Take Me to the Pilots

I spent several days in Seattle in the summer of 2006. In that short time I found it to be almost paradisaical with the uncharacteristically sun-drenched skies and temperate climate, walk-friendly neighborhoods, comprehensive public transportation, and headspinning culinary options. It was a big city that had a perfect arrangement of small comforts.

My boyfriend was with me as well, and if anything he fell harder. It was not a case of wish fulfillment, as all we initially expected of the place where coffee goes to be born was: rain, record stores, rain, java, java, Starbucks. (Contrast this with our carefully crafted mythology of Montreal as some fantastic French-toasted artistic haven, only to visit and find out it's really the Canadian version of Philadelphia.) Suddenly, seemingly everything and one connected to Seattle took on a fresh gleam of divine ineffability. As we were both already sports fans, it was only natural then that one of us--in this case, Patrick--would develop a despairing fondness for the teams from the Emerald City. For awhile there, it seemed like a hopeful flirtation; Ichiro breaking records for the Mariners, the Seahawks briefly showing up for Super Bowl XL, and well even the Sonics had to be some entertainment. Sometimes. Occasionally.

It speaks volumes to the affection one can feel for a city, and its denizens, when the mere threat of moving a team that's been playing there for 40 years arises. The whole situation seems unfair, especially when your mind blocks out harsh fiscal realities and considers the (equal?) importance of tradition and loyalty. When you throw in duplicitous team owners, well...

The revelation of "bad faith efforts" by Seattle Sonics ownership is not a new story, exactly, nor is it really a revelation. There was always a foul cloud misting over the efforts to locate a new arena for the team; they seemed as genuine and promising as the investigative tactics of Orenthal James Simpson. But regardless of how predictable the nomadic yen of avaricious maybe-fans with more expendable cash than most people will accumulate in a lifetime is, it still reeks. 40 years means nothing when the money pit of Oklahoma City calls! The brilliance of relocating a storied NBA franchise to a market insane over college football and squat-hell all else cannot be understated! I mean, not even Gary Bettman did that! Truly, David Stern is always one shit-step ahead of his li'l protege.

There exists the possibility that after the current lease has expired, and yeehawin-er pastures have been set out for, Seattle could still host an arena for pro hoops and hockey. Numerous parties have expressed interest, and many potential locales have been offered up. There are only two true consensus: the great expenditures of time and money any project will require; and the overall worthiness of the cause.

At the very least...bring the Metros back!

NBA Seattle Sonics