Letter To The NBA

Now if you're as big a basketball fan as I am, you most likely feel the same way I do right now. Last night should've been opening night to what should've been an amazing NBA season. It should've been the night that young teams showed potential and promise with the Bulls beating the Mavs and the Thunder eeking it out against the Lakers. But it wasn't. The NBA is approaching its fourth month of being locked out. Games for the entire month of November have been cancelled and the entire season is under a huge threat of being cancelled if both sides don't come to a deal soon. If you want facts and probability of when and how this can be resolved, hit up ESPN. What I've decided to do is write a short letter to the NBA (not specifically to owners, players or David Stern, just in general) about a fan's perspective on this whole mess.

Dear NBA,

You have been in my life since birth. Literally. I was born in October 1990, the season in which the Chicago Bulls won their first ever championship. 1991, 1992, 1993. The Bulls were running the NBA. 1996, 1997, 1998. The Bulls were a dynasty. Everything in Chicago was about the Bulls. Weddings were planned around Bulls games. Dinner parties ended early so people would be able to go home and catch MJ destroy another team. Chicago Public Schools were filled with hundreds of thousands of children claiming Michael Jordan, Scottie Pippen and Dennis Rodman as their heroes. It was a great time to be living life. The glory days, I'd say.

Then came a rough patch for us Bulls fans. After Jordan retired, the balance of power shifted to the Western Conference. In the next 13 seasons, we saw the Spurs and Lakers dominate to win a total of 9 championships. The Bulls could not do anything right, drafting players like Eddy Curry and having a promising leader in Jay Williams end his basketball career off the court. The pieces were slowly falling together, however, as the Bulls started making better decisions in terms of scouting. Ben Gordon, Kirk Hinrich and John Salmons are some of the names that come to mind when we think of the Bulls finally making it back to the playoffs.

And then things really started to fall in place. In 2007, the Bulls selected Joakim Noah. Despite his injuries, one could go as far as saying that Noah is one of the best centers in the league. In 2008, the Bulls selected the reigning MVP in Derrick Rose. The hometown hero. The real Windy City Assassin. 2009 saw the drafting of Taj Gibson. Add the acquisitions Carlos Boozer, Kyle Korver and Ronnie Brewer to the mix, and you have the best record in the NBA for 2010-2011. While they failed to win a ring, they showed the world that the Bulls were back as an elite team. The 2011-2012 season would hopefully bring a few more final pieces for the Bulls. Pieces that would help the Bulls overcome obstacles like the Miami Heat, Los Angeles Lakers, or the Dallas Mavericks.

But instead of celebrating, I'm sitting here writing this letter. Because rich people are arguing about how much money they "deserve." Seriously, man? Remember how as kids we always dreamed about owning a basketball team of our own? A homie of mine and I always talk about how we're going to buy the Bulls as soon as we have the money. The primary reason for that isn't because we wanna make more money, it's because we wanted to show owners how to really put a team together. What happened to the desire in these owners? Are they all just greedy business owners with the sole concern of maximizing profit? While a 50/50 split in revenue between the players and owners might seem fair, I think it's more fair to make it a 52/48 split like the players want. After all, they're the ones that the fans are coming to see every night. They're the ones that put in work each and every day.

Enough of me taking sides.

All I want is some basketball. When it comes to millions of dollars, why does matter how much of the earnings are split? You're each getting millions anyway. Please stop being selfish for once and think about the millions of FANS that you're disappointing. Think about the little kids that won't have a D-Rose to make their hero. Think about the kids ballin in the hood without having a Kobe to imitate. Think about the fans in Chicago that won't have a chance to relive the glory days.

And if you could care less about any of that and only care about the money, think about how many millions you're losing as the season slips away.

Sincerely,
ChiTownGuevara
Your Average NBA Fan