Neighborhood.

[Soapy]

Highlight Game: December 18th, 2026 - Moda Center, Portland, Oregon
(7-20) Charlotte Hornets at Portland Trail Blazers (11-17)

---

CHA | 29 | 27 | 18 | 27 | 101
POR | 29 | 34 | 31 | 25 | 119

Starting Lineups
Tre Mann - G - Damian Lillard
Brandon Miller - G - Shaedon Sharpe
A.J. Dybantsa - F - Michael Porter Jr.
Cameron Boozer - F - Deni Avdija
Kai Jones - C - Keshawn Chase



C Kai Jones: 24 pts, 14 reb, 10-24 FG, 4-5 FT
F Cameron Boozer: 18 pts, 5 reb, 3 ast, 6-17 FG, 6-9 3PT
F A.J. Dybansta: 3 pts, 6 reb, 7 ast, 1-17 FG, 1-5 3PT

G Damian Lillard: 16 pts, 2 reb, 4 ast, 5-17 FG, 4-10 3PT
G Shaedon Sharpe: 11 pts, 9 ast, 5-10 FG, 1-5 3PT
F Michael Porter Jr: 16 pts, reb, ast, 6-8 FG, 4-5 3PT
F Deni Avdija: 19 pts, 11 reb, 7-10 FG, 5-6 3PT
F Keshawn Chase: 35 pts, 20 reb, 14-24 FG, 3-10 3PT, 4-4 FT

---

(9-15) @ (9-16)

NO | 26 | 41 | 35 | 18 | 120
POR | 30 | 36 | 32 | 29 | 127

NO F Trey Murphy III: 31 Pts, 6 Reb, 2 Blk, 10-19 FG, 8-14 3PT
POR F Keshawn Chase: 16 Pts, 16 Reb, 16 Ast, 2 Blk, 8-16 FG

---

(10-15) @ (9-17)

NO | 27 | 30 | 35 | 27 | 119
POR | 16 | 37 | 31 | 32 | 116

NO G Jeremiah Fears: 31 Pts, 11-20 FG, 5-11 3PT
POR F Keshawn Chase: 24 Pts, 11 Reb, 10 Ast, 10-25 FG, 0-7 3PT

---

(10-17) @ (10-17)

NO | 34 | 34 | 23 | 23 | 114
POR | 37 | 33 | 44 | 33 | 143

NO G Dejounte Murray: 28 Pts, 7 Ast, 4 Stl, 9-16 FG, 5-8 3PT
POR F Keshawn Chase: 27 Pts, 11 Reb, 12 Ast, 2 Stl, 2 Blk, 10-16 FG, 2-4 3PT, 5-8 FT

Upcoming Schedule vs. Denver Nuggets (15-11), at Washington Wizards (20-7), vs. Dallas Mavericks (19-11), vs. Memphis Grizzlies (10-17)
Season Stats 25.4 PPG, 10.9 RPG, 8.1 APG, 1.3 SPG, 1.4 BPG, 2.8 TOPG, 49 FG%, 26 3PT%, 83 FT%

[Captain Canada]

Playing the Pelicans three times in a row is hilarious

Chase doing his thing though, maybe that chain he got snatched was weighing him down.

[Caesar]

The Pelicans were in Portland for like a week and a half with that schedule. Keshawn lucky Candace don’t live there or Zion would’ve been punching dick in her

[Soapy]

Playing the Pelicans three times in a row is hilarious

Chase doing his thing though, maybe that chain he got snatched was weighing him down.

fairs

The Pelicans were in Portland for like a week and a half with that schedule. Keshawn lucky Candace don’t live there or Zion would’ve been punching dick in her

Candace don't got a BBL, she safe

[Soapy]

The Good, The Bad and The Dollar Menu - Episode 10
Keshawn sat with the engine off, staring at the chain-link fence that surrounded the outdoor court where a couple kids were playing. He'd spent whole summers on courts like this one.

The gym itself looked different in daylight. Smaller somehow. The paint on the exterior walls had faded more than he remembered, tagged with graffiti that hadn't been there just a few years ago. They'd drive over in Vic's beat-up Civic, a welcome escape from his new reality at at the time.

UCLA had felt impossible back then. The NBA wasn’t even a thought. Now he was here, sitting in a parking lot, waiting to meet a stranger about getting back jewelry that cost more than most people made in a year.

