Dear basketball gods,
It's time. Time to reward us for a half-century's worth of waiting. Time to show us that it has been worth it.
We have been patient. We have been forced to be from the very beginning. In 1969, when a man-made coin was tossed in the air, flipping its franchise-changing power over and over again, we called heads. It showed tails. One flip more or less, and Lew Alcindor – the man who scored more points than any basketball player in history – would have worn purple and orange.
We were patient five years later, when we took a flyer on a dude named George Gervin in the fourth round. We knew he would probably go to the ABA. But even when the ABA came to us, to the NBA, the "Ice Man" didn't. Instead, he happened to be on one of the four teams that survived the merger, the San Antonio Spurs.
We were patient when, in 1987, envelope after envelope was opened during the NBA Draft Lottery. Our logo, our beloved sunburst, was still hiding in one of the final two envelopes. The last one to be opened would get the right to draft another can't-miss big man, a chiseled franchise center named David Robinson. Instead, you saved him for someone else.
“We are not just complaining. We are also deserving. We have never held the number one pick...To spurn us now and reward an already-fortunate team would be a terrible tease, tantamount to torture.”
Instead, we've had to make our own luck, but even that has been trumped by the good fortune of others. For nearly five decades, we have scraped our way to the fourth-best overall record in NBA history. That has happened despite feasting on the table scraps you have deigned to throw our way, compared to the full-course meals you have heaped upon the plates of others.
The Lakers have seemingly sported every generational center in league history. Our starting centers in our only two Finals appearances were several inches shy of seven feet.
The Spurs have gloriously tanked twice in the last two decades. You rewarded them both times, first with Robinson, then with Tim Duncan.
We are not just complaining. We are also deserving. We have never held the number one pick. Only one other team in this year's lottery (Utah) can claim such a drought, but our need is greater. To spurn us now and reward an already-fortunate team would be a terrible tease, tantamount to torture.
It's time to reward us for the blood shed and bad luck suffered. Our team has stayed in the same place with the same name for half a century, patiently paying its dues while waiting for the tools and timing for its first championship. We have been forced to create both for ourselves, coming up tantalizing short several times.
Tonight, throw us a bone. Give us the No. 1 pick. Please?
Sincerely,PHX Fans