Witness
We are all witnesses.
Especially the past few days. I have done my best to keep silent but I cannot, in good conscience, let it go without saying anything.
Short of switching allegiance from the Kings to the team where The King once held court, I held you in high esteem, and considered you my last best hope. You were supposed to be the One King who could do what the Kings could not: topple the evil empire out West, even if at the expense of my team that never wins.
You never even made it that far, your dream matchup with your fellow shoe endorser never came to fruition. Simply put, your team never showed up for the dance. And all the while, the cold blooded snake won it all two out of three times.
I found your game refreshing, your brute strength indefatigable, and your vision uncanny. The game is yours for the taking, and although you always threaten to break new records every game, you seem more interested to display trick shots during shootarounds and take imaginary pictures of your teammates during huddles.
It’s obvious you like to win, but your brand image came first.
You were swagger personified. Backboards and defenses don’t mean anything to you. You once got pissed that a 5’9” guy won the dunk championship that you declared you’ll challenge for the crown next year.
But you didn’t. You mumbled something in your defense, but all we heard is that you can’t risk losing a dunk contest. After all, your brand image came first.
You were candid enough to tell everyone that the legend before you deserves utmost respect and that his number 23 should be retired across all teams. And you showed initiative by not using 23 anymore. But what did you get? A number that represented an even older, and equally legendary player. Why? Doesn’t he deserve the same respect from you?
Changing your old number to a number so you won't have to live up to the shadow of your predecessor? That's not homage. It's simply your brand image telling you to.
You were hometown hero, and while failing to deliver a promise of championship glory, you broke your city’s heart by announcing a divorce on live TV. That was callous. More snakelike than a mamba.
Nobody begrudged you on leaving for greener pastures. We all knew what was gonna happen, and while we blame ourselves for being in denial, it would have been nice if you had been a bit grateful and let the Cavs know before everybody else did. You could have said “It’s been a swell seven years, but I have to go somewhere else,” before the telecast to your old team, instead of a live, virtual “Fuck you, I’m outta here!!!”
You probably wanted to stay and fulfill your promise, but then again, you can’t endure more losing seasons before you get the ring.
Why? Losing hurts you. Instead of concentrating on winning with all your might, you let your brand image came first.
I really hope it works out for you. Maybe you’ll get your championship on the first try with your arrogant-as-hell superfriends. So what if it means lesser work for you? The ring is the thing. With championships come immortal fame…
And brand image.
That’s what you think.
We are all witnesses. To the fact that brand image is an illusion. It helped you transform from local hero to great baller to media darling to media whore and finally to douchebag. And you haven’t even won yet. Hell, you refer to yourself in the third person more than you think you do.
All in the name of brand image.
I'm not bitter. I'm just disappointed in your antics.
I’m not buying anything anymore that has your name or your likeness on it. I already asked that all my son’s clothing that bears your mug be separated and recycled as rags. Sports personalities aren’t role models, I know, but I don’t want my son growing up to think that it's ok to put brand image first before anything else.
Sure, I think you’ll win championships. I hope you do it sooner rather than later, before your new cronies realize how much physical emotional and psychological baggage your entourage is bringing every night. Before they realize that a ring with you isn’t worth it after all, especially since your recruiter won one already without your help. I'll make sure I'll cheer for every team that gets in your way. Including the Lakers, who i used to dislike more.
I hope you're happy. Somewhere along the way, a kid’s dream of playing the game he loves the most gets thrown out in favor of brand image. That will be your eternal contribution to the sport of basketball.
And I really hope Kevin Durant kicks your ass every chance he gets.
Especially the past few days. I have done my best to keep silent but I cannot, in good conscience, let it go without saying anything.
Short of switching allegiance from the Kings to the team where The King once held court, I held you in high esteem, and considered you my last best hope. You were supposed to be the One King who could do what the Kings could not: topple the evil empire out West, even if at the expense of my team that never wins.
You never even made it that far, your dream matchup with your fellow shoe endorser never came to fruition. Simply put, your team never showed up for the dance. And all the while, the cold blooded snake won it all two out of three times.
I found your game refreshing, your brute strength indefatigable, and your vision uncanny. The game is yours for the taking, and although you always threaten to break new records every game, you seem more interested to display trick shots during shootarounds and take imaginary pictures of your teammates during huddles.
It’s obvious you like to win, but your brand image came first.
You were swagger personified. Backboards and defenses don’t mean anything to you. You once got pissed that a 5’9” guy won the dunk championship that you declared you’ll challenge for the crown next year.
But you didn’t. You mumbled something in your defense, but all we heard is that you can’t risk losing a dunk contest. After all, your brand image came first.
You were candid enough to tell everyone that the legend before you deserves utmost respect and that his number 23 should be retired across all teams. And you showed initiative by not using 23 anymore. But what did you get? A number that represented an even older, and equally legendary player. Why? Doesn’t he deserve the same respect from you?
Changing your old number to a number so you won't have to live up to the shadow of your predecessor? That's not homage. It's simply your brand image telling you to.
You were hometown hero, and while failing to deliver a promise of championship glory, you broke your city’s heart by announcing a divorce on live TV. That was callous. More snakelike than a mamba.
Nobody begrudged you on leaving for greener pastures. We all knew what was gonna happen, and while we blame ourselves for being in denial, it would have been nice if you had been a bit grateful and let the Cavs know before everybody else did. You could have said “It’s been a swell seven years, but I have to go somewhere else,” before the telecast to your old team, instead of a live, virtual “Fuck you, I’m outta here!!!”
You probably wanted to stay and fulfill your promise, but then again, you can’t endure more losing seasons before you get the ring.
Why? Losing hurts you. Instead of concentrating on winning with all your might, you let your brand image came first.
I really hope it works out for you. Maybe you’ll get your championship on the first try with your arrogant-as-hell superfriends. So what if it means lesser work for you? The ring is the thing. With championships come immortal fame…
And brand image.
That’s what you think.
We are all witnesses. To the fact that brand image is an illusion. It helped you transform from local hero to great baller to media darling to media whore and finally to douchebag. And you haven’t even won yet. Hell, you refer to yourself in the third person more than you think you do.
All in the name of brand image.
I'm not bitter. I'm just disappointed in your antics.
I’m not buying anything anymore that has your name or your likeness on it. I already asked that all my son’s clothing that bears your mug be separated and recycled as rags. Sports personalities aren’t role models, I know, but I don’t want my son growing up to think that it's ok to put brand image first before anything else.
Sure, I think you’ll win championships. I hope you do it sooner rather than later, before your new cronies realize how much physical emotional and psychological baggage your entourage is bringing every night. Before they realize that a ring with you isn’t worth it after all, especially since your recruiter won one already without your help. I'll make sure I'll cheer for every team that gets in your way. Including the Lakers, who i used to dislike more.
I hope you're happy. Somewhere along the way, a kid’s dream of playing the game he loves the most gets thrown out in favor of brand image. That will be your eternal contribution to the sport of basketball.
And I really hope Kevin Durant kicks your ass every chance he gets.
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