Editor’s Note: The Insider is a recurring entertainment feature built around publicly available information, informed analysis and educated speculation. It does not claim access to confidential sources inside the Tennessee basketball program, nor should any predictions be interpreted as factual reporting of non-public information.
I finally heard from my guy yesterday, you know the one who’s deep, deep inside the program. That’s all you need to know. I don’t want to compromise my source so I can keep bringing y’all the goods, and he’s got the goods, no doubt about that. How do I know? Yesterday he smelled like sweaty sneakers and orange Gatorade; need I say more?
Anyway I probably shouldn’t even be talking about this, but he told me to meet him at an IHOP on Kingston Pike; I’m not sayin’ which one. I think it was by the Dollar Tree. Anyway that’s not important. Now I remember, yeah it was definitely by the Dollar Tree.
So when I got there he was already sitting at a dimly lit corner booth. Right after I sat down he asked the waitress for the bathroom lock code, and as he got up to head that way he told me when the waitress came back to ask her if she’s got any other corner booths that are more dimly lit than this one. It was right then I knew he had something serious to hand me. I was just hoping he washed his hands before he came back.
Anyway by the time he got back and sat down, his short stack with bacon and over easy eggs were waitin’ on him. I wasn’t hungry, I’d just come from Arby’s. He said, “Why aren’t you eating?” I said, “I just came from Arby’s.” He said it might look suspicious if only one of us was eating, so I ordered a short stack, hold the bacon.
After 3 hotcakes and nearly a whole glass of OJ, he hadn’t said a word. I leaned forward and half-whispered, “Um, did you say you’ve got something about Nasir?” He stared at me for several seconds and asked, “What’s a Nasir?” I said, “Dude what?! Nasir Anderson.” He said, “Shhhhhhhhh! What the hell’s wrong with you?” and took another bite of his eggs.
I said, “Is there any particular reason you brought in that manilla envelope stamped CONFIDENTIAL? Is that for me?” He said, “Dude, why would that be for you? That’s from my wife’s attorney.” I wrapped my open hand over my mouth and stared to the side for probably 20 seconds. Then I leaned forward again and said, “You asked me to meet you here because you said you had info on Nasir Anderson and Tennessee. What is it?” He suddenly turned serious, put down his fork, sat up straight as a board and said, “Okay look. This comes straight from the source. And I mean THE source.” My eyes rolled left, then right, then straight at him. “You talking about Bertelkamp?” He shot back, “No, what the – dude, come on, seriously?!!? You know damn well who I’m talking about.” I said, “Okay, okay, sorry, so what are you saying?” A pause and a slow exhale later, he looked me dead in the eyes…”We’re in his Top 10.”
Our eyes locked dead on, we sat motionless for a full minute. I then said, “Dude that’s on the news. And it’s been on the news for like 3 days.” He grinned that sly grin of his, turned away just enough to be able to side-eye me and said with a proud smirk, “And where do you think they got it from, hmm?” And then it hit me. Yes sir, I was still talking to the guy who knows how to get things. I said, “No way dude, are you serious right now?!”
He eased back, wiped his mouth with a white napkin and threw it down on top of his plate as he stood up. I was transfixed by his every move. After a few deliberate steps he turned around, shot an index finger straight at me with a fully extended arm and said, “Nasir’s coming. Book it.” Then just before turning to walk away again, he pointed at the check laying on the table and snappily said…”Oh by the way, can you get that?”