Yeah, I know Easter was months ago…
He who took a bite out of the Big Apple, worshiped at the alter of a false god, the idol of Jordan, proclaimed “The Greatest of All Time,” he who conspired with the serpent, the Black Mamba, and the powerful giant Shaquille, hath been laid low. It was Thee who professed of the sanctity of an unholy trinity, praying in the Egyptian house of worship, clinging to pyramids and triangles. Thy temple has been leveled by the army of Melo and Zingas! He who is unwilling to march in step with one’s troops is destined not to lead, but to serve.
“Zeke, my Zeke, why have you forsaken me?”
James cried out in agony. His desperate call was returned with silence, save for the sound of four and twenty million dollars slowly draining from his account. He had been betrayed by the gangly, multi-ringed Judas who had promised salvation, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men,” but instead delivered high round draft picks and talent to his enemies.
He exhaled; why was it so difficult to breath? It was more than he could bear after carrying the weight alone. He opened his belt and unbuttoned the top of his trousers.
“Sigh! That’s a little better. I shouldn’t have ordered the cheesecake after finishing the prime rib.” Jimmy shifted his weight and looked out his office window. The bread and Merlot weren’t sitting well with him either. He had shared his table while delivering the difficult words to his disciples.
Anthony, who was called Melo, was one of the twelve. He had witnessed the broken covenant, first between himself and Philip, and now, the final betrayal of James by Philip. If only he had honored the wishes of his beloved SaLaLaome who had called for the head of Philip. Instead, he himself had succumbed to temptation, his pride leading to isolation, adultery and missed baseline jumpers.
One by one they were taken down, bodies limp, their spirit drained. Fisher, Rambis, Noah, even the Rose could not mask the putrid stench of failure. The garden, this Mecca, would bear no fruit. Iscariot, the traitor, bereft of basketball wisdom had laid waste a once powerful kingdom. James had been blinded by the gold of the multi-ringed false prophet.
He remembered the words, “Before the cock crows, thou shalt deny me thrice.” This prophecy was realized as a 3-year record of 80-166, including the catastrophic 17-65 season in 2014-2015 A.D.. It was more than James could bear. He lowered his head and wept.
His tears became rain, then thunder, until behold, there was a great earthquake. The massive boulder that had obstructed his garden was thrown aside. James raised his eyes and beheld an image of hope. His countenance was like lightning and his raiment was of many colors.
“Isiah, is that you?” James’ vision was blurred by tears.
“Nah Jimmy, it’s me Clyde.”
“Clyde? Am I dead?”
“No man, just your team’s playoff chances. But, I’m here to tell you something…”
“What is it?” James face was as open and innocent as a child’s.
“Go forth quickly and tell your disciples, He is risen.”
Once again, James called out to his savior, “Isiah…Isiah?”
“What’s wrong with you Jimmy. I’m talkin’ about the Man?” Clyde slowly unrolled an ancient scroll. “These are the sacred words He hath passed through the chain of prophets. I will share them with thee now.”
Bounding and Astounding
Dancing and Prancing
Dishing and Swishing
Huffing and Stuffing
Hustling and Bustling
Movin’ and Grovin’
Out-muscling and Out-hustling
Posting and Toasting
Shaking and Baking
Slicing and Dicing
Spinning and Winning
Styling and Profiling
Swooping and Hooping
Wheeling and Dealing
“Follow and honor these tenets, and you will enter the kingdom.” Clyde rolled up the scroll. “Simple as that Jimmy. Spread the word. I’ll be watching you.”
James rose to his feet and wiped away years of tears, sand, and eye snot.
“Don’t worry Clyde, I won’t let them down this time.”
With that, hope was restored to the faithful. What would free agency bring? Did we dare dream of unseating the rule of the State of Gold?
If Summer league comes, can Fall be far behind?