On Friday night, sometime during the first quarter, Gilbert Arenas will mosey up to the scorer's table and perhaps look toward Verizon Center's rafters, where the jerseys of Wes, The Big E, the Pearl and Gus Johnson hang.
When the whistle blows and the Orlando Magic's backup point guard checks into the game, will you boo the irresponsible multimillionaire who embarrassed the franchise and its fan base by bringing guns to work 14 months ago?
Or will you respectfully cheer one of the most dedicated athletes this city has ever seen, a guy who drove to the gym in the middle of the night because he still had that nobody-wants-me chip on his shoulder - left over from being told he would never play a minute at Arizona, left over from sleeping in a Mazda hatchback before his father found a job to support himself and his 7-year-old son?
Will you remember what was or regret what might have been?
"You know, some people just can't forgive," Arenas said Thursday. "And that's just the way life is. You know, I can't forgive some things, either. At some point I hope they can forgive me as a person.