Maybe they were bound to one another long before that fateful evening some nine years ago – an evening that, unbeknownst to many at the time, signaled the end of the Seattle Supersonics.
There was no naivety, however. Every fan in the building that night had an inkling the team could be moved in the offseason. But the prevailing thought was that they’d stick around, that the legal system, if nothing else, would bestow at least one more year of Sonics basketball unto Seattle.
Still, the audience took no chances.
In the waning moments of the season’s final contest, the capacity crowd began chanting “Save our Son-ics.” It was a murmur, at first. But then it grew, as all good chants seem to, spreading from section to section, filling the cheap seats and skyboxes alike, covering each crevice and corner inside Key Arena until every last basketball fan in the building spoke in unison.
At the epicenter, atop the hardwood floor that gave the room its heartbeat, there stood a young man, still a teenager, who heard every word the crowd shouted.
A special opportunity presents itself this week, as the KE crew gets first crack at reacting to Wednesday’s Softy vs. Geoff Baker interview on Sports Radio KJR. It’s exactly what you’d expect.
Before that, however, we get to steal from the Ian & Puck Show by playing a variation of the best segment on radio, Ask Adam. This time around, Producer Adam gets a legitimate shot at a tangible prize.
Plus, are Mariner fans really disloyal? Are the Golden State Warriors the best team of all-time? And is Kobe the most selfish basketball player ever?
All that and more on this week’s Karate Emergency!
I am a 28-year-old, sports-loving American male. And as such, I grew up watching a lot of TV. I realize those two things don’t necessarily go together. But ask any sports-loving American male contemporary of mine what he enjoys, and if he doesn’t say “TV,” he’s either a liar or a guy who wears full-body Under Armour out in public. We’ve all seen that guy. He grew up hitting stitched cowhide off a tee for hours on end under the watchful eye of his five-foot-six-inch father. The same father who couldn’t quite cut it as the backup second baseman on the junior college baseball team. The same father who made his kid do 500 pushups each night before bed. Wouldn’t you know it, that father turned his kid into a weirdo. And now that weirdo can’t seem to separate himself from moisture-wicking lycra. It’s a cruel world we live in.