Please David: An Okie’s Plea
I live in a state filled with assholes.
I don’t really consider myself one. I wasn’t born here after all, but it’s where I’ve spent the most of my time in my few decades of existence.
I have always had a sort of weird sense of pride being from here. The state is full of genuinely welcoming (so long as your straight and your skin tone is no darker than ecru.) and good people.
Both major cities, which I’ve been able to call home, have vibrant local music and arts scenes that fostered and produced the likes of Leon Russell, the Flaming Lips and more. But still, almost every time we’re mentioned nationally, it’s something that makes me want to crawl into a bottle of booze (which I can only buy at liquor stores Mon-Sat, 10-9, un-refrigerated and not on state holidays) or drown my sorrows in beer (Only 3.2% alcohol by weight at gas stations/grocery stores, a holdover from idiotic blue laws that are only still around due to powerful corporate lobbys that have a vested interest in making us spend more [look at me getting off track])
But something came to Oklahoma in 2008 that made me pick my head up a bit and since 2009 has made us (I would like to think in some small way) synonymous with awesome. A force so wonderful it makes you forget about this asshole , or this asshole, this asshole or this asshole for a little bit (Seriously, the world would be a much a better place if they ended up on their mothers’ faces instead of their mothers’ uteri.) I’m not talking about OU football, or some giant Indian statue.
I’m talking about OKLAHOMA CITY THUNDER BASKETBALL MOTHERFUCKERS!
I’m talking about two-time league scoring leader-KEVIN DURANT.
All-star point guard, consummate badass-RUSSEL “FUCK YOU PAY ME” WESTBROOK.
The greatest facial hair in all of pro sports-JAMES HARDEN
The most fearsome African in the NBA-SERGE JONAS IBAKA NGOBILIA
The fiercest stare this side of a rabid tiger-KENDRICK PERKINS
And a supporting cast of determined and scrappy hard asses that WILL win a championship in five years.
While I always say I’m an Oklahoman with a small bit of pride, it swelled from December until May this year. This season was incredible, although cut short by a kraut (dirk), a geriatric (kidd) and their ego-maniacal ass hat of a part owner (Cuban).
Over the summer though, a dagger was thrust into my chest: the CBA expired and the players were locked out. Honestly, what I’ve read so far, it seems like this is worse deadlock than the NFL kerfuffle and probably won’t end anytime soon.
All I can say to David Stern is:
DON’T LET THIS CONTINUE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!
Have you ever been to Oklahoma? This is ALL WE HAVE. Yeah, whatever OU football, the state’s previous pro team, which thanks to assholes like this, still makes the state look pretty fucking retarded. Their biggest postseason victory in the last 6 years is beating an 8-5 Big East team. Come on! (Though, to be fair, search“Oklahoma” or “Oklahoma football” in Google images and it reveals some outstanding racks, try it.)
But seriously, this was the best thing this state has had going for it since the state repealed prohibition (In the late 40’s!).
Please David. An entire state needs this. 3+million inhabitants need you. End this. Take what the players want. Or fucking cut Sacramento and Indianapolis and New Orleans and other small, constantly underperforming markets some cities don’t need NBA teams. It’s just the truth.
Just don’t let this season get cancelled. Don’t let this season get shortened.
Let a disgruntled and oft disgusted Okie be proud of his state, his city. Let them play.
David, you gotta do this man. You and the owners, do what you have to do.
We need those sick nasty Westbrook to KD alley oops to feel alive.
We need that taste of $1 awful keg beers in Thunder Alley.
We need to see the expression on Serge Ibaka’s face when he smacks a ball out of the air like it was his red headed step kid telling him to go fuck himself.
We need to see that Kendrick Perkins’ death stare that can make your head do the Scanners thing if you look for too long.
We need more of this guy:
We need a good excuse to drink on weeknights.
We need to scream “OKC! OKC! OKC!” until our lungs ache.
We need our home to be known for its NBA rings and banners, not college sports and dickhead politicians.
I know this is a very early freakout. There’s still time to work out the labor issues, but seriously, I don’t know what I’m going to do if my last memories of the NBA for a while are Mark Cuban getting piss splashes all over the trophy or Dirk’s retarded caveman face grinning like he just shit his pants.
Lord knows I can’t start watching Oklahoma’s other professional basketball franchise, I still have some dignity.