Right before tip-off in Dallas, Anthony Edwards wasn’t on the floor. The Minnesota Timberwolves‘ starters were announced, the game was about to begin, and he was missing. A minute later, he jogged in, smiling, later admitting in the post-game press conference that he was in the bathroom.
“I was taking a sh*t.”
That moment sounds random, but it lines up with who he’s always been. Back in high school, coaches used to delay practice because Edwards would head to the bathroom right before sessions started. Everyone waited. According to his high school coach, Tysor Anderson:
“He always had to take a sh*t before practice. For some reason, the bowels always started to move like, right before practices started.”
It became part of the schedule. Coaches would wait for him to finish detention, handle whatever else he had going on, and then wait again for him to get ready physically. Only then would practice begin.
That mix of chaos and routine defined Edwards early. He was playing a national schedule at Holy Spirit Prep, traveling across states to face elite talent, including matchups against teams led by top prospects like James Wiseman. At the same time, he was dealing with detentions, dress code issues, and constant discipline challenges.
If you look at this closely, you see a bigger point. When you produce at a high level, people adjust around you. Edwards came back from a six-game injury absence and still dropped 17 points in 23 minutes. So when you deliver like that, the small stuff doesn’t stick the same way.
But here’s where it matters. You don’t get that kind of leeway unless your performance backs it up. Edwards might want flexibility and might want to move on his own timing, but you have to earn that space first. And if you don’t, those same habits get called out instead of laughed off.
And Edwards has earned it, with his career-best season, averaging 29.3 points, 5.0 rebounds, and 3.7 assists, shooting 49.3% from the field and 40.4% from three-point range. But he has missed 16 games already this season, meaning he will have to appear in the next six out of the next seven games to make the cut for the All-NBA team.
Still, this moment stands out because it shows the human side of a superstar. One minute, he is missing the tip-off for a reason everyone understands. Next, he is back on the floor producing at an elite level. That contrast is part of what makes Edwards different.
From high school practices to NBA games, some habits do not change. The stakes get higher, the stage gets bigger, but the personality stays the same. And once he gets on the court, none of it matters.
