Hi, my name is Angelo and I’m down on the NBA. Something horrible has happened to me since the Finals. In amongst all the talks about parity, small markets dying at the expense of big, overpaid and undertalented free agent signings, finger-pointing between owners and players, unsourced and annoying Chris Paul and Dwight Howard trade rumors, and accusations of league-wide fixing in the wake of the Chris Paul trade, I’ve become a bit jaded. Watching my Cavaliers take the floor for the first time since April on Friday night should have been a joyous occasion. Instead of kicking back and enjoying watching Kyrie Irving play for the first time, I found myself thinking of Dan Gilbert, emails in comic sans and Chris Broussard. It was a rough night.

I’ve been in a funk since. How can it be that when basketball is finally back that I’m finding myself so apathetic about it? Why am I finding myself longing for the lockout when I could just tune out all these annoying voices and storylines? And worse yet, why can I not watch this beautiful game without thinking about Bill Simmons’ constant calls for the contraction of my team because we’re not Boston or LA?

This has to stop. The season is starting in six short days and I need to exorcise these demons. I need to find something, a picture perhaps, that reminds me of why I used to love this game so much. A picture so pure, so untainted, that nothing, not Chris Broussard, not Bill Simmons, not even David Stern’s stupid fat face can ruin it. Let’s begin.

This should do it. It has everything I love in it. A young, talented point guard finishing at the rim, a packed house that’s on their feet and giving it their all, a teammate standing in disbelief. Yet, I feel nothing. All I can see is a small market team that’s soon going to have salary problems trying to resign all their amazing drafted talent. I’m seeing annoying pieces about “The Thunder Way” and pieces criticizing the Cavaliers for signing Larry Hughes and Donyell Marshall. Christ, I’m thinking about Larry Hughes and Donyell Marshall. This isn’t going to cut it. I’m going to have to keep going. Maybe someone whom I haven’t seen play yet can get my dead heart beating again.

There, a touching image of Jan Vesely making out with his girlfriend after being drafted by Washington. What’s not to like about this picture? It’s a tender moment of love, a man finally reaching his potential and making his dream come true. Instead, all I can think of is how that lanky bastard managed to find a tall, cute blonde to make out with whereas I’m still a bachelor. That’s a personal problem on my end though, so let’s just keep going.

Woah, Donyell Marshall again. This is different though. Somehow, the howling wolf helps me look past his terrible run on the Cavaliers and our doomed pursuit of over-priced “stretch-forwards”. However, it does make me think of the Timberwolves and, by extension, David Kahn. I’m now picturing a team that’s composed of nothing by PGs and PFs, Ricky Rubio’s stupid hair, J.J. Barea’s ridiculous new contract and Derrick Williams. Now I’m thinking of horrible columns chastising the Cavaliers for picking Kyrie Irving instead of Williams, how Williams was the most “NBA-ready” player in the draft and horrible proclamations of how this draft-class is one of the worst ever. And now I’m thinking of Jimmer fucking Fredette again. Time to keep moving forward.

Alright, I don’t know what the hell this is. Some sort of strange Kobe Bryant-squid hybrid. I can dig this, it’s kinda funny. Reminds me of my Sophomore year in College when I couldn’t sleep all that well and stayed up watching Animal Planet and surfing the Internet. Wait, dammit, there it is. Vanessa Bryant rumors on TMZ. Oh God, there’s a Kardashian. Disgruntled Lamar Odom. Chris Paul trade. Sad Eric Gordon. Happy Donald Sterling. Naked Sam Cassell in the shower. Sam Cassell period. 2008 Celtics. 2010 Celtics. Cavaliers collapse. LeBron. The Decision. 26 game losing streak. Ryan Hollins. Fuck you Kobe squid! Fuck you and your goddamn smug face! I’ll find something that puts me at peace even if it kills me in the process.

How could this possibly go wrong? Just the Knicks chilling on Sesame Street with Grover. I like Grover. He’s a chill bro. It is kind of sad though that Gallinari didn’t get to stick around long enough to meet Grover. Mozgov too, I could see him getting along with The Count. I guess Chauncy Billups could have swung by if he wanted to, but he was probably too pissed off to go because he got uprooted from home and dumped to the Knicks simply because Carmelo Anthony was “too good” to play on a small market team like the Nuggets. Isn’t Billups on the Clippers now with Chris Paul? Oh fuck, there’s happy Donald Sterling again. And now naked Chauncy Billups in a shower. Goddammit!

Wait, what’s that over there? Is that Dr. J chilling in a trashcan with Oscar the Grouch? So glad that dude got a championship, good guy. Wait a minute, didn’t it take Moses Malone to finally put the Sixers over the top and get Doc his ring? Wasn’t Moses Malone the league MVP in Houston prior to going to Philly? Reminds me of LeBron. Oh God, not again. Alright, fuck this shit. Obviously this is still some sort of lingering issue over the Decision, the Cavaliers crappy season and the thoroughly maddening media coverage of this whole ordeal. Maybe I just need to confront this issue head on? Maybe I need to look towards the Miami Heat to finally find some clarity and move on? Yes, that’s it. I have to confront the source of all this pent-up frustration head on to move forward and get in the mood for the upcoming season. Here goes nothing.

 

Perfect. Let’s get this shit underway.