The Dilemma of a Seattle Sonics Fan in 2011

by Connor Witt

I generally try to refrain from being a resentful Seattle sports fan who cries about losing his pro basketball team to a bunch of conniving thieves parading as honest basketball owners Oklahoma City, but on Wednesday night TNT left me no choice. After Kevin Durant completed his superhuman fourth quarter to will OKC to a series-clinching victory, TNT displayed a graphic proclaiming that this was Oklahoma City's first playoff series win since 2005. Well, TNT - in case no one had informed you - the Oklahoma City Thunder franchise did not exist prior to 2008. Alright, that's just me being bitter. Of course I know the station was referring to the Seattle Sonics' 4-1 victory over Sacramento in the first round six years ago, but Oklahoma can't lay any claim to that series. I get it, I get it, it's technically the same franchise with shared records so TNT isn't "wrong" per se. But everything that has transpired throughout the whole relocation process gives Oklahoma City no right to call anything the Sonics accomplished their own. I believe that OKC owner Clay Bennett forfeited that right somewhere between promising to keep the team in Seattle, demanding the city build him a new arena on their dime, the now-infamous "I am a man possessed!" e-mail, and ruining 41 years of basketball tradition in Seattle. (The documentary "Sonicsgate: Requiem for a Team" provides much more detail on all the injustices that took place in the relocation saga. I recommend it.)

But the real problem for me at the moment isn't TNT running that particular graphic. It isn't even with Clay Bennett stealing my city's team, my team. The problem I'm facing is simpler: the Thunder are really really good, and I'm having trouble restraining my urge to become a fan.

In 2008, when Clay Bennett ripped the still-beating heart out of my chest and handed it to me in a fast-food takeout bag moved the Sonics to Oklahoma City, I vowed that I could never root for any team he owned. For the most part, I've been very true to my promise. It hasn't been so easy though. Now don't get me wrong here, I haven't gone soft, I haven't forgotten what happened to my city, and I don't despise Clay Bennett any less than I did in 2008. What's hard for me to ignore is that the guys going out there and dominating the Nuggets in the first round were my guys not so long ago.

Nick Collison was a fan favorite in Seattle. We respected his hustle on the court and his blandness off of it was endearing in an ironic sort of way. Seattle fans loved him like America loved McLovin in Superbad. Both filled the role of the charming goof, the guy whose skills were lacking but that you pulled for anyway. Rising stars Russell Westbrook and Serge Ibaka never donned the green and gold, but every time we see Westbrook's high-flying dunks or Ibaka's thunderous blocks Sonics diehards know that those are our 2008 number 4 and 24 picks out there (and no, I didn't have to look that up. It seems us Sonics fans aren't very forgetful about the past.)

And then there's Kevin Durant.

I was first amazed by Durant when I passed by him at a hotel restaurant in Spokane, Washington during the 2007 NCAA tournament. He was successfully taking a phone call in his left hand while texting one-handed on a Sidekick with his right. A Sidekick, that's a QWERTY keyboard! I should have known he was destined for NBA stardom at that very moment. In May '07 when the Sonics were awarded the second draft pick in the lottery I immediately grabbed a green sharpie and drew a #35 jersey onto a white shirt so I could be the first one representing Durant at school the next day. In Durant, we had the future of basketball playing in our backyard and we embraced him even though our '07-'08 team had little else to brag about. We may not have had many wins, but we had the second best thing, hope. Then the whole city had the proverbial rug yanked from beneath us and next thing we knew the Durantula was a Thunderclap, or Thunderbolt, or whatever the hell you call one individual member of the Thunder.

At first my loathing for Clay Bennett and bitterness toward the whole relocation debacle made it easy to resent the Thunder. I put aside the reverence I held for Durant & Co. and put full force behind scorning my former franchise. I made it through the first two seasons of Thunder basketball in that mindset without wavering. But something different happened this year; OKC rose from a team happy just to make the playoffs to a true contender in the West. Along the way they began playing an exciting brand of basketball characterized by Westbrook's speed in the open court, Ibaka's presence down low, Durant's elite scoring ability, and James Harden's awesome beard outside shooting. It became increasingly difficult for me to watch them play and fight off the urge to enjoy what I was witnessing. I watched Durant explode for 44 on Christmas Day and I caught myself sneaking guilty fist pumps after a dunk or clutch 3. Since the playoffs began, it's become even tougher on me. Durant is still the same guy whose handcrafted jersey I wore so proudly just three years ago, how can I be expected to deny his heroics just because I don't like the guy who cuts his paychecks?