The knock on the window made him jump.

A man stood outside the driver's side door, his hands visible, his expression calm. Not threatening, but not exactly friendly either. Keshawn's hand hovered over the ignition button. He could start the car right now. Could drive away. Could pretend this whole thing never happened, that he never went to see Trey, that he never opened his mouth about the chain.

But he didn't.

He pressed the button to lower the window instead. The sound of the basketball game got louder, mixed with the distant hum of traffic on Crenshaw.

"I’m going to take you Keshawn?" the man asked.

"Yeah."

"I'm DJ." He glanced at the passenger seat. "Mind if I get in? Johnny might think we partaking in illegal activities or what not."

Keshawn thought about Vic's words. About Candace telling him to let it go. About Dame's voice in his head, talking about leadership and making the right decisions. And still, he unlocked the door.

DJ walked around the front of the car, opening the the passenger door and slid in, adjusting the seat back to accommodate his frame. The leather creaked under his weight. He looked around the interior, nodding slightly, but didn't say anything about the car.

"OG said you needed some help retrieving some merchandise of yours," DJ said, his voice even. Conversational. Like they were talking about last night’s game.

"Yeah," Keshawn's hands stayed on the steering wheel even though the engine wasn't running.

"That’s how it goes sometimes," DJ turned slightly in his seat. "What'd the chain look like?"

Keshawn pulled out his phone, his fingers moving to his camera roll until coming across a picture Candace had taken of him over the summer.

He handed the phone to DJ.

DJ studied the image, his expression neutral. "Shit, I see why you want that motherfucker back. Fourteen?"

"Eighteen," Keshawn corrected.

"How much you pay for this?"

The question felt invasive, but Keshawn answered anyway. "Forty-five."

DJ didn't react to the number. Just nodded and swiped to the next photo. "And the watch?"

"Rolex. Sky-Dweller. White gold with the blue dial."

"Where'd this happen?" DJ asked.

"After-hours spot in Hollywood. Off Melrose."

"Which one?"

"I don't remember the name. It was small. Red door, cursive sign."

"Time?"

"Like two, maybe three in the morning."

DJ nodded slowly, processing. "How many of them were there?"

"Five, maybe six. I wasn't exactly counting."

"Fair enough. Any of them you recognize besides the rapper nigga?"

Keshawn shook his head. "Just him. Trell. Big Trell, that's what my girl called him."

"He pull the gun or was it one of his boys?"

"One of his boys. Stocky dude, face tats."

"What kind of tattoos?"

"I don't know, man. It was dark, I was drunk."

"Your girl try to stop them?"

"Nah."

DJ nodded. "Anybody else looking for this shit? Police? Some ex-fed NBA security nigga?"

"I don't think so."

"You sure about that?"

Keshawn hesitated. "Pretty sure. My girl the only else that knows and she told me to let it go."

"Alright," DJ cleared his throat, "I’ll see what I can do."

…

"Yo, about the other day," Keshawn started.

Vic paused, meeting his eyes in the reflection of the window above the sink. "What about it?"

"My bad for coming at you like that."

Vic turned around, tossing the paper towel in the trash. "I get it, man. Don’t nobody like getting booked for their shit. Shit, my shit from Claire’s and I’d be pissed if a nigga ran me for it."

"Yeah," Keshawn forced himself laugh.

Vic grabbed a beer from the fridge, offered one to Keshawn who declined. They settled into the couch, Yesenia's show playing at a volume that was somehow both too loud and background noise.

"How's Jessica?" Keshawn asked.

"She's good," Vic took a pull from his beer, "Starting to find a rhythm with our schedules and shit."

"She seeing anybody yet?"

"I don’t know," Vic shrugged, "Don’t care either, long as the nigga ain’t around my baby."

Keshawn nodded. He knew Vic well enough to hear what wasn't being said.

"You heard from Angela?" The question came out before Keshawn could stop it.

Vic shook his head. "Nah. Not in a minute."

"She still with that nigga? Fucking Rodney or whatever?"

"Far as I know."

The silence that followed felt heavy. Keshawn watched Yesenia laugh at something on the TV, her whole body shaking with it.

"You good though?" Keshawn pressed.

"I'm straight," Vic took another sip of his beer. "Got my daughter. Got my job. Got my own spot. Can't ask for much more than that."

