Did anyone ever know someone just going through the motions of a dead end job, tired eyes and with little hope for a better future?
Not absolutely horrible at what they do, but what they do is a far cry from meaningful on any level to anyone. It's the worst place to be in a career—you're at the back end of the company and there really isn't anything for you to offer to get a nice promotion and entry to greener pastures.
Just a purgatory of unfulfillment.
If this were a pompous independent movie, this person would commit suicide. This person is the Toronto Raptors and they need to make a Sundance film out of their situation. You could say, they need to Juno themselves.
No, that didn't make sense (by way of me not knowing many independent films), but let's continue like it did.
Earlier in the year, ESPN's Ryen Russillo, the one with the annoying 'e' because his parents were either bad spellers or drunk, declared the Raptors had the very worst roster in the league.
After my initial fan-rage subsided (props to Bud Light Lime; don't judge), I sat back and realized, hey, we do! But they can get better, right?
Some kind of magical chemistry, alchemic even, could happen. Sillier things have happened in sports.
Just look at San Antonio leading the league with Duncan's Weekend at Bernies'd corpse at the helm. And who knows, I've waited for Bargnani to show up this long, what do I have to lose waiting another year?
Another year. That's what I lost.
It's only March, but I am more than confident that this team has little hope for the future. Like a Victorian lady who flashed an ankle, their prospects are slim. The overpaid point guard is better at dishing out Gatorade than assists. Our marquee big man would prefer fighting for hair gel than he would a rebound (I humbly apologize to Mr. Nowitzki for dirtying his good name by comparing the two).
The high flier settles for jump shots, of which he is woefully missing the shot portion. The rest of the team? The WNBA called and it wants it's bench players back.
The Raptors have zero pieces that could prevent me from yawning if they up and demanded a trade. The Raptors have zero pieces that could up and demand a trade and not be laughed at by the city, all the while everyone shakes their heads like a father looking at his five year old kid demanding a new family because they didn't get ice cream for dinner.
But what can be done? Most are just hunkering down and hoping a good draft pick helps right the boat. It's just too bad the boat's stuck in a desert and the draft is the worst that I've seen in a decade.
If you can name someone from this draft that can become a consensus franchise player, and I'll gladly guide you back to the psych ward you escaped from. There is no Blake Griffin. No Lebron. Hell, there isn't even a Bargnani to screw up the team even more. Curse me if you like. Pray misery and famine on me and my kin. But I can guarantee you that no one on this draft projects anything beyond a token all-star appearance a decade down the line.
So commit suicide—blow this team up. I wouldn't miss a single player from this current squad.
Calderon can take the remaining time of his ridiculous contract elsewhere. Bargnani can take his, well, whatever it is he brings somewhere else that can appreciate the non-factor he brings night in and night out. Derozan, Weems, Johnson, Kleiza, whatever, can take a hike. I would rather a mundane, boring, predictable player inhabit the roster spot than someone with occasional glimpses of brilliance that ultimately leads to a loss more often than not.
Of course, a full-on bowel evacuation isn't possible, but someone has to tell Bryan Colangelo that there's a reason Euroleague teams can't compare.
They may steal a game now and then from a proper NBA squad, but the other vast majority of the time? They get beat harder than being Snooki in front of a high school PE teacher. You know the real reason why the NBA hasn't branched out overseas? It's not the travel or scheduling problems. It's that the vast majority of the best players are already here. If you get rid of that inner-hipster attitude, you'll know that's true.
So, do not wait for the draft. Superman isn't coming. A saviour will not rise. No deus ex machina. Mona Lisa will not smile (okay, that one was a stretch).
The team needs to revamp, retool and fire Bryan Colangelo.
Definitely fire Bryan Colangelo.
Now let the vitriol role, Toronto. Give me your best shot. Show me you still have passion for this franchise.