Friday night to lament the week's turn of events. As we sit at a table with draft sorrow-drowners in hand the wobbly table is bumped sending metaphorical pale ale tears to its surface. While our losses compile before us, we fold in half some coasters, wedge them beneath the troubled table appendage and wonder why the same can't be done for Roy - why can't someone just wedge some coasters where his menisci used to be and call it good?

In all seriousness, I think Roy should take his newfound time and invest his money into artificial meniscus tech over the next couple years and return to the court in bionic-like form by the time he's 30.

He's a hero, some say super, so is that Batman-esque scenario too far fetched?