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Andrew Bynum, who was supposed to become the centerpiece of the Philadelphia 76ers, still has yet to take the court for his new team. He thinks he’ll make his Sixer debut after the NBA All-Star break, maybe. Then again, maybe not.

So far, this whole experience has been the real-life equivalent of the Viktor Vaughn (aka MF Doom) song “Let Me Watch.”

For starters, it was love at first sight for the Sixers and their fans. They had finally gotten the franchise center that they hadn’t had since Moses Malone, the first potential superstar player since Allen Iverson’s first ride around — and they showed Bynum that “love at first sight.”

He flashed the grin, said all the right things. He spoke, we listened. He listened, we spoke. We couldn’t help but think of all that flashing potential, but then, whispers on the phone that his knees were worse than first thought. There was all this talk and the Sixers ain’t even seen Bynum yet.

Then he said some stupid shit, injured himself bowling, and started getting more attention for his hair than his career. The longer it goes on, the more we doubt this shit is gonna work.

Now all Bynum can do is what he’s done all season, watch. So we let him watch, but is he gonna let us watch? Because if he doesn’t soon, the Sixers and their fans would rather masturbate than fuck with Andrew Bynum.

Just get out there on the court and let me watch.