Birth in the Shambles
Counterpoint to yesterday's angst, or maybe its underlying assumption. As much as this site fixates on off-beat, incomplete, troubled, or fantastic players, there's a far more basic theme. The reason I'm with the NBA—and why the "I Love This Game" motto should've been kept—is that sometimes, this sport just plain makes me happy to be alive. Fills up my head with pure joy. Etc.
That's the real reason I jock the players I do. When they're on, they not only make things happen on the court—in some small way, they make the world a better place. Insofar as myself and those like me are a part of the world, and our days, however briefly, are brightened by them. Certainly that's got to count for something.
See Brick, there's your "fifth-grade NBA opinions voiced as revolutionary manifestos." Craft is cool and everything, but I wouldn't care about outcomes if the game didn't unfold in this way. That's backward, I know, and yet I think it allows for a more rewarding—if more demanding—relationship with this ho-hum moneymaking, rafter-draping enterprise.