*wanders out on front porch with cane, peers over glasses at Pistons and Spurs*
HEY!! Haven't I seen you kids around here before?
*waves cane, stomps back inside muttering about "damn kids... get off my lawn..."*
Dear San Antonio Spurs,
I don't know what the deal is. You're all the things I like in a team: hardworking players, fundamental basketball, loyal fans, no drama, and your players seem like nice guys to boot/ I like you. I've rooted for you every time you've been in the Finals. This time too. But I was still rooting for Phoenix to kick your ass. I guess I'm one of those shallow offense-loving types after all. Don't hold it against me too much, okay? You've got to admit you're not exactly the kings of excitement.
Dear Larry Brown,
Bitch, please. If I have to hear one more motherfuckin' word about "play the right way," I'm going to put a foot through my TV set. Then I'm going to road trip to Detroit or Cleveland or wherever the hell you're whoring yourself out now and personally kick your ass. Anyway, what part of "play the right way" leads to NCAA sanctions, anyway?
No love for the hypocrites,
Dear Darko Milicic,
Actually, I'm going to break with tradition here and not dogpile on you. I think Larry Brown's a schmuck for several reasons, but his ongoing public humiliation of you should be noted. I mean, it's gotta be rough being a laughingstock without even really deserving it. But he'll be gone in a couple of weeks and maybe Dumars will tell the next coach he has to play you.
Hang in there,
Dear Phil Jackson,
There is absolutely no good reason for you to go back to Kobe and the Lakers. You'd have to be insane to sign up for that rollercoaster of DRAHMA. Which is precisely why I'm hoping you'll do it. There is no such thing as too much Lakers DRAHMA.
Dear Jerry Buss,
No love for the crazy millionaires,
Dear Dan Gilbert,
Are you fucking high?! If you're purposely trying to drive LeBron out of town, please try to remember that he's still under contract for two more years. Unless what you really want is to trade him for Vince Carter and a pack of gum. Which would make about as much sense as anything else you've done in Cleveland.
Again, no love for the crazy millionaires, and I miss Gordon Gund,
Dear Steve Nash,
Don't feel bad. You shut up the haters in the playoffs and the Suns got some valuable playoff experience for next year. Sports Illustrated called you "possibly the nicest athlete in any sport." And when you not only took the reporter's question in Spanish, but answered it in near-perfect Spanish? Muy caliente!
Everlasting love and lust,