The Grand Unified Theory of Paul George

The NBA's most anomalous superstar is headed to lunch. It's a snow-flecked, hundred-yard saunter from Bankers Life Fieldhouse to Kilroy's Bar n' Grill in Indianapolis. Not long ago, Paul George swears, he could make this trek for a platter of Indy's finest stuffed breadsticks with nary a notice. But on this January day, no such anonymity. A Bud Light truck driver climbs out of his window to bellow "PG!" upon spotting the 23-year-old. In the restaurant, another man beseeches George for an autographed napkin; another requests a picture. By the time a lady thrusts a phone in George's face -- so her friend can hear him breathe, apparently -- the point is clear: This lunch is going to take time.