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gaggle of friends whose ties are traced back to the same small town
in upstate NY. Photography, humor, music and good times abound.
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Thursday, January 22, 2004
New.....YORK?? Nets? Jersey takes another one to the balls.
My quick history as a Nets fan:
I saw Rony Sikely and the Miami Heat defeat the Nets some time in the 80's. I quivered as Stephon Marbury put up 50 (50!!) points against the Lakers and we still lost. I was skeptical for about 3 minutes when a blonde-haired, wife beating Jason Kidd came to NJ, and became the savior after 25 years of sucking. I watched as Shaq made poor Todd Macculluch his bitch. I laughed (and threw up a little in my throat) when Aaron Williams set a new NBA record by fouling out in 7 minutes. I cried as Tim Duncan did everything but sell popcorn as he dismantled the Nets in 6 games. I laughed, cried, laughed, cried and cried as we signed the "defensive specialist" Dikembe Mutombo, saw him get hurt for the whole season, signed the emotional leader Alonzo Mourning, saw him nearly die on the court, then watched Dikembe have a rennaissance across the river at the Garden. And now I watch as 5 starters try to take on every other team in the league, since our bench couldn't score with a drunk retarted girl at the prom. But all this, I can handle. I can handle it because it's basketball, it's sport, it is what we signed on for. Like Matty and Kev know all too well, when you sign on to be a fan of a particular team, you live and die by their accomplishments and their shortcomings, and then get all revved up again because "this could be the year."
But this, this, I can not handle.
Bruce Rat-ner, a wanna-be Donald Trump real estate developer, has apparently purchased the NJ Nets with the intention of moving the (finally competative) team to Brooklyn. Jay-Z is on board too, so you know it must be legit.
How do you root for your team when they are not your team anymore? They aren't even going to be allowed to be called the Nets anymore, much like the Cleveland Browns had to become the Baltimore Ravens. How does the greatest point guard in the league, who spent the off-season hemming and hawing about staying in Jersey or going to the Spurs, not demand to be traded when faced with uprooting his young family or an 1 1/2 hour commute across Staten Island? Forget it, I'd demand a trade too.
How do you displace the 1,400 people that currently live on the projected site of the arena, in the lovely (ahem) intersection of Flatbush and Atlantic Aves?
This sucks sucks sucks sucks sucks. Sure, more people will go. Sure, an arena people can actually get to via public transportation. But it's not the Nets. Let's face it, it's gunna be a new franchise, and those of us who have followed the Nets for so long are forgotten. In limbo. In three years, it will be "cool" to be a Nets (or whatever they are going to be called) fan, and I won't be able to afford a ticket.
I don't have an answer or a defense: the Nets have lost money for years- after 25 years of sucking, two great years can't win back an entire fan base. Add to that the relative Siberia in which our arena is located and you've got a recipe for apathy and 9,000 person attendance. So I can't blame the Nets management for grabbing the highest bid and running, but I can weepa little bit for my home, my history, and my team, all of which have died a little bit today.
And that, Brantley, is what happened.
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