Auburn Hills — He’s been here a while, longer than any teammates, longer than the staff and front office. It’s a place he never thought he’d be, the pivotal pillar of a team, one of the best in the NBA at his position.
You look at Andre Drummond and see a 6-folot-11 terror, a rare imposing presence in a league full of swift guards and smooth-shooting wings.
You look again and see a 23-year-old guy who laughs as he pulls a broken brace out of his teeth and holds up the offending piece of wire.