Hoopless in Seattle

The floral emblem of Oklahoma, mistletoe, appropriately signals the Sonics’ kiss-off from Seattle. In a deal that has caused both puckering and pursing—depending in which state you hang your Sonics hat—the team’s selling maybe shouldn’t have surprised. But it’s definitely breaking hearts. At least mine.

Oklahoma Investment group, The Professional Basketball Club LLC, are the proud new owners of my basketball club and once again, it seems, I’m forced to pack up on my team and hit the highway in search of a new allegiance.

You see, I’ve experienced this kind of eviction before. It was after the Los Angeles Lakers abandoned The Forum for The Staples Center; Laker basketball died for me that day. With a new mega-sized arena, a less team-orientated playing style and superstars that would never replace Magic and Big Game, I stuffed my duffle full and headed north for the Emerald City—emotionally that is.

The Pacific Northwest—an uncharted land in my sports world—where potential appeared more vital than potency. The Sonics hadn’t won since ’79, but what did I care? This was a fresh start, and with a team I felt better suited to. I’d outgrown the big Laker market, and more poignantly, I believe the Lakers had outgrown me. How could someone from the “Hip to be Square”/ Who’s the Boss generation possibly support a team more akin to a Melrose Place episode? It just didn’t feel right. So I gave the “it’s not you—it’s me” line, and left my heart not far from San Francisco.

I’ve bled green and gold for a few years now, leapt from my seat every time Kevin Calabro’s voice exploded through the radio, cheered whenever Ray Allen lobbed a perfect rainbow over three defenders, and pumped my fists when Rashard Lewis launched for a booming dunk. Yes, despite the many losses, it’s been a good time.

But as Seattle’s favorite sons, Pearl Jam, once cried, “They’re leaving here” or so most NBA experts are assuming. Too bad really—maybe Ray, Lew and Luke could have built something special at Key Arena; something to validate my decision to cheer for the Supes. Not to be, I suppose.

Of course, I’m not the first fan hurt by pro sports’ penchant for comings and goings. How about the old Brooklyn faithful, forced to watch their Dodgers as west coasters? Or Expos supporters, losing their club after 35 years to D.C.? Or worse, Oakland fans who dealt with their football team moonlighting in LA for more than a decade. These traumas aren’t covered in the fan’s manual. There’s no anonymous support group. There’s no prescription drug. As a fan, you just suck it up.

So now the search for my new team begins. Not that I have anything against Oklahoma City, you understand. Just that when you invest your soul into one town, that relationship can’t continue in a healthy manner elsewhere—can it? It’s kind of like the best friend you had as an eight year-old, the one who lived two doors down. You played with him after school, rode your bikes around the street on weekends. You were the first one to receive an invite to his birthday party; the first one to stick up for him against a bully. Then, without warning, his parents up and moved the family intestate. The relationship suddenly ended with a handshake and a hug—the kiss-off, if you will.

The worst part is looking for a new best friend. Will they like your style of play? Will they share your sense of fun? Will they be someone you can trust? Hard to hang onto such relationships these days, just ask the folks in Hartford.

Deep down, I’m sure Howard Schultz didn’t want to let go either. I’m sure he suffered a lengthy deliberation—over a couple of Colombia Nariño Supremos—and decided he was investing more than he was getting back. Sometimes you have to act on instinct, like Gary Payton’s famous behind-the-head alley-oop to the Rain Man. I understand. Just don’t expect me to sleep well.

The Sonics could be a better team in Oklahoma City but most Seattle fans will find it difficult to care. Like me, they’ll feign some interest for a while, maybe catch a few highlights, and even buy a jersey if the team ends up winning. But it won’t be the same. It’s a “long distance”, and everyone knows they never work out.

Nope, for us Sonics fans, it may be time to move on. Portland still has a squad, right? They’re players always seem to make headlines, even if not for amazing basketball feats. There are always the Bay area’s Warriors, farther south. Though I can’t say I like the latest club logo—it looks like a billboard for a tire store.

Maybe a break from basketball is best. Yep, that’s what I’ll tell myself. Plenty of other interests to pursue…fishing…hiking….tennis…

Is Frasier still taking calls?