"It all started about a year ago on NBA draft night last June, when Young Buck began freefalling down the lottery board at Madison Square Garden.

Blake Griffin glides to the Los Angeles Clippers, who have the No. 1 overall pick.

No surprise there. . . .

Hasheem Thabeet No. 2, James Harden No. 3 and Tyreke Evans, point guard extraordinaire, all find homes, with Evans heading to Sacramento at No. 4 for a soon-to-be Rookie of the Year campaign.

Still, no surprise. . . .

Then Minnesota takes Spanish alleged sensation, Ricky Rubio, with the No. 5 pick . . . and the Timberwolves turn around andSyracuse's diminutive ironman, Jonny Flynn, with the No. 6 pick.

Hmmmm. . . .

Next up, the Golden State Warriors take shooter supreme Stephen Curry of tiny Davidson with the No. 7 pick and the New York Knicks, still desperate for a point guard, follow that up with, surprise, power forward Jordan Hill at No. 8.

That was the straw.

Brandon Jennings, somewhere in New York City, was most likely confused, upset and basically ticked off. He had been pulled out of the green room on the morning of the draft because his agent, Bill Duffy, had no inkling when his client would be selected.

Thankfully, Brandon doesn't hear the Toronto RaptorsDeMar DeRozan with the No. 9 pick.

And he doesn't hear NBA commissioner David Stern's announcement that should be music to his ears: "With the No. 10 pick, the Milwaukee BucksBrandon Jennings."

Somebody from his crew does, and Brandon rushes back to the Garden midway through the first round in his sharp black suit, white shirt and boss lavender tie to pick up his hat and jersey and get his swagger back."