Wednesday, January 23, 2013
The topic of conversation around this town has nothing to do
with the Seahawks for a change. Don’t
get me wrong, I’m a big fan and have had season tickets for eight years
now. And even though my parents back in
the 80s, and me and the wife now are invested in the Hawks, this is much
bigger. This is something wrapped up in
my history. Almost like a coming of age story; this is basketball.
The Seattle area has been without a professional basketball
team since 2008. We were robbed by an
Oklahoman dirt bag. I won’t resurrect the horrible details here. Let’s just say the Evil Empire’s founder, Howard
Schulz, owned and destroyed the team like it was a Tully’s coffee shop. The over-caffeinated douche bag tossed the
team aside just looking for an outside bidder to take the financial burden and non-core
business asset off his finely manicured hands. Jack wagon.
Now there are reports indicating that a deal has been struck
between a Seattle investment group and the Sacramento ownership family. Whether real or not and whether it happens or
not, there are many more hurdles to go and one has to keep realistic set of
expectations. But if it all works out,
there could be pro basketball in Seattle again.
The real deal is this, skateboarding and biking have always
satisfied a piece of my life that scratched the creative, inspirational, and adrenaline-fused itches of my life. But truth be
told, and my mother will attest to this, basketball was the one activity in and
out of school that was able to unwind my nerves and settle my soul like nothing
else. I don’t get to play much
anymore. Part of that’s due to being a
dad and having an unrelenting job of importance that places me under constant
demands. Or it’s because I get a lot of
email and have to do too many chores.
Whatever the reasons, I miss the sport..
I spent many days during my junior high and high school
years just shooting hoops when things were tight. When I went away to college, we had an
intramural team each season. We attended
every collegiate game, researched the other players, and vehemently heckled the
competition like no one else could.
Once, the Arizona Wildcats were in town. The team’s starting forward bio
said his favorite book was “Of Mice and Men.”
We created a huge cardboard cover of the book mocked up with his face on
it to mess with him during the game.
In between classes, I’d play pickup games in the gym or just
shoot hoops by myself or with the latest.
It was safer than alcohol or streaking.
And it was more fun than studying for differential equations or failing
Control Systems. Over summer breaks, I’d
pick up my brother and his friends from school and we’d organize pickup games
at the local elementary school. Each
team typically involved one young adult and three or four teenagers. I loved destroying the other young
adult. Those were some great
summers. My brother hated being on the
team opposite of me. He’d always lose
and get pissed off.
When I got out of college, the first few years were marked
with relationship oppression. It wasn’t
conducive to playing. I did play in a work
league for two seasons. But that
obligation came with much dismay from my hag of a girlfriend and as a team, we
weren’t very good. Although, the day she
kicked me out I was watching a Sonics game on a little 13” Sony Trinitron
TV. The constant through all of this was
my love for the game and the Sonics.
About two years out of college, I moved to L.A. for
employment. The great thing about that
company was a ton of the people who worked there were into the game. Eventually, we orchestrated a tournament
bracket and fielded some teams for competition.
If I recall correctly, our team of design engineers wasn’t all that
competitive.
Ultimately, I ‘signed’ with a team of manufacturing dudes
called the Outlaws. We used to play
twice a week at local Compton and Long Beach playgrounds. I was always told not to be at these places
after dark. We became local legends
because our chemistry. I earned the
nickname Slim, as in Slim Shady, due to my coiffed peroxide blonde hair and ‘dominating’
physique. We moved on to playing in a
city league in Bellflower. I think in
three seasons, we won two games. Ouch. We
just could never get our playground style to gel on the indoor court. Not to mention we all were ball hogs.
Since I’ve moved back to Washington, I’ve had the
opportunity to take Son #1 to the Hardwood Classic at Key Arena with the Cougs.
The Sonics moved in 2008 and we moved back in 2004 but we just never made time
to see them again before they left.
That’s what I miss. Not just the
game, but what it represented, and how it filled a very intimate piece of my
life. Basketball was my connection across
cultures, across emotions, across girlfriends, across miles, across loss,
across success, and was a perfect metaphor for life.
It’s something I hope I can share with my two boys
soon. I don’t care if they ever
play. But I want to share with them
something that became fabric of my existence.
They can learn about teamwork, precision, competition, rules and order, fitness,
and mascots that use trampolines to bounce 50 feet in the air, do a triple flip
and dunk a basketball during a timeout.
But seriously, sharing an event with your children such as this is
empowering and moment in time with your children that can’t be faked.
If we do get a team back in Seattle, it’ll be a level of
giddiness that I won’t be able to contain.
I can’t wait to take Son #1 and Son #2 to a game and heckle the shit out
of the Lakers.
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