Dear Cleveland,
The great scholar, at least I view him as a scholar, Christopher Nolan once wrote, “there is no true despair without hope.” It’s a phrase our two fine cities know so well that it should be the slogan on the crest that represents yours and Phoenix’s sports fans.
We know about losing better than the producers of The Bachelorette know how to exploit the human desire for love and turn it into a game show for profit and ratings. It’s our shared heritage. A bond that has connected us for decades.
It’s also the reason I’ll be vehemently rooting against you in the NBA Finals. Sure, I realize the Warriors almost saw themselves die as the hero last series and are slowly becoming the villain. Sure, they’re a division rival of the Suns and yes, they broke our hearts by playing yo-yo with Steph Curry on draft night. I don’t care. Something larger is at stake.
The gravity of the situation is simple. While I empathize with your situation and your desire to taste the sweet rewards of hoisting the elusive Larry O’Brien trophy, I can’t simply stomach the idea of it coming to fruition because of the reality of what it means for my beloved city Phoenix. If LeBron James brings a title to C-town then the Valley of the Sun will inherit the mantle of most miserable sports city.
It’s one time we’d be very happy to stay the bridesmaid and never be the bride. We need that title about as much as we need another 115 degree day during the summer.
Misery loves company and we love that your company has been in the business of soul crushing defeat and producing at a higher volume than us. You have the fumble in the AFC Championship Game. We have whatever you want to call the cup check that Pittsburgh gave us in the Super Bowl. You have Jordan over Ehlo. We have Paxson over no one since Danny Ainge blew his assignment. You have no NBA titles since 1970. We have you outdone by two years. So you don’t have an NHL team? Well ours has treated arenas like college apartments threatening to move and being evicted more times than we can count. If it weren’t for the 2001 World Series, we’d already have taken the title from you.
But it’s not all bad. One of your teams was the main character in the best sports comedy ever, Major League. All we got is a romantic comedy where are team is a bit character that plays an ATM for Rod Tidwell. You have the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame near your venues. We have a tiny Hard Rock Cafe. Your lake once caught on fire. Our river bed was so dry that we had to build dams to fill a small part of it with water and claim it’s a lake.
So yes, I hope you lose because if you don’t, we’ll no longer understand true despair together and No. 1 will be the loneliest number for Phoenix.
Sincerely,
A Lifelong Phoenix Fan