(For such a simple game, basketball evokes my inner philosopher like few other things.)

Where was I? Oh, that's right, because the guy who cuts his checks screwed my city on a scale never before seen in professional sports and heisted the team that I had grown up worshiping. But as KD rained jumpers on the Nuggets in the fourth en route to 41 points Wednesday night, it made me wonder. How long will it take me to forgive the whole OKC franchise for their injustices against Seattle? At the moment I don't have the answer. Maybe when Bennett is no longer the owner, maybe when professional basketball returns to Seattle, maybe when Satan issues a formal press release stating that he has begun construction on a subdivision of the underworld made specially for Bennett and his ownership group. I don't know.

This is the dilemma of a Seattle Sonics fan in 2011.


Court Adjourned.

Forecast of Heat

by Connor Witt

July 8, 2010. 9PM Eastern. The Decision.

We all remember where we were when LeBron James so famously informed the world that he would be taking his talents to South Beach. To most, these words made LeBron a villain, a coward, and a traitor. But while the rest of the country was busy crucifying James for betraying his hometown, I was curious what the implications would be on the basketball court.

There was no shortage of theories. Jeff van Gundy insisted that this team would not lose twice in a row all season, and he predicted they would beat the regular season record of 72 wins. Others doubted the Heat, concerned that the egos of Chris Bosh, Dwyane Wade, and LeBron James would prevent the team from jelling. How will the team survive with two incredibly ball-dominant scorers in the same backcourt? Who would take the last shot? How will they win with no frontcourt depth? Before the Heat had even played a game together Miami’s Big Three were the hottest discussion in sports.

For me though, the Miami Heat were an opportunity. At age 19 currently, I was too young to fully appreciate the great NBA teams of the recent past. I never got to see the great Showtime Lakers or Bird’s Celtics. I was only seven when Jordan sunk what we thought was his final shot to beat the Jazz and complete the Bulls’ second three-peat. I remember the Lakers’ dynasty at the beginning of the 2000s, but was not old enough to really appreciate it from a basketball standpoint. But with LeBron’s decision, I had hope that I would finally be able to witness a truly great team that I could appreciate for their ability. It was as if LeBron was speaking directly to me when he made his projections for the Heat’s future upon his arrival in Miami. The Heat have shown flashes of greatness this season, but they will need to demonstrate greater urgency than they did in Sunday’s Game 4 if they want to both make their vision and my basketball fantasy come true.

Holy Crap What A Goal

Ok, so I am chided by friends for my love of hockey on a fairly regular basis. I know that in most cases this is purely a good-natured ribbing, but the overarching theme seems to be that hockey is a niche sport or that it's boring. Well with the playoffs underway for about 10 days now, it's been pretty damn exciting -- even more exciting than the fact that Ike Davis hit home runs on consecutive nights during passover.

Of the eight first-round series that have happened, only one of them has been resolved as of this morning, in a sweep as it were, but the other seven series have each been taught battles. Overtime -- and multiple-overtime games have abounded, both Washington and San Jose have completed amazing comebacks for the ages, Boston has rallied with two wins on the road to tie a series that looked lost, Buffalo is on the verge of upsetting Philadelphia -- a team tabbed by some to win it all -- after last night's thrilling road overtime win, the Blackhawks have suddenly sprung to life and are making life nervous for the No. 1 overall-seeded Canucks after a big win in Vancouver, and Nashville and Anaheim happen to be caught up in a spectacular series that just about no one is talking about.

Compare this with the NBA, and while I do rather like the NBA, most of my friends who mock my love for hockey do so in deference to hoops. And this year the excitement is no comparison. Sure, the NBA has had its exciting games -- Game 1 between Memphis and San Antonio comes to mind -- but three of four series in the Eastern Conference alone are one game away from being sweeps.

