[FW]: Baby Come Back
I had an incredibly happy dream last night. No, it didn’t have to do with cascading waterfalls, lush green forests, or even my future dapper husband. Nope. Last night I dreamt that the NBA Lockout was over. Yup, O-V-E-R; caput, finito. And let me tell you, it was quite the wonderful dream. I didn’t even realize I missed basketball this much until I woke up this morning disappointed, knowing that my dream was just that, a dream. So on this Wednesday, I fantasize that my worthless plea will bring the NBA back. Pitiful, I know.
I am a woman with a lot of pride. I don’t like begging, confrontation, and/or arguing. This is mostly because I don’t and never want to make a giant fool of myself. I run the risk of that image now, however. So here it goes: My very sad and begging request for my precious NBA to end its lockout.
In all honesty, I don’t care how you do it — big-market teams, small-market teams, players, owners, managers, everyone involved, whatever — but please please make whatever compromises and deals that need to be figured, sell your children if you have to, just resolve it and start the season. Seriously.
NBA, I didn’t think I needed you this badly. But in truth, I used to spend many an enjoyable weeknight and weekend watching you, coddling you, screaming obscenities at a screen because of you. It was fun. But why did it have to end. Well . . . I guess I kind of know why, but let’s not get into that here — money’s such a tricky business.
There are terrible things going on in this country right now — stocks are plunging, teeny-tiny earthquakes in the boonies, off-putting information about presidential candidates being leaked . . . I mean, it’s bad out there. We need you, NBA. Distract us, NBA.
There has to be an NBA season. I hate saying this as a Lakers fan, but yes, Kobe is declining. He’s getting older, more prone to injury, he has to play this season. Otherwise, yep, he’ll just get older; not really wiser and better, but just plain older. Also, there’s just so much more drama to come and see. I know I speak for a lot of people when I say that I’d love to see the Miami Heat go down once again. And who doesn’t want to see the reigning MVP D-Rose and the ascendent Chicago Bulls do their thing this season? There is so much action just waiting in the wings, and what? You’re arguing. Arguing! NBA, please just give it up and play basketball for my enjoyment. I mean, honestly.
I know what you’re saying, NBA. Sure, baseball’s season just ended and football is still going strong. And I really tried to be a baseball person. I really did. I mean, it is America’s pastime, right? But have you ever tried to watch a couple innings of baseball when you’re so used to watching the sprint-pace of basketball? It’s like being used to having high-speed, fiber optic internet and suddenly having to resort to dial-up, like we’re in freakin’ 1997 or something. And as a girl, I really can’t appreciate those uniforms. Please, please bring back my boys with the uniforms that showcase their very athletic arms and legs. I’d really love to see them every week, just like I did during those days gone by. I mean, I’m getting angry at this point.
You know what, NBA? I’ll even say this: I don’t care that you’re really not contributing anything to society. It’s the truth. Let’s be real here. In reality, all the NBA is is a bunch of ingrate douchebag players (I’m looking at you, ‘Bron) and incredibly greedy higher-ups who take taxpayers’ money to build monstrous arenas. You, you make conspicuous consumption (ie. crazy expensive sneakers, jerseys, etc.) a fad that all young people (even me . . . sometimes) want to emulate.
Aw geeze, I went too far, NBA. I’m sorry. I’m just upset. What I said above, it’s all OK. Just come back, baby, please.