As I type this, I am an hour away from my fantasy basketball draft (where I am the defeding champ!) and we are 24 hours away from the opening tip of the NBA season.  Even if the Redskins were 2-6 or 0-8 instead of 6-2, I would be normally be fired up like a blowtorch. Basketball stirs something in my soul that none of the other sports that I fanatically follow do. But not this year.

It's a little late and everyone's beat this horse to death, but I am sitting here asking why? Why must the basketball fates deal this hand to us over and over again. We know the injury litany and I won't repeat it. But dammit it's not fair (I know I sound like a 7-year-old on this, just gimme a break).  Lord we've been through it as Bullets fans and we've been loyal. Fat players, lazy players, players too tall, too short, too skinny, a player that have wrecked his career because of stupid movie (i.e. http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0120765/), players that liked the nightlife too much, players that flashed like a comet and then disappeared. And of course all the bumbling and stumbling in the front office.

Now basketball fates you finally hand us a good team and even let us have a magical spring with wonderful memories that foster hopes of great times to come. But do you let us have them, do you give us, the long-suffering Bullets' fan a day in the sun, a chance to shine. A deep playoff run that reminds the world what a great and important basketball town Washington, D.C. is. What a great basketball tapestry we have.

NO! Of course not! And it hurts. All this disappointment takes my blowtorch and reduces it to a flickering spark. Oh I will always be excited for the new season because there are always interesting teams and interesting players (Oden, Bynum, Rose chief among them for me). But I want to be excited for my team too. 

This team has wrung some grief, lots of embarassment and indescribable moments of joy out of me since my grandparents took me to my first game in 1986. All I ask you, oh imponderable basketball fates, is to give me one glorious run to the Finals, winning them would be immaterial. Just give me and our city a chance to jump, scream, dance, hug and cry our way into late June. Just once. Please!!!! I am begging you!