But Keshawn heard the lie in it. Not a full lie, but the kind of half-truth people told themselves to make it through the day. Vic was good at that. At taking whatever life handed him and making it work. At not complaining. At just handling shit.

"How's the season going?" Vic asked, changing the subject.

"Nigga, you know how it’s going. We're inconsistent as fuck. Can't string together wins."

"Y'all just need time. I like that young boy, the Chicano. Once y’all can play him and MPJ and Sharpe on the floor at the same time with you as the big? Teams can’t handle that shit."

"Dame keeps saying the same thing."

"Because it's true," Vic set his beer down on the coffee table. "You putting up numbers though. That’s all you can do."

"On a sorry ass team, though."

"And? Nigga, that's what you supposed to do. You the franchise. You supposed to get buckets right now, show the league that you one of them so you can cash the fuck out when your extension is up and then you worry about winning and shit."

"Appreciate you, bro," Keshawn said quietly.

"For what?"

"Just everything. You know. Looking out for me all these years. Making sure I was straight when I first got to the Village."

Vic waved him off. "Man, that's just what family do."

"Nah, it's more than that," Keshawn insisted. "You didn't have to do none of that. You chose to. And I wouldn't be here without you. Real shit."

Vic looked uncomfortable now, shifting in his seat. "Alright, nigga. You getting all emotional on me. We watching cartoons and shit."

"I'm just saying."

"I hear you," Vic's voice softened. "But you did all the work. I just made sure you had space to do it. That's it."

Yesenia's show ended and she immediately demanded another episode. Vic told her one more, then they had to go outside and play.

"How's Candace?" Vic asked once Yesenia was absorbed in her show again.

"She's good. Working on new music."

"Y'all good? I know you ain’t use to the cameras and shit."

"Yeah, we're straight," Keshawn said and it wasn't entirely a lie. They'd talked it out. Sort of. Enough that they were speaking again and he wasn’t ignoring her texts. "She just wants me to be more present, you know? More attentive."

"That's not unreasonable."

"I know. It's just hard with the schedule and everything."

"Then you gotta make time," Vic said it like it was simple. "If she's important to you, you make it work. That's it."

"How you manage it?" Keshawn asked. "With Jessica and Yesenia? The co-parenting thing?"

"I just show up," Vic said. "Every time I'm supposed to be there, I'm there. Every time Yesenia needs something, I handle it. That's all I can do. That’s what I wasn’t doing before."

"But don't you want more? Like, situation aside, you and Jessica, that could work."

Vic was quiet for a long moment. On the TV, cartoon characters sang a song about friendship. Yesenia mouthed along with the words as best as she could.

"I don't know, man," Vic said finally. "Maybe. But that ain't where I'm at right now. I got my daughter. I got my work. That's enough for now. I don’t want to fuck it up trying to make something else work too, you know?"

Keshawn nodded. He understood that. The way you could fill your life with enough things that you didn't have to think about what was missing. Basketball did that for him.

"I was by that gym the other day," Keshawn gestured vaguely in the direction of the park. "The one Shai got jumped at?"

"Hell yeah," Vic smiled. "You was scared as fuck to come back out there."

"Man, fuck you."

"We ran niggas off that court though."

They both laughed. Yesenia looked back at them, curious about what was funny, then returned to her show.

"I was scared as hell back then," Keshawn admitted.

"I know you were," Vic said quietly.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while. Yesenia's show played.

"You staying for dinner?" Vic asked.

"Nah, heading back tonight."

"Alright."

Keshawn stood, stretched. Yesenia noticed and ran over for another hug. He picked her up, squeezed her tight, then set her down.

"Take care of your pops," he told her.

Vic walked him to the door. They did that half-hug, half-handshake thing that men did when they loved each other but couldn't quite say it directly.

"Be easy, my nigga," Vic said.

"You too," Keshawn replied.

…

"So you finally made it," she said, stepping aside to let him in.

Keshawn walked past her into the living room. "Yeah, I had to handle a couple of things."

"A couple of things," Candace closed the door harder than necessary. "You landed at what, seven this morning?"

"Around then."

"And it's five now," she moved past him toward the kitchen. "But you had to handle some things."

Keshawn set his bag down by the couch, watching her pull something from the oven. "I went to see Vic. Spent some time with Yesenia."

"That's nice," her voice was flat. "Would've been nicer if you'd told me that instead of me waiting all day for you."

