David Stern: O Dark Lord, Why Hast Thou Forsaken Me?
Please tell me why. I have been nothing but a loyal servant to you during my 25 years as NBA commissioner, per our deal.
I rigged the lottery back in 1985. I got those scary black guys to look presentable. I foisted Gary Bettman onto the NHL. I continue to torment Mark Cuban. I stole the SuperSonics from Seattle. I hired the most incompetent officials in pro sports. I even created the WNBA.
And all I've ever asked from you is one thing: Cavs vs. Lakers in the NBA Finals. Kobe vs. LeBron. It'd be a ratings bonanza! We've already started hyping it—haven't you seen our puppet commercials? Those are good!
And now you're going to ruin it for me! No one cares about Orlando, yet the Magic have a 3-1 lead. People are going to be disturbed watching a team coached by a Ron Jeremy lookalike. He doesn't even own any collared shirts!
And the Nuggets? Have you seen those guys? They make Travis Barker look subtle. I've spent my career trying to bring back our rich, white fans, and now we're asking them to cheer for a guy who has giant lips tatted on his neck? Hell, even their white guy is scary!
Please, I'm begging you—I need Kobe and LeBron in the finals. I've got advertisers to placate, TV networks to satisfy.
We've pulled off some crazy stuff before—let's do it one more time. I'll do whatever you want. I'll re-up my deal—hey, I'll even throw in saucy cheerleaders to sweeten the pot.
Your friend in NBA debauchery,
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