My Worst Nightmare: A Day In The Life Of A Clippers Fan
It isn’t easy rooting for the most pathetic team in NBA history. I can’t think of many things more trying on a person’s sanity.
Every day spent as a Clippers fan has the potential to blow up in your face. But how bad can it get? Until you experience one for yourself you’ll never quite know the agony.
This is a day in the life of a Clippers fan; my worst nightmare come to life.
7:15 a.m. – Wake up a bit disoriented from drinking too much after last night’s 2009 NBA Draft. The Clippers had the first overall pick (winning the draft lottery after finishing a dismal league worst 18-64) but somehow blew it by drafting Jon Brockman, 6-foot-7 forward out of Washington. It was strange seeing a zombie-like Mike Dunleavy faux-gush over his future un-athletic small forward. Strange because as team GM, Dunleavy pulled the string. Still it seemed odd – even for Dunleavy.
Something smells foul, like week old rotten eggs.
7:16 a.m. – Smash alarm clock with my Louisville Slugger to sleep off my nausea. Work just isn’t happening today. I’m calling in delusional and depressed.
Why do I have a baseball bat at bedside? Why don’t you?
11:30 a.m. – Stumble out of bed and into the bathroom. Brush teeth, gargle mouthwash and take a giant morning dump. Hey, I have to attempt to rid myself of the Clippers’ filth somehow.
Become bummed when it doesn’t work. The Sterling stench remains.
11:38 a.m. – Pour breakfast in giant glass popcorn bowl; Cocoa Pebbles, milk, coffee, orange juice and vanilla yogurt. All in the bowl. It doesn’t matter, I’m a Clippers fan.
11:45 a.m. – Plop on the couch, turn on 32-inch T.V. (it’s definitely not in HD) and crack open my lap-top. I briefly consider writing a blog, before deciding it would be a poor decision. I’d only rip my favorite basketball team, and no one wants to read that blog.
11:46 a.m. – Erin Andrews and Molly Sullivan tag team a news break on ESPN. It’s about the Clippers. I mute the TV, this can’t be worth hearing. But I’m still watching.
11:56 a.m. – Ten minutes later I finally realize I have been day dreaming the whole time. Erin Andrews is nowhere to be seen and as it turns out, Molly Sullivan doesn’t yet work for ESPN. The key word being yet.
Instead I’m stuck with Ric Bucher. I think he just rubbed himself. We didn’t need to see that.
To make matters worse, Bucher is ridiculing the Brockman pick.
I am so beside myself I can’t find my breakfast.
11:57 a.m. – I find my food. It’s lodged inside what is left of my old TV.
The down side? I can’t watch ESPN until I get a new TV. Oh, and I’m a furious Clippers fan.
The upside? I finally have the opportunity to join the masses and purchase something of the high def. caliber.
Will I have to change the website name?
12:15 p.m. – Get off the phone with my wife. Suffice to say, she isn’t as thrilled as I am at the whole “buying a new TV” notion.
She also was fairly ticked off at my day dream. Mmm… Molly Sullivan…
1:25 p.m. – Checked my voice mail – Fifteen messages from my boss. Wow. I have a serious Office Space thing going on here. – I call back and inform her it’s ‘National I Died A Little Inside Last Night Day’. She doesn’t get it. She thinks I’m sick. That will work. I am.
I’m a Clippers fan.
2:30 p.m. – Bought TV. It’s the first good thing that’s happened to me today. Spending $1,200? Not so great.
2:35 p.m. – Literally on the ground sobbing like a girl after dropping the TV while shoving it into the back of my truck and shattering the glorious HD screen that wasn’t to be.
Time to go back to the bank.
There is no way I’m calling my wife.
3:07 p.m. – Sitting in my truck as the Best Buy guys load the second new TV in for me. I turn on Fox Sports Radio. Steve Hartman and Chris Myers start yapping about how ridiculous (Check out all ten signs, but stare at No. 1 until you get it. It’s like the Magic eye posters. It takes a while to see the whole picture, but when you do it’s totally worth it.) Donald Sterling and the Clippers are.
I think I want to break my third TV today.
4:45 p.m. – Sit on church pew asking God why he made me a Clippers fan.
5:25 p.m. – Waited long enough for an answer, I didn’t get one. A seagull poops on me on the way out the door.
That was God’s answer.
He made me a Clippers fan to get pooped on.
It’s just too good to be true.
5:38 p.m. – Grab a double-double and a large neapolitan shake from In-n-Out. Nine Lakers fans point and giggle as I walk by with my bag of food. They are too embarrassed to actually heckle me.
I take the hint and stuff my LA windbreaker in the garbage. Apparently red and blue doesn’t fly with the purple and gold crowd. But I don’t blame them.
5:55 p.m. – Pretty sure I just spotted Ryan Seacrest walking on the beach in a Zach Randolph jersey. Is the apocalypse coming? Who can argue with a sign like that?
5:56 p.m. – After clothes-lining Seacrest and dumping my shake on his face, I find myself sprinting from the scene and his beefed up man friend… err… security guard.
6:13 p.m. – Car is towed for being too close to a fire hydrant. This day blows. Every day blows.
I’m a freaking Clippers fan.
8:05 p.m. – The wife picks me up. It’s freezing. And raining. I’m cold and wet.
That Clippers jacket would have come in handy right about now.
9:33 p.m. – Finally arrive home. Flip on the new TV and turn to ESPNEWS. Ric Bucher is back on. He’s talking about the Clippers.
Isiah Thomas just became the new GM.
I take a sip of soda…
WHAT THE #@$@#$?!?!?!? ISIAH THOMAS?!?!? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?
I’m literally yelling and screaming at the top of my lungs. My wife just fled out the door to avoid my tantrum. The rest of my apartment complex probably thinks some major domestic violence is going down. Normally I would care, right now I don’t.
9:35 p.m. –Yelled at Britton on the phone for two minutes before he hung up. I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t want to talk to a Clippers fan either.
Or Isaiah Thomas. What basketball mind (*note* I don’t think Sterling applies as a basketball mind) would so much as hold a conversation with Thomas?
If he even walked in the same restaurant I was sitting in, I’d toss some money on the table and walk out.
Likely channelling my inner Ronaldinho and booting him in the groin on the way out the door.
This can’t be happening.
I need a cold shower.
9:41 p.m. – In the shower. Still cursing. Donald Sterling just hired Lucifer. That makes him Satan.
Of course it does.
9:45 p.m. – Just finished the shower, walk out in a towel. L.A.P.D. officers burst in my living room and yank me outside.
Luckily the towel is still on.
At least it’s doing its job.
9:55 p.m. – After detaining me in hand cuffs outside my place, the cops agree to call my wife to ensure I’m telling the truth about living there sans the violence.
She somehow manages to tell the truth and save me any further embarrassment.
Did I mention all of my neighbors are outside staring at me in cuffs and a towel.
9:56 p.m. – Towel falls to the ground.
Of course it does.
It was a Clippers towel.
Nothing related to the Clippers ever works out.