IT HAS TAKEN months to get here. Months of waiting, for Joel Embiid to play, for him not to play, for him to decide what, if anything, he wants to say about a season that once seemed so full of promise.
We're in his piano room. He's leaning back on a couch that seemed spacious until he eased his long body onto it. He's wearing a matching set -- pinstriped shorts and a camp collar shirt. His son, Arthur, peeks around corners from the hallway to see what we're up to. His wife, Anne de Paula, is upstairs preparing for her birthday celebration that evening.