The day Petrie signed with the Kings, Jimmer was 11 years old...
One day while traveling with the team to watch the Kings play in Salt Lake City, Geoff grew rather bored with the wait until gametime and warm ups and decided to go for a spin. He rented a vehicle and took off, driving anywhere and everywhere he could go. There was a traffic accident up ahead on the main city roads so Geoff quickly exited the main streets and headed into the urban areas, away from the city lights. As he was driving through neighborhoods, he noticed that game time and warm ups were soon approaching, so he had to get back to the arena. As he was making a U-turn back to the main roads, he heard a very simple and faint swish from the very depths of his hearing..
Geoff's eyes lit, his heart burst into flame, and adrenaline rushed through his veins. I know that tone of swish from a mile away... Thought Petrie..He took a deep breath. Exhaled.Shooter. He raced through the neighborhood, trying to look for basketball hoops, anywhere. As he drove up and down each street, block by block, all he could hear was the sound of that pure swish. It tortured Geoff. He felt like a child on Christmas Eve, impatiently waiting for Christmas mourn...
Up and down he drove the streets. Over there? NO!
Over here? NO!
Where is it coming from! Geoff's mind was blistering with excited anticipation. Anxiously searching for the sweet swish to rid him of the tormenting restlessness. Game time and warm ups were approaching, and approaching fast it was. He so urgently desired to fine the shooter of the swish, but he went through all the roads and streets. A tear fled his right eye, as he knew it was impossible to find the shooter...
As he drove towards the main streets to the arena, he then saw a bright light. Geoff pin pointed where the light shined, and at that very moment.. And by God was that moment spectacular.. Petrie eyed the little white boy shooting in a cul de sac he missed while entering the neighborhood. Drool sipping down his mouth, he proceeded and crept towards the little white boy's house.. He watched in amazement as with every shot the boy took, it was swish after swish. It wasn't a normal swish, no no no.... It was the shooter's swish.
At 4 miles per hour, Geoff slowly crept towards the boy's home.. he turned off his lights so the boy wouldn't get distracted by an oncoming car so he would continue with his shooting.. Stalker-like, Geoff sat in his car and watched the boy shoot. Every shot he took, swish. Anywhere he shot, swish. After 30 minutes of utter ecstasy, Geoff quickly regained consciousness and of time. He was late for the game, as the Kings were playing the Utah Jazz. He had to think fast, and fast he thought! He turned on the engine and drove towards the boy.
He came around the house and made eye contact with the boy. Rolled the passenger side window down and hollered, "Hey, you got a pretty nice shot there pal."
"I DON'T TALK TO STRANGERS.", responded the 11 year old Fredette. As he was ready to bolt back into the house.
"No, no, no!!! Don't do that..! Please..Just tell me your name..!!"
"My name?"
"Yes, just your name. GOD, please, just tell me your name!! asdfasdl;kfjadf!!!"
"You're not a serial killer are you?"
"JUST TELL ME YOUR @#%DAMN NAME!!!"
"Jimmer."
Petrie hit the gas and headed towards the arena, left nothing but tire marks and the smell of burned rubber.
So, yeah, I agree with the OP.
According to this obviously true story, GP has been building team after team, trying to find a right formula to fit Jimmer's play style.
Waiting for Jimmer's fruition.
..and now, 14 years later...
...The stars aligned and point to the one and only..
Jimmer...
...Fredette...
