Seattle Supersonics, 1967-2008. RIP.
I didn’t want to post or write anything about the Sonics possible, now inevitable, move to Oklahoma City until it was final. This was mostly because I was trying to remain optimistic by clinging to a tiny shred of hope that they wouldn’t leave. I realize that was delusional since the writing was on the wall in ten-foot letters for their departure about two years ago, when Clay Bennett bought the team.
Anyway, the Sonics were the only Seattle team that I had any true affection for. Being born in Chicago, my loyalties were firmly rooted in the White Sox and Bears for baseball and football, respectively, but my parents and I left for rural Washington before Michael Jordan and the Bulls ascended to dominance, thus leaving my fan-hood open.
I was an undeclared NBA fan until my Mom and Dad took me to my first NBA game when I was in fifth grade, in 1990. We sat, but mostly stood, in the very top row of the old, pre-renovations, Seattle Center Coliseum for a game between the Sonics and Lakers on a Sunday afternoon, for the final game of the regular season. I still vividly remember Magic Johnson making a running hook shot off the glass from the right elbow of the key with 1.3 seconds left, and the subsequent 18-foot airball by Michael Cage from the far baseline, giving the Sonics a one-point loss. I think Dale Ellis scored about 30 points, but Xavier McDaniel, who’d been my favorite player, had a terrible game, shooting about 7 of 20. A young Nate McMillan dished out ten assists. It was a fantastic game, and I was hooked.
Over the years my parents took me to a couple dozen more games, including at least six playoff games. My Dad and I saw an epic comeback in a deciding fifth game of the first round series against Utah in 1993, where the Sonics scored 30 points in the first half and then went on a scoring binge in the second half, scoring 70 to win, 100-92. That same postseason we saw an epic game seven against the Houston Rockets, where Ricky Pierce made a fadeaway jump shot to send the game to overtime, which the Sonics would win, advancing to the conference finals against Phoenix. This set the stage for, what is now, my second most-bitter memory of the Sonics. The Sonics stretched out the series against Phoenix to seven games, and on a Saturday afternoon, my Mom and I went up to the mall in Aberdeen to watch the second half of the game at the Sears store. This way, we could be at the front of the line at the Ticketmaster outlet when tickets to the finals were released fifteen minutes following a Sonics victory. Unfortunately, NBA commissioner David Stern ordered the officials to make sure that the NBA and NBC had a premiere opponent for Jordan and the Bulls, so Charles Barkley and the Suns shot a mind-boggling sixty-four free throws (compared to the thirty-two the Sonics had). The Sonics lost by about a dozen points, the Finals didn’t come to Seattle for another three years, and my Mom and I drove home, sans Finals tickets.
When I think about it, actually the second-most painful Sonics memory (to yesterday) is the loss to the Denver Nuggets in game five of the first round in 1994. My parents and I watched from nineteen rows behind the baseline as Dikembe Mutumbo raised up the ball with two hands following the final buzzer of that spirit-crushing loss. I think I felt sick for about a week afterwards, and I get flashbacks of it whenever the footage is replayed in historic montages which always graces segues and advertisements of playoffs coverage on television. Imagine reliving one of your most painful adolescent memories, maybe akin to getting dumped for the first time, multiple times at random intervals each spring. That’s approximately what seeing Mutumbo screaming triumphantly with his hands clenching the game ball towards the heavens is for me. Each spring I expect to see it, and it always surprises me how much it still stings.
We saw a lot of other games, including the first at the renovated Key Arena, where the Sonics debuted a horrendously redesigned uniform and logo, now thankfully forgotten except for the rare bumper-sticker on 1996 Chrysler Voyager minivans. Games in the Kingdome, also long gone, and the TacomaDome during the renovation year. Watching Dale Ellis’s long-range shooting, Xavier McDaniel’s anger management issues, Gary Payton’s defense, Derrick McKey’s rebounding, Sam “Big Smooth” Perkins’ calling out Sonics fans for their lackluster cheering in the second game of the ’93 playoffs (and our resounding reply for game five), Detlef Scremph’s outlets passes, and oh, yeah, Shawn Kemp’s ridiculous dunks are all memories that will always be inseparable from me.
Apparently to the NBA, these memories meant or were, at least, worth less than the opening of the 45th-largest media market in the country.
Anyway, the Supersonics encapsulated a lot of wonderful memories for me, my parents, and a lot of other basketball fans around here. True, the “history” of the team (colors, name, retired jerseys, etc.) gets to stay in case another team comes here, but it won’t be the same if that does happen, and I’m unsure of how I and many other Sonics fans would react if a hapless franchise like the Memphis Grizzlies came here.
If you caught the love of your life cheating with someone else, could you ever take them back? That’s the question that the NBA has put to Sonics fans. I think it’s a relationship which has probably been permanently destroyed. I doubt that I’ll move my allegiances down the road to the Portland Trailblazers, despite my affection for UW product Brandon Roy. The NBA, and much of basketball, is dead to me.
Actually, I’ll probably root for any team, even the Lakers, against whatever the Sonics are renamed as. But that’s about it. Another outcome of the Sonics leaving is I’ll probably pour more of myself into and unhealthy obsession with White Sox baseball. And I’m sure all Sonics fans will find other outlets for their time, energy and monies – Los Angeles didn’t disappear just because the NFL left there in the mid-late 90s. We’ll move on, and we’ll never be the same.
Finally, since this is a photo-blog, and not a sports-franchise-mourning blog, here are a few photos of fans and signs that I shot while attending the final Sonics game back in April, against the Dallas Mavericks.
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Goodbye, Seattle SuperSonics. Rest in Peace.
I was just wondering the Sonics are going to keep their logo and championships and stuff but are the OK city going to count your one championship as their own or start off new? Looking at the Lakers who were from Minnesota originally they do count the championships won in Minnesota other wise they wouldn’t have 14 total. Another question I have is if the Sonics get another team to move there will they just name that team the Sonics again? That would be strange I think so wouldn’t it better to start with a expansion team? I think the sonics should have just let their logo, name and championships go because many teams like the lakers, jazz, hornets, grizzlies, warriors took their logos from else where. And just start of new. Anyways, thank you great post.
I really hate Howard Schultz the MOST out of all of the villians in this situation. Just because Gary Payton didn’t want to hang out with him in the Hamptons, he pouted and had to sell the team (for a huge profit) to Clay, who although is one of the all-time douches, at least behaved predictably. What a punk. I should start a blog based on hating Howard Schultz and boycotting Starbucks, (which I am trying to do despite the fact that it is extremely difficult when that is the only place clients want to meet). At least I can try to continue to use the tables and bathroom without buying any overpriced crap. Take that Schultz! Right in the pocketbook! I miss Kevin Calabro already, although I’m moderately gaining interest in the MLS, so there you go.
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