But enough grief: remember the basketball game? Avon's team is kicking some Eastside ass, yo! And the fun of the game has really made some unlikely bleacher buddies, as Poot comments, "Check out Avon. He's freaking!," and Herc quietly tells Carver, "I think Avon's here." I...think you're right? Brilliant deduction. Carver asks where, and Herc says he doesn't know what Avon looks like. They didn't see the poster? I would have thought they'd have a special briefing just so everyone could commit his face to memory. Then we get a shot of the Westside bench, with Avon right in the middle in his insanely red t-shirt, screaming like a mofo.
Detail office. The phone rings, and then Daniels excitedly pokes his head out of his office to tell Sydnor and Santangelo that they might have a visual on Avon at the game. He asks where Kima and Lester are, and Sydnor tells him about Shardene. Daniels picks up the phone and tells Herc to stay on the radio with Carver. McNulty rolls up just as Daniels comes out again to say, "We should follow him." McNulty asks why: "He ain't gonna touch drugs or money anywhere you can see him, Lieutenant." Daniels smirks a little, and condescends, "In Narcotics, we follow guys. We do it well, we make cases on it." McNulty rolls his eyes and leaves the room again, but Daniels is undeterred, as he puts his sidearm on and strides purposefully out of his office: "Mount up." Sydnor and Santangelo follow, but McNulty stays behind. Prez marvels that McNulty's been on Barksdale "three months" but doesn't even want to "get a look at him." McNulty says that he wouldn't know Avon if he "fell over him in the street." Okay, I know he saw the poster, so what the fuck? Anyway, McNulty goes on: "The thing is, I don't need to. We get him by voice alone, or we don't get him." Prez doesn't look sufficiently grateful not to have to be lonely in the office today.
Basketball game. Something happens that makes Avon very happy, and then we see that the score is 33-45 at the half. Avon and Prop Joe put aside the trash talk, and Prop Joe graciously tells Avon that he got a good ringer. Avon mildly says that it's not Joe's year, and Prop Joe shrugs, "It look that way, but you never know." Avon points out that Westside's up by twelve points, and Prop Joe agrees, but guess what? "I got a proposition for you." Well, that would stand to reason. Avon's listening. "Double down?" offers Prop Joe. "Let's give this wager a clean six figures." Avon is supremely confident, replying, "I don't give a fuck, baby -- it's your money. You can waste it if you want." How a gangster like Avon can't see the next twist coming, I am sure I do not know, but Prop Joe gives a pointed look toward his bench, and a kid grins and nods and takes off his tearaways. I'm guessing he's not just the manager.
In a truck, Daniels looks at a photocopy of Avon's old boxing photo, asking if anyone's got a visual on the present-day version. Herc radios that he doesn't even know what he's looking for. Daniels shakes his head. Play has resumed. Sydnor makes his way up the hill to the court, scanning the crowd on the sidelines. He seems to reject Prop Joe as a possibility, then Wee-Bey, then Stringer, and then his eyes pass over the space beside Stringer, but as soon as Avon sits back down, Sydnor's gaze swings back, and even with the visor and sunglasses, he can identify the target. Locks on like a tractor beam, in fact.