The stages a fan’s psyche goes through in free agency feel like they’re twenty fold. This is especially the case when a lot of people who have a lot of things to say continue to say that your team needs to do something in free agency. I wake up in the middle of the night and grab my phone and scroll through Twitter searching for bombs. Then you see something about Jason Smith, realize nothing has really happened, and go back to bed, only to wake up in the morning and do the same thing all over again. “Load more tweets”, you click, till you get to the one you saw last night before you knocked off. The one of your friend posting his music video for the 30th time. Keep your hustle hard.
NBA free agency has become some historic kind of tease for fan bases whose teams need some help. Rumors upon speculation upon people Googling the schedules of owner’s private jets. I wasn’t in the room with Riley and LeBron but somehow I can know what was said because Woj has inserted himself into the bloodstream of every important person in the league and he has ears and eyes like hawks juiced up on that cream stuff Bonds used to use.
When the Thunder signed Morrow I sat at my desk and read how good a signing it was and pumped my fist and sat back and waited for vague Presti quotes about character and commitment and people embodying ideals. Morrow can light it up to the tune of 43% from 3 for his career. Those numbers are happy numbers. They make a Thunder fan very excited about what Morrow could do on the floor when Westbrook and Durant are getting into the lane. Here’s all the open threes you want, Anthony. Please make half of them and we’ll crown you a hero and I’ll take you to Ted’s. But really, whether he plays amazing basketball, or just okay, it’ll be important to always remember that anyone is going to be better than Fisher.
Gasol’s hang-up on Oklahoma City’s lack of cultural excitement is a bit of a blow, if only because, despite the city continuing to boom for some time, it would appear it hasn’t been booming in the ways that would interest a guy like Gasol, a man who genuinely enjoys going to the opera. Gasol probably can do without a Coyote Ugly.
If Gasol is even 80% of what he was before the injuries and the D’Antoni disasters, then there will be many nights when we’re watching him and the rest of the Fighting Thibodeaus torture a (still) ragged and pathetic Eastern conference and the many gross and disgusting games of “What If?” will begin to be played all throughout the heartland. That crunch time lineup of Durant-Westbrook-Reggie-Gasol-Ibaka would’ve been a murderous one, in theory, and since we’ll never actually get to see it, it’ll live on in theory. Durant and Westbrook on the floor with someone you could throw the ball to in the post who could actually demand a double is something that I’ve convinced myself will never happen because the world is a cold, cruel place that only wants blood.
Mitch McGary is smooth and plays with all the awareness of Madden Peyton Manning during that year when they had field vision as one of the game features. Watching those Orlando summer league games of his where he gets a rebound and shotguns it on the break himself has me jonesing for lineups with him at the four and Ibaka or Adams at the five. Lineups where everyone on the court can move like they haven’t had 87 knee surgeries. He probably won’t get many minutes this year — the frontline is already loaded (I realize I’m saying this one section after talking about how big it would be to get Pau, still) — but McGary has things that others don’t. He’s got a feel to him.
I am fully on board the McGary Bandwagon. There is lots of room on here and, while I appreciate the spaciousness, I’d love for you to join me. We’ve got tons of snacks — TONS OF SNACKS — and we’ve got great music. Sturgill Simpson, mainly. But there’s some Willie Nelson. He’s actually on the bandwagon with us. He and Mitch are kindred souls. They have matching shirts that say “Roll Me Up And Smoke Me When I Die.”