I'll tell you one thing, it's a damn good thing the weather in Southern California is unlike that of any other NBA city, because - on the list of things that the Lakers and their fans currently suck at playing - basketball is followed closely by 'hard-to-get'. I know the people of Los Angeles love nothing more than star power, but how about picking their panties back up off the floor and saving some self respect for the offseason? Jeez, don't they realize they'll have plenty of time to fawn over Paul George and stop one step short of kissing his feet if/when he hits free agency? I'm not sure how intent the Thunder forward is on playing close to his hometown next year, but I do know that something in the Staples Center stunk last night and - for once - it wasn't the quality of basketball being played by the home team. I'm inclined to believe It was either the scent of desperation or Jack Nicholson's aftershave, and Jack Nicholson was alllllll out of aftershave. Isn't part of the allure of Los Angeles the prestige of it's most decorated franchise? Well, you could have fooled me, because trying to get a head start on the chase with a "WE WANT PAUL!" chant is the type of thing you'd expect from a fanbase whose free agency virginity had yet to have been taken. I wonder if Laker Nation is made up of the type of people to send triple texts throughout the process of pursing, because collectively announcing their desire for a visiting player in unison is basically the pro sports equivalent of doing so. I know LA sports fans lack as much shame as they lack loyalty, but for the sake of the all those who feel honored to have contributed to the raising of 11 banners, maybe don't honor thy opponent in the same way that you would a title run. Spreading their proverbial legs as wide as the Lakers spread their cap space is unbecoming of a true champion, but - then again - so is tampering...right Magic?
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