We hustled the NBA draft.

I’m an avid basketball fan. So was my dad.

In 2013, we binged March madness, watched Tim Duncan play in Texas, and scored some floor seats in Windy City. We also drove to MSG once a month to see the Knicks.

My dad got back from work — he came back later than usual.

“Jimbo. I got somethin’ for you.”

My head turned away from the TV.

“Oh? What is it?–”

He reached into the inside pocket of his blazer and pulled out two tickets.

“Nosebleeds. But we’re going to the draft.”

We [Knicks fans] drafted Tim Hardaway Jr. that night. We were underwhelmed and decided to leave early to beat the busy Brooklyn traffic.

You’re given a pamphlet upon arrival. The pamphlet lists which team gets which pick and some FAQs. There’s a small community of fanatics who travel across the country, game-to-game, to get their pamphlets signed by each drafted player — it’s a tight-knit community that few know about. We certainly had no idea.

The leftover pamphlets were stacked in paper bags near the entrance for the trash collectors to dump. “Quick. Pick up those bags and carry them to the car.” This was his normal behavior (hoarding and collecting), so I didn’t question it.

Two weeks passed and the pamphlets were sold out. We put them up for sale on eBay and it covered the cost of the draft tickets plus some spending money.

We did the same thing in 2014. Only we took more pamphlets than the year before. We took enough to fill the trunk of his Lincoln Navigator and made a grand total of just over $8,000.

Money and opportunities are often found in strange places.