Written By: Alex Akita
First of all, I don’t give a damn about the Miami Heat. The Big Three, in particular, annoys me.
LeBron James? He’s an aloof weirdo incapable of normal social interaction. Sure, he’s athletically gifted. But ask him to tell you something honest and he’ll likely panic and jump out the window instead. You can’t trust a guy like that. When he said he was taking his talents to South Beach, he didn’t mention anything about interpersonal skills.
Chris Bosh? He looks like the spawn of Mike Epps and Jar-Jar Binks. Rooting for him is like rooting for Day-Day from the Friday movies. You know, assuming Day-Day was part-alien and referred to himself as “mee-suh.” Take a look at this description from Wikipedia and tell me it doesn’t perfectly detail Bosh: “His primary role was to provide comic relief, but many reacted negatively to his character upon his debut.” Yeah, that’s some info on Binks, but you wouldn’t know it. Could be Day-Day, too. Bosh is the love-child of a doofus from South Central L.A. and a Gungan from the planet Naboo.
Dwyane Wade is fine when he isn’t tied down by crazy chicks. It’s going to be tragic when he turns Gabrielle Union insane. If the dude plays like he did in the Eastern Conference Finals, that moment may be shortly upon us. Run, Gabrielle, run! Now’s your chance! I hear Norris Cole is free! And there’s nothing wrong with that guy. He’s about the only Heat player I can respect. Scoring 41 points for Cleveland State while sporting a Kid ‘n Play flattop? I’m down with that.
So yeah, I guess you could say the Miami Heat bug the crap out of me. Usually. But that’s all about to change.
You see, I might not like the Heat, but I certainly don’t hate them. The Oklahoma City Thunder, however? There is not a word in the English language yet invented that could capture how much I despise that entire franchise. Imagine if some jerk slept with your girlfriend, stole your car, and befriended all your buddies in the same freakin’ day. How much would you hate that guy? Multiply that by infinity. That’s how much I hate the Thunder.
And I’m certainly not alone in that twisted way of thinking. Everyone in the city of Seattle can back me up on this. The Thunder are the enemy. That’s just the way it is. If you don’t know why, allow me to tell you a little story.
Back in 2007, a cowardly billionaire by the name of Howard Schultz sold the Seattle Supersonics to a group of puppy-hating kitten-kickers led by a pair of bastards named Clayton Bennett and Aubrey McClendon. Schultz, who knew a thing or two about investing since he owned effing Starbucks sent his hometown up the river by relinquishing control of the organization to a coalition of Midwesterners who had every intention of moving the team to their hometown of Oklahoma City.
Bennett and McClendon weren’t simply going to take the team and bolt, however, oh no. Instead, they lied to Sonics fans, announcing they had every intention of keeping the club in the great State of Washington — when in fact that wasn’t the plan at all.
By the spring of 2008, it was readily apparent that the Okies were prepared to pull the team out of Seattle at all costs. No matter that fans were showing up for games, rallying to keep hope alive, and doing everything in their power to prevent a hijacking.
The Sonics’ final game as an active NBA franchise became especially emotional for Seattleites. One look at the atmosphere as the ’07-’08 campaign came to its conclusion would indicate this move wasn’t borne out of fan apathy (though the current owners and fan base of the Thunder would like you to believe otherwise). There was anger, bitterness, sadness, and disappointment among the citizens of Seattle, who had supported the Sonics for 41 proud years.
With so many culprits to point fingers at, and so many parties to share blame over the relocation, a group of filmmakers went to work chronicling the entire mess. The result of their efforts was an award-winning documentary called Sonicsgate, which will be re-aired on CNBC at 9:00 p.m. this Friday. I encourage anyone with any interest in the NBA to watch.
It has been four years since the Sonics left to become the Thunder. In that span, Seattleities have had to grit their teeth and pay witness to the rise of one of the best teams in the league. It hasn’t been easy. Watching as Oklahoma City secured its first Finals berth just a few short days ago was the salt in a wound that still has yet to heal. Which is how we’ve gotten to this point with the Heat.
There is a bandwagon movement across the nation. And perhaps surprisingly, it favors Miami.
Three-thousand miles from South Florida, the Pacific Northwest has claimed a team we once shrugged our shoulders over. We might not be anywhere near the Heat’s biggest fans, both geographically and in spirit, and frankly, we’re not trying to be. But what Miami now has the opportunity to do is give some solace to a fan base that supports past memories and a future filled with hope. We don’t want you to just beat the Thunder. By all means, please feel free to destroy them.
I didn’t used to give a damn about the Miami Heat. LeBron? He’s still a bit of a weirdo. Bosh? He’s still goofy looking. D-Wade? He still might have a penchant for crazy chicks. But for the love of God, here’s hoping that trio can come together and conquer a villain we’ve all learned to revile.
For the next seven games, at least, we are all Heat fans.