There are World Cup fans from Croatia and the Ivory Coast who have been in town longer than Mike Gansey. 

His Process took 34 days.

And he didn’t lose a single game on purpose.

In perhaps the most stunning trade in the 250 years of Philadelphia, Gansey swiped a true star from our bitter Colonial rivals and instantly turned a tepid Sixers team into a title contender. And the morning after I’m still checking X to make sure it’s the real Shams Charania, who first reported that the Sixers landed Jaylen Brown for PED Paul George and picks.

Trading with the Celtics always felt like dealing with the devil. In the end, you were going to lose your soul (see Markelle Fultz for essentially Jayson Tatum). But mercifully, Brad Stevens is not his predecessor Prince of Hoop Darkness, Danny Ainge. And the only explanation to this thievery is that nobody else in the league could afford the salary and trade package after Stevens blew the Brown relationship for good by lusting after Giannis.

Seems preposterous that no other team could beat that offer for a top-5 scorer in the league but Good for Gansey.

He came in as unheralded as any executive in the history of the town; his hire reported on a Happy Hour Friday, which is as close as you can get to the middle of the night with the sun still up.  

Zero fanfare. From Cleveland. In his presser, he did not profess to be a professor. He talked culture and ball. Fountains, drains and defense. He did not wear custom-made dress shirts with big collars. He did not look like Count Dracula or a slovenly intellectual because that’s the look of a genius. He did not talk about star hunting. He did not incessantly mention analytics. He did not talk about James Harden as the savior. He did rely on if only Joel Embiid can healthy. He did not say the Sixers were one or two pieces away. He did not say if you squint you could see the Promise Land, which happened last in 1983 and might as well have been the times of the biblical Moses since only the middle-aged and older remember it. 

Gansey just kept it real and said the Sixers “were not a championship-caliber team” right now.  

He said that on June 8. Guess what? A few weeks and a draft later, behind the fire power Tyrese Maxey, V.J. Edgecomb and Jaylen Brown, they are now … wit’ or wit’out Embiid in the lineup. Jo Jo is all bonus now. 

Gansey has cleaned up Morey’s Mess with the deftness and swiftness of Mister Wolf, right down to brain detail. 

First the draft: Labaron Philon, the guard you needed since the McCain trade. A dynamic 20-year-old who can be a legitimate lead guard off the bench, which the Sixers haven’t had since T.J. McConnell, with a ceiling that reaches the sky. 

Then the little moves. 

Dean Wade, a versatile four man who can defend three positions and rebound. 

Then Ariel Hukporti, an athletic big who has fresh legs. Again, defense and rebounding. 

Kissing goodbye to Grimes and Oubre, who were the epitome of good-numbers-on-bad-teams guys, heart of the Process players with losing DNA. 

And there’s still room to at least woo LeBron. He’s looking for a final act and will play for cheap to make it successful. Why not here? Brown, Maxey, Edgecomb and whatever you get for Embiid is more attractive than graybeard Golden State. And his spot in the frontcourt on this team is perfect. He doesn’t have to carry the big burden here and his role would have real relevance. He’s not just a ring chaser.    

Maxey, Edgecomb, Brown, LeBron and Embiid as your starters? 

Yes, please. 

And most importantly, it feels right. None of it feels like a quick-fix gimmick which has been the hallmark for this team over the past decade. First it was build around Simmons. Then it was Euro ball. Then it was Jimmy Butler Ball. Then it was Bully Ball. Then it was all Joel Hans Ball. Then it was Beard Ball. 

By the time the ride stopped, you were nauseous and tired and left with a tired George and Embiid, with contracts that seemed as moveable as Walt Whitman Bridge. 

The only solace was Maxey and Edgecomb. At least there was something fun to watch on the way to the play-in.

Until the unheralded new GM who just loves ball swung for the fences and connected like Schwarber. 

Thirty-four days. 

From Who Gansey to Howie Gansey. 

This is Philadelphia and we’ll crown and coronate in one breath and then crush and castigate in the next. Getting out the second round for the first time since Iverson is not guaranteed but bleak just turned really interesting. 

Clap your hands and Play the Song.