NBA: An Open Letter to NBA Players and Owners

Dear NBA,

Don't do this to us. 

Last season was one of the best years that we've ever spent together—now is not the time to walk away.

We still haven't finished processing everything that went down with the infamous trio from South Beach.

There was Crygate and there was Bumpgate. There was "The Decision" (sponsored by Vitamin Water), and then there was "The Indecision," or however you choose to refer to LeBron James' passive-aggressive behavior in the NBA Finals.

You can't leave us like this...not when Los Angeles Clippers games are now must-see-TV. Blake Griffin doesn't just move the meter on SportsCenter—he can almost make us forget about Clippers owner Donald Sterling, a man so out-of-touch with reality that he chose to celebrate Black History Month in March.

Kevin Love emerged from the wilderness of Minnesota to post double-double after double-double, 64 in all. You surely can't abandon us as soon as the Timberwolves have become quasi-relevant again, can you?

Without question, your future is looking brighter than it has in recent memory. In the postseason alone, we marveled at the emergence of a potential superstar in Bulls point guard Derrick Rose.

We saw the maturation of a young Oklahoma City team poised to reign over the Western Conference, provided that they can learn how to actually pass the basketball.

We're anxious to watch Kemba and Jimmer and Bismack and Kyrie go head-to-head against the best in the NBA. We're eager to see just how much Kobe has left in the tank. We wonder if a full year in a Knicks uniform will help 'Melo take New York to the next level.

The ratings don't lie: We were here for you during the 2010-11 season. All that we ask is that you return the favor.

Most of us can't help you settle your differences when it comes to a new collective bargaining agreement. We don't care about a "hard cap" or a "flex cap"; we don't concern ourselves with the "Bird exception" or the "mid-level exception."

When we think of the acronym CBA, we think of that now-defunct basketball league that Isiah Thomas single-handedly destroyed. 

We don't know what exactly needs to be done—we just know that you need to do it.

Do it for Brendan Haywood's sake. Without a season, he'll be unable to reclaim his manhood, last seen during the Western Conference playoffs before it was stuffed inside Kevin Durant's stylish Nike backpack. 

Do it for us fans, many of whom took to the local rec center to emulate the fall-away, one-legged jumper that Dirk Nowitzki makes so effortlessly. 

Do it for Ron Artest, or Metta World Peace, or whatever he decides to call himself today. If idle hands are the devil's tools, then we all should be worried if Artest has more free time this offseason than he typically does.

In fact, the only ones who don't want the season to start on time are the Detroit Pistons, who don't appear all that interested in actually playing basketball.

But as for the rest of us? We'll be waiting.

The ball is in your hands now. 

Don't let us down.