A treatise on Agent Zero.

Once upon a time, Gilbert Arenas was a guard with a chip on his shoulder a phenomenal swagger and an ability to score fueled by revenge and a hyperbaric chamber. We all loved him. Even after he said that every move was a simple calculation, we still loved him.

And then he hurt his knee. He rehabbed. And he came back. For thirteen games.

And those among us who are among the more casual of NBA Fans? His Gilbertology became hack. Hey look! Gilbert Stole a Joke! Hey! Gilbert cheats at Halo! Hey! Gilbert Hates Milwaukee! So I Brown Recluse Esquire shall hate them too!

Sorry...

And now? After he gets a nine-figure contract and another knee injury that for which his return has been delayed for. All he is now is his blog and his antics. Even the most ardent supporters are pining for the days when Gil was king. And I've figured it out.

If you are going to present yourself as a character? You have to bring something else to the table. If circumstances force you away from being the Day Man? You are stuck with only being the night man.

When Gil returns? He can bring back the karate and friendship. I may come back and be the asshole fan who rolls up with love when he becomes awesome again. But if your gimmick is esoteric awesome and you get hurt. My advice?

Stealth mode son.