Ho-hum.

But this is not meant to antagonize or come off as pompous. I like the NBA. But after hearing from dozens (yeah, dozens) that hockey is boring, I can't help but point their collective attention to the absolutely bonkers goal that was scored by Bobby Ryan in last night's Game 5 between Anaheim and Nashville.

Yeah, that's right.

That's an intercepted pass, a breakaway against two defensemen with not just one, but two dangles and then a top shelf backhand to break a tie in a pivotal game. HO-LY CRAP. Seriously. Watch it again. And again and again and again. And lest you claim that the exploits of some po-dunk Canadian boy are of little interest to the standard American, Bobby Ryan, one of the most skilled young players in the League, is actually from New Jersey.



Yeah, he's from Cherry Hill, which is really Philly country -- and we all know how I feel about Philly -- but for the time being I'll take it. This type of skill is nuts, and brings back echoes of Mario Lemieux's wild nutmeg from the 1991 Stanley Cup Final.

And the best thing about the Stanley Cup playoffs? That goal looked like a demoralizing nail in the coffin for Nashville. Instead, the Predators knotted the score up with 35 seconds to go and then potted a winner early in overtime. The skill is outstanding, the drama is high, play is thrilling and the results are wholly unpredictable. Say what you will about name recognition or press coverage, but plays like these are amazing sights to behold. And if you're watching the Stanley Cup Playoffs, they're all around if you look.

Celtics in the Post-Perkins Era

By Connor Witt


It’s been the question that has run rampant in the minds of basketball enthusiasts since the February 24^th trade deadline. How would the Boston Celtics fare without Kendrick Perkins, their best interior defender and emotional leader? He was far from Boston’s best player, but according to the other players he was an important part of the team’s chemistry. There are two worthwhile analogies that could play out in the post-Perk era in Boston. Best case scenario: Kendrick Perkins is guitarist Hillel Slovak of the Red Hot Chili Peppers (minus the heroin). The Chili Peppers enjoyed considerable success with Slovak, but were still able to continue their success after his death with John Frusciante. (For the sake of the argument Paul Pierce is frontman Anthony Kiedis, Garnett is Flea, Ray Allen is Chad Smith, and Rondo is Josh Klinghoffer.) The grimmer alternative is that the Celtics go the way of the Backstreet Boys, who were tragically unable to recapture the success of 1999’s Millenium after Kevin Richardson’s departure from the group. Now that I have included the Backstreet Boys in a basketball column and hell has frozen over, let’s take a look at what the Celtics have displayed since the Perkins trade that sent them Jeff Green, Nenad Krstic, and a first round pick in 2012.

The numbers are undeniable. Pre-trade, the Celtics record stood at 40-14 and was good for first in the East. Since: 15-12. But this is basketball not math, and anything can happen in the playoffs. The rationale – or at least the hope – of Boston’s front office was that Jeff Green’s perimeter defense could keep Paul Pierce from defending the opponent’s most athletic wing scorer throughout the postseason (Carmelo, LeBron, Bryant, etc.) With the opening of the playoffs America got its first taste of the new-and-not-necessarily-improved Celtics in postseason form.

            Facing the Knicks in the first round was a dream come true for curious basketball fans like myself. The Knicks provide an intriguing test because they possess one of the NBA’s premier wing scorers in Carmelo Anthony and one of the league’s best post threats in Amar’e Stoudemire. General Manager Danny Ainge finally got to see if his latest move would rival the success of the Garnett/Allen acquisitions or be a disaster on par with Mark Blount’s six-year, $42 million contract. The Celtics were unimpressive in the first half, and it had me wondering whether this aging team is officially over the hump. Never was Perkins’ absence more glaring than when Amar’e Stoudemire completed a huge slam over Glen Davis with 34 seconds remaining in the second quarter.

In the second half the Celtics shut down Carmelo Anthony and were able to escape the game with a victory following some late-game heroics from Ray Allen. However, Jermaine O’Neal played out of his mind this game and his contribution will be crucial to Boston’s success in this series and throughout. So are the 2011 Celtics the Red Hot Chili Peppers or the Backstreet Boys? Perhaps Jermaine holds the answer.

Court Adjourned.