Phoenix's music is bad news for Europe
A Greek teammate of mine once took me to a post-practice dinner in his tiny Audi. On the way, I asked him to play some of his favorite music.
He considered my request for a few seconds and then put in a CD. What poured forth was music I would have associated with 1950s-era Greek immigrants in Chicago -- ones who were clinging desperately to their shared cultural heritage. It was not music I would have expected to have played for me by a fast-living 22-year-old Greek basketball ...
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