Ok, he brought it up, so let's talk about it. If That Other Player in Miami ever, in a million years, ever came back to the Cavs—I would never, in a million years, ever root for him.
I'm the guy who openly admits he would root for a convicted animal rapist as long as he was wearing a Cleveland uniform. That's the job as a fan, to root for the laundry. Charles Manson just got signed as the Browns' punter? Awesome. Hope he does good. Dick Cheney is going to be the Indians' DH? Hope he drives in some runs!
But if No. 6 ever, in a million years, ever came back to play for Cleveland—hell, if he played for the F'ing Lake County Captains—I would refuse to support the team.
Yes, I said it. That's an occasion where hate trumps laundry. Would you root for Art Modell if he came back to be the president of the Browns? I mean, you'd root for the Browns, I guess, but you'd want Modell to get hit by a bus, right? Well, No. 6 would be playing for the Cavs. On the court. The only way for him to fail is for the team to fail. The conflict of interest is so great, I would honestly divorce from the team until he was gone. I'd never watch him play in our uniform again.
Never! F you, No. 6. You're a piece of shit. You may be joking about all of this and acting like it would be a cute story if you came back and played on our team some day, but it's not funny and it's not cute. It's F'ing disgusting. It makes me want to punch your throat even harder than I do now. And if I discussed how hard I already want to punch your throat with a physicist, I'd be told that it's A) impossible for me to ever punch that hard, and B) You can't disembowel someone from a punch to the throat. So, yeah, I'd want to punch you harder than THAT if you came back to the Cavs, you back-stabbing douchebag.
You just don't get it. You hated Cleveland when you were 5 years old, so you treat our fine city indifferently now. Well, how nice and myopic of you. Just another town to take your talents to, right? Wrong, you dumb shit! F you. Never once, in your professional life (which for us, started when you were 15) did we ever treat you less than a god. We loved you unconditionally. You could have murdered a room full of puppies when you were 16, but if you just stayed here in Cleveland and said you liked us, we wouldn't have cared. But guess what? You F'd us. And you couldn't have cared less. And you did it on F'ing national TV no less. So, if you ever do come back, it's not some sort of Disney fairy tale to us. It's an insult. It's an afterthought. It's you saying "F it, [No. 6] ain't got nothing better to do, so we're going back to Cleveland."
What's done is done. We shouldn't have loved you that much in the first place, and we know that now. You "hated" Cleveland because we stole your favorite stuffed animal when you were in kindergarten or something, and we know that now too. You never gave a shit about us. So, in turn, never, in a million years, ever will we love you again. Keep your talents in South Beach. Win titles. Or don't. Whatever. Just be sure to F off and stay out of Cleveland. That's all I want out of you for the next million or so years.
Go Cavs.
No comments:
Post a Comment