Along the same lines, plenty of invective can be directed at that empty suit of a mayor, shithead Greg Nickels. This gutless wonder would probably get his ass kicked by Glass Joe of Mike Tyson's Punch Out fame. We had the very real possibility of getting a federal judge to throw the brakes on Clay Bennett moving the Sonics out of town and instead, Nickels takes the money and sells 41 years of memories for the same amount of money Seattle wastes putting in bike lanes.
Speaking of mayors, Kevin Johnson can't avoid the ire of this scribe. This condescending, sanctimonious son of a bitch goes on Twitter yesterday to say what a great effort Seattle gave, how great our fans are, yadda, yadda, yadda. Never mind that this same two-faced assgoblin tried to use the supposed lack of fan support from Seattle as the reason to keep the Kings in Sacramento. KJ has now been a part of the 2 biggest screw jobs this town ever had. Game 7 of the 1993 Western Conference Finals and now this. Anyone out there good at making voodoo dolls? I've got plenty of sharp objects just looking for a home.
But let's go back a little bit further with the next steaming pile of dog shit I want to hurl. The ownership group, led by that turn coat motherfucker Howard Schultz, who sold the Sonics in the first place will always remain at the top of any list of people to blame for our current pain. Now, I want to be clear though. Not everyone of those 18,374 owners (or however many there actually were) wanted to sell. Notably, Wally Walker was leading the charge not to sell. Say what you will about his horrendous GM skills, at least he was one guy on the inside that actually cared about this city and its fans. But Schultz and his cronies? May one of those Charbucks roasters explode as you're taking a tour. I'm sorry that you weren't getting a 15% return every year. Pro sports doesn't work that way. Oh, Gary Payton was a pain in the ass and that led you to become disillusioned? Maybe we look at that as a way to improve our people skills, hmmm? I know in your other world you're used to people cowering at the sound of your voice and sticking their nose up your ass since you figured out how to make people pay $5 for a cup of coffee. But guess what? Seattle paid $5 first, allowing you to charge the rest of the world $5, and you repaid us with a golden shower that smelled a little like Christmas Blend.
Next in my sights, that cockgobbler Clay Bennett. This piece of human debris wormed his way into being chairman of the Relocation Committee. Granted, after the underhanded snow job he pulled up here, he knows a thing about relocation. One might think that after the way he treated Seattle, he'd be a little more empathetic and would be willing to do what he could to help Seattle get a team back. But no, this soulless bastard takes his marching orders from that Napoleon David Stern and probably strong armed all the members of the committee to vote no. I can't imagine that without the intimidation factor that it would still be a unanimous vote to keep the team in Sacramento.
Finally, with this current sucker punch to all Sonics fans, I reserve the majority of my loathing for that smarmy piece of shit David Stern. This douche nozzle goes around telling everyone that whoever had the better arena plan would ultimately win. Remind me again of Sacramento's arena plan. Oh, you're going to put it in an area where you don't own the land? You're going to pay for it through parking revenue??!! Yeah, that's a lot better than an arena where the land's already purchased and you already have financial backing from the local municipality. Chris Hansen, Steve Ballmer, et. al, did absolutely everything the NBA asked for. To then not allow the Kings to move here proves the one thing I always feared since this process started. The NBA is using Seattle like the NFL is using Los Angeles. Seattle's only important to the NBA in that it can be used as a sledgehammer to get other cities to bend over and take it up the ass in the hopes that they get to keep their team. It's one thing to be used, you're in on it, and you like it (like Jim in the first American Pie). But when the city being used calls your bluff and you just flip the table over? That deserves a castration with a rusty, dull scalpel. Ultimately, I think Chevy Chase sums it up best:
"Hey! If any of you are looking for any last-minute gift ideas for me, I have one. I'd like David Stern, that Napoleon wannabe, right here tonight. I want him brought from his happy office orgy over there in Secaucus, New Jersey with all the other rich people and I want him brought right here, with a big ribbon on his head, and I want to look him straight in the eye and I want to tell him what a cheap, lying, no-good, rotten, four-flushing, low-life, snake-licking, dirt-eating, inbred, overstuffed, ignorant, blood-sucking, dog-kissing, brainless, dickless, hopeless, heartless, fat-ass, bug-eyed, stiff-legged, spotty-lipped, worm-headed sack of monkey shit he is! Hallelujah! Holy shit! Where's the Tylenol?"