Those of you who read Microkhan’s debut post know that management reserves the right to veer away from estoerica on occasion, and delve into topics of a far more personal nature. Well, this is one of those times. Read on if you’d like a brief peek inside Microkhan’s troubled heart; otherwise, fear not, the polymathism will continue shortly.
Last night, Microkhan’s beloved Los Angeles Clippers ended the NBA season in typical fashion—by getting absolutely shellacked. After slogging through yet another sub-20-win season, it’s tough to believe we had such high hopes for this squad last summer. When Baron Davis signed, all seemed promising for a microsecond. But then Elton Brand departed, thanks in large part to coach/GM Mike Dunleavy’s political bungling. It was all downhill from there, save for rookie Eric Gordon’s impressive campaign.
So, as we sift through the wreckage of the umpteenth failed Clippers season, Microkhan must ask the stock annual question: Why do we continue to support such a hopeless, hopeless team? Why must we start each day by scanning the box scores, only to be terribly disappointed three times out of four? Do we really need the aggravation?
You might say that Clippers fans are kindred spirits with supporters of the Chicago Cubs, another franchise known for its futility. But the comparison isn’t quite apt. Cubs fans not only enjoy a sense of community, they enjoy a sense of eternal hope—spurred in large part by the fact that, at least on occasion, expectations have been high. But I rarely come across another Clippers fan here in New York, so there is no community to speak of (save for the virtual one I’ve found at ClipperBlog). And to my knowledge, no one has ever picked the Clippers to achieve anything grander than simply making the playoffs (something they seem to do approximately once a decade).
So for about the 20th year in a row, I’m tempted to trash my Clippers gear and start over with another team. But I know this sensation will pass, and I’ll be right back there with the Worst Franchise in Sports History next year. Maybe that says something rather deep about Microkhan’s personality—that we’re drawn to lost causes and hopeless cases, and find some sort of beauty in the misery. But there’s also a part of the human psyche that retches at the thought of betrayal, however logical that betrayal might be. Yes, the revulsion we feel at becoming fair-weather fans could very well be part of the caveman brain that got our species through Paleolithic. I mean, I’m sure many a fur-clad Homo sapiens was tempted to abandon his clan when food was scarce. But gosh darnnit, what sort of evolutionary strategy is that? And so our forefathers’ anti-betrayal instincts kicked in, and everyone went mammoth hunting.
And so though things look typically grim in Clippersland, Microkhan still looks forward to Opening Day this fall. Yes, there will be wretchedness. But I’ll sleep better knowing that I never abandoned my first love during its eternal night.
And, of course, if by some miracle the Clippers ever do get past the second round of the playoffs, Microkhan is gonna go buckwild in celebration. We’re totally gonna buy and drink this.