"I didn't think—"

"You never do," Candace set the dish on the stovetop with a clang. "That's the problem."

"I'm here now," he sighed.

"For what, an hour or two?" Candace turned to face him. "I'm supposed to be grateful for that?"

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to."

"Look," he tried again, "I'm sorry, alright? I should've come by earlier."

Candace exhaled slowly, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. "I just miss you, that's all. We barely see each other as it is."

"I know."

She moved closer, her hand finding his as he brought her in for a hug. "Have you thought about Christmas yet?"

The question caught him off guard. "Not really."

"Well, start thinking," she squeezed his hand. "Because I want to spend it together. I don’t care that you have a game, we’ll make it work."

Keshawn's mind went immediately to Thanksgiving. To his mother's barely concealed judgment. To Gabrielle's drunken provocations. To that whole disaster of an evening.

"Yeah, maybe," he said, the words coming out wrong.

Candace's hand dropped from his. "Maybe?"

"I just mean—"

"You just mean what, Keshawn?"

"My parents are probably going to want to do something," he said, knowing even as he spoke that it was the wrong move. "And after last time—"

"After last time what?" Candace's voice had gone cold. "After your mom made it clear she thinks I'm trash?"

"She didn't say that."

"She didn't have to."

Keshawn ran his hand over his face. In a few hours, he’d be on a plane, trying to get some sleep with Nikola Jokic coming into town. This was the last thing he needed the day before.

"I'm just saying maybe we should do our own thing," he tried. "It doesn’t have to be on like Christmas Day, Christmas Day. We’re off the next day, we can do something then."

"Because you're embarrassed of me."

"What? No."

"Yes you are," Candace stepped back, putting distance between them. "You don't want me around your parents because I'm a rapper. Because I'm not good enough for them. For you."

"That's not true."

"Then what is it?" her voice rose. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're ashamed of what I do. Like being a rapper isn't a real job. Isn't respectable enough for Keshawn Chase's family."

"I never said that."

"You don't have to say it!" Candace's hands flew up. "You act like it. Every time we're around your parents, you get all tense. Like you're waiting for me to embarrass you."

"That's not—"

"And it's funny," she cut him off, "because last time I checked, you play basketball for a living. You bounce a ball and put it in a hoop. That's not exactly rocket science either."

"At least I'm not out here rapping about my pussy and shaking my ass for the internet," he shot back.

Candace's expression went cold. "Excuse me?"

Keshawn sucked his teeth and shook his head.

"No, say it again," she stepped closer. "Because I want to make sure I heard you correctly."

Keshawn knew he should stop. Should walk it back. But something in him wouldn't let it go.

"I'm just saying, if you want my parents to respect you, maybe don't make music that talks about fucking other niggas."

"Are you serious right now?"

"And while we're at it," the words were flowing now, unstoppable, "Yeah, maybe if you had a little more discernment, I wouldn’t have to worry about some fucking batshit crazy ex you got running around, robbing motherfuckers."

Candace's mouth fell open. "You're blaming me for that?"

"He wasn’t there for me."

"Since we’re bringing up exes," Candace laughed. "You didn’t tell me that girl that was with us that night was one of your exes."

"Who? Fucking Gloria?"

"Of course the bitch’s name is right on the tip of your tongue."

"That's different."

"How? How is it different?"

"Because I'm not making songs about fucking bitches! I'm not posting half naked fucking pictures on Instagram!"

Candace took a step back like he'd pushed her. "Excuse me, nigga?"

"Yeah," Keshawn was in it now, couldn't stop even though some part of him knew he should. "Every other post is you in some tight shit, looking at the camera all sexy. You know exactly what you're doing."

"I'm promoting my music."

"You're selling ass."

"Fuck you, nigga."

"And your songs," he continued, "talking about being single, about fucking other niggas, about how you don't need a man. Meanwhile you're supposed to be my girl."

"That's my art!"

"That's disrespectful!"

"Disrespectful?" Candace's voice cracked. "You want to talk about disrespect? How about ignoring my calls on your birthday to go to a strip club? How about that?"

"I apologized for that."

"An apology doesn't mean shit if you keep doing the same thing!"

They were both breathing hard now, standing on opposite sides of the living room.

"You know what?" Candace scoffed. "Maybe we need to take a break. Because this shit clearly isn’t working for anyone."