Esquire got the 411 on NBA B-baller Gilbert Arenas’ gun collection.
I had a big gun collection. About four to five hundred guns. The guy I bought it from was in his seventies. He’d been collecting them for years. He had First World War guns. I bought his whole collection and added to it. I didn’t need a license to keep them in my house. There was an officer who would come by and look out for them. The door was reinforced and a security system was set up. But when my kids came, I said, I can’t have these guns around. We put everything in storage, but I kept four: a gold Desert Eagle. There was a Smith & Wesson 500. A Kimber. The other was an old gun with a long clip. None of them were loaded. I kept them in a lockbox in the empty locker next to mine.
Until he didn’t . . .
Next practice I come real early, and I get word that Javaris is there. When I see him, my mind says, Boo yow! My guns, put them on the chair. That’s where the problem came in — with the “boo yow!” I wasn’t using longevity thinking . . .
I put my four guns in my backpack so nobody could see them. I wrote the note: “Pick one.” Put the guns on a chair where Javaris would find them. I go in the training room where he was. I can see him — “What’s this? What’s this?”
“You said you were gonna shoot me in my knee. I’m giving you the guns to do it.”
“I don’t need you to give me nothing. I’ve got my own gun.” He pulls one out and puts the clip in. That’s when some of the other players are saying, Man, I gotta get out of here. But then he puts his earphones in and starts singing. So I pick my guns up. From there, everything settled down.
Until it didn’t.