Fear and Loathing at NBA City

I went down to the new NBA City at Target Center for the draft party. Since the Wolves haven’t had a lot of picks, it was the first draft I ever watched.

NBA City has 2-for-1s at Happy Hour, so instead of just one of the JLev/Rathouse Gang showing up, I got both! Then the bartender gave me 6 for 1, because the place was crazy and he wasn’t able to keep track.

Crazy was the operative word for the evening. Crazy by Gnarls Barkley came on right before the Wolves pick, and I knew things were going to get interesting. I like that song, and I hoped it was a good sign. When I hear Crazy, I think of the Me-Wolves for telling us about it, and now the T-wolves for their front office decisions.

NBA City kept trying to make the game like an NBA experience. There were cheerleaders, or dance teamers…then every time a commercial came on, they put the Wolves logo on the screen and switched to one of the songs you hear during time-outs during the game. I bet we’ll hear Crazy a lot at the NBA arenas this year. It will be the new Hey Ya.

Crunch kept pouring me tequila, then beer. Mad Dog was there, but he wouldn’t talk to me, which made me just want to drink more. If Mad Dog won’t be nice to you, then you must be the worst kind of asshole. He’s probably the nicest guy in the world.

Then somebody must’ve slipped me something, because the first letter of the Timberwolves’ draft pick kept switching around. The letters on the screen flickered, the logos and the hat colors kept changing. I cursed the graphics person in the truck who was playing with the ticker at the bottom of the screen. Roy then Foye, Foye, Roye. Make up your mind, graphics person!

David Stern looked very angry. There were groans heard all around the bar. Money changed hands, and I felt scolded.

“Why don’t I just take your draft pick away from you again,” Stern seemed to say. “You though you were getting Brandon Roy, but it’s really Randy Foye. Whatever, you want, McHale.”

Even though I feel that we could’ve used a guy who can play like Toy, the Wolves really loved Boye, and they got their man. And we are helpless. (Although, I did promise to throw a glass at the TV if the Wolves picked Reddick.) If the Wolves can turn Joye into someone I can love, a PG of the future, so much the better. (I also wonder if we will see a troubled Blazers small forward come back to Minny later? Hmmmm.)

Despite a few bad decisions, the Twolves and Blazers are both teams I like. And ultimately both teams got an Oy in the draft. And I hope I see them win a championship before the end times…because it sure feels like it these days. Isn’t that in the Old Testament too, an Oy for an Oy?

So now that I’ve seen my first draft, all you draft lovers out there, what am I supposed to do for the next bunch of months until we get to see these guys play? Watch baseball? Eat my own fist? Rewrite the moonball constitution?

I say, pour me another one Crunch, and I’ll sing the new BlazeWolf’s praises.

Ziggy socky…Ziggy socky…

Oy! Oy! Oy!