| | | LOS ANGELES -- "I got home quick."
|  | | Darius Miles, right, will be great whenever he grasps the NBA game ... as long as Shawn Kemp doesn't eat him first. |
"Kevin Garnett is great."
"The pastrami sandwich was not totally bad."
"Some Asian girl balanced a dozen plates on her head while riding a unicycle at halftime."
What are four things you can say to try to prove you're not insane after admitting to someone you attended the Clippers game last night?
I could come up with more. But no answer will have anything to do with the prowess or success of the NBA team that took your hard-earned money, Los Angeles' knock-off NBA franchise. Its A&P Cola. It's JCPenney formalwear. The Los Angeles Clippers.
There is no poetry attached to the insult of being a Clips ticketholder. No badge of honor made of equal parts pluck, patience and dark humor. No ennobling homily about the future inheritances of the meek. Nor picaresque pleasure in the old barn or ballpark and its ghostly whispers. There are no legends at the Staples Center. At least none that play on the floor the Clippers roll out.
When you pay to see the Clippers, you've paid to see that 10-year-old kid who runs on and heaves a couple bricks at the backboard while the real players are down at the other end of the court for a few seconds.
The fact is, there is no justification for attending a Clippers game. Other than it is a good time to let your mind wander. To recall what the game used to be like when it was fledgling and played in Regiment Armories by people who lacked modern skills. What life in Colonial Williamsburg was like. Or maybe what it's like at a CBA game now in some city where the leisure time choices are limited and the entertainment expectations low.
The announcer is shouting like someone fired a howitzer into his gonads. Hey -- those kids have run onto the floor with big slingshots. They're firing T-shirts up into the stands. Look how high they get them to go. Maybe one will come to you. Should you reach your arm out? Do you want to have a free Clippers T-shirt? Do you want to be seen in one? What if you just wore it inside, around the house, maybe? But what if you accidentally spilled your beer reaching? Is a possible spilled beer worth the effort of getting to your feet and extending your arm for a free Clippers T-shirt?
It's the Clippers. Stay seated.
The Clippers will tell you, of course, that the team is worth it. That their players are young and exciting. A world of potential there for coach Alvin Gentry.
The truth is, the Clippers have yet to win a big game. Or make a great play, get a crucial rebound or even execute a pro entry pass into the paint.
The truth is, there is a red phone on owner Donald Sterling's desk. The moment the Clippers go up by 20 in any game, that phone rings and Sterling gets the news, and he instantly alerts personnel guru Elgin Baylor that something's gone wrong. There's also a red light on the ceiling in every team office. In the event the Clippers win their 20th game of any season, the light starts flashing and a siren goes off, and faxes are automatically dispatched to every other team in the league, inquiring whether there are any good Clippers they'd like to buy.
Cheap.
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There's a red light on the ceiling in every team office. In the event the Clippers win their 20th game of any season, the light starts flashing and a siren goes off, and faxes are automatically dispatched to every other team in the league, inquiring whether there are any good Clippers players they'd like to buy for cheap. |
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So we'll just take it as it is. On the chin. And unvarnished. We'll take the glum punishment and hope for nothing. Because we have been well-taught. The Clippers will keep it within 10 points in the first quarter. Maybe even at the half.
We'll avoid bringing any hot liquid to our lips when center Michael Olowokandi touches the ball, because he moves with all the grace of Trevor Berbick after Tyson hit him with that left. We'll watch a couple nice drives by Jeff McInnis. We'll enjoy Quentin Richardson's glances at the hoop because we know someday he'll be a monster, if only for another franchise, which is what that smile on his agent's face is all about.
And even though, unaccountably, we're down by 12 and retread Sean Rooks is firing up air balls, and Gentry's calling a timeout because nobody's playing any D, we'll pull for Lamar Odom. He can bring us back. He's our offensive machine, at least when he hasn't fouled out taping his ankles.
And look at Darius Miles getting us to within three. Darius will be good someday. In the year 2115. If the ozone layer holds out. Or Shawn Kemp doesn't get hungry during a game and pop pieces of Darius into his mouth.
How'd we get down by this much? We'd better start fouling. Maybe the other guys will miss 18 straight free throws and we can pull it out.
You wanna go?
"Some fat guy almost threw one in from halfcourt and won himself a brand new car."
"Two teams of teen-aged girls played their asses off during halftime."
"I got a parking space right by the lot exit."
"Some guy kept, like, a dozen basketballs spinning all at once during a timeout."
"It was the Lakers -- only they were the visiting team. Technically."
The Clippers. Proud. Never to be mentioned in the same sentence.
Roger Director, author of A Place to Fall, recently finished his second novel, The Crackerjack. He also is a season ticket holder for the Los Angeles Clippers.
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