the Utah Jazz quickly rushed him into the gym. Despite being cognitive, Len Bias was still very much emotionless; he had lost almost all of his long-term memory and therefore, was practically robotic in his demeanor—giving the Utah Jazz free reign to do whatever the hell they wanted. Bias excelled in his first exercises and drills, proving to the ownership that he retained not only his muscle mass, but muscle memory as well. For the next few months, the training staff pushed Len Bias to his limits to see what he was capable of. Amazed with his progress, he was given the "go ahead" to begin practicing with the starting rotation. Although he was still somewhat raw in regards to physique and overall talent, that was to be expected: Not only was he literally just resurrected from the dead, but he had no prior professional experience as well. Nevertheless, Len Bias displayed enough talent to convince the ownership group that he was destined for stardom.
"I'll admit, everybody was a little nervous," GM Digiskunk recalled. "We had no clue what to expect. But Len Bias pretty much picked up where he left off in the 80s—the only difference was how much the game had changed since then. We were forced to change his position and teach him how to operate in his new role. It took some time, but it definitely paid off."
After the draft lottery landed the Utah Jazz the 2nd overall pick in the 2028‑2029 PBSL Draft, they were ready to strike. Nobody in the league knew what they were up to; everybody believed that the Jazz would select either David Leiker or Norrin Radd with their pick. Almost as soon as the Suns drafted Ben Franklin with the 1st overall pick, Utah's pick was in. The commissioner stepped up to the podium with sweat dripping down his face.
"With the 2nd pick of the 2028 PBSL Draft, the Utah Jazz select ... the ghost of Len Bias ... out of Area 51?" he quizzically uttered.
The reaction of the crowd was to be expected: Everybody was hysterical, uncertain of what they just heard. Could it be possible? What the hell was going on?
Suddenly, the lights went out, leaving the entire arena in darkness. After a brief moment of silence, Kane's music began blarring throughout the arena, leading many to run for the exit. Flames erupted near the back tunnel, revealing the silhouette of a tall man standing in the background. Walking through the plumes of smoke, Len Bias stood in awe of the audience that had attended the event. As he walked robotically toward the podium, the remaining crowd sat in silence, their jaws nearly dropping to the floor. The commissioner, who has by now shat his pants, extended his clammy, shaking hand for a handshake. Bias immediately reached for his hand and shook it as tightly as he could, locking eyes with the commissioner. After staring him down for a few seconds to assert dominance, Len Bias stepped back and slowly approached the podium. "I'm back," he spoke into the microphone.
Not only was Len Bias back, but so were the Utah Jazz, who were eager to draft their point guard of the future.
And just like that, they had him.