Girl, That Arena Ain't Right For You

Apparently, Clay Bennett wants to talk again. Now, we don't know squat about owning sports teams, so we won't presume to give Mr. Bennett advice on how to negotiate with this waterside shanty-town. But one thing we do know is Love, specifically the requisite sweet-nothings that lubricate this most powerful of human conditions. And, as far as we can tell, this is what this Storm/Sonics thing is all about: Bennett and Seattle coming to an understanding relationship so that they know what to expect when they hop into the civic sack together.

With that in mind, we will presume to give Mr. Bennett some advice. Rather than as an owner, he should speak as a lover. After all, he has expressed a commitment to Seattle. And who better to consult about matters of love than Onion columnist and Love Man, Smoove B? We drank something a little earlier and it allowed us to channel Mr. B.

What follows is a transcript of our vision. We suggest that Mr. Bennett take this new tack in his negotiations with Seattle:

Girl, That Arena Ain't Right For You
by Clay "Smoove" B

Seattle, why must you be this way? Have I not ridden into town upon my finest steed, with its pure-white, pure-bred mane flowing in the refreshing Puget Sound breeze, and lavished the finest of care onto your basketball teams? Have I not exerted the greatest efforts to make a wonderful life for us here in your beautiful homeland? Know that I will do this for you, even at great pain and inconvenience to myself, because I love you, baby.

Baby, let us come together like we did back in those golden days. Do you remember them? I do because you are the finest piece that I ever did hit. You know of what I speak. Do you remember how I would toil in the fields all day, cultivating and harvesting the freshest, certified-organic forwards and guards with which I cooked you exquisite championships? I do to, baby. Let's go back to those good times.

Forget that nasty shack! It is certainly not befitting of your radiant beauty. You are an emerald queen and you deserve the most resplendent castle that the taxpayers can afford. Its bejeweled halls ought to be lined with the rarest metals and be lit by twinkling precious gemstones. Its seats, made with the softest Corinthian leather, should caress the buttocks of fans as lovingly as I caress every centimeter of your voluptuous, hourglass figure, Seattle.

Also, there will be both 110 and 220 volts of alternating current electricity.

But don't think that I won't put in my fair share, baby, for I will travel to the ends of the earth to collect the most exquisite building materials just for you. I will start here in Washington and quarry the finest stone with my bare hands. I will also quarry purely decorative stone such granite, marble, and limestone. Then, I will seek out the wisest of all of the masons of Rabat --which is in Morocco-- so that they will teach me how to make the most perfectly rectangular bricks. I will carry them on my own back across the ocean into your front yard to clad your jewel-encrusted palace.

For the centerpiece, I will personally fell the most elegant teak wood from the Orient. Then I will mill it in my own precision workshop. If need be, I will purchase the exclusive services of Master Carpenter Norm Abrams. Finally, the wood will be stained with the blood of the working class for, as you well know, that is the richest and most beautiful finish that can be applied to naked lumber.

Speaking of naked, baby, after I finish building this dazzling palace for you, we will be finally ready to play ball. I think you know what I mean by this. You are so beautiful. I will gently set you down upon the highest thread-count sheets. I will anoint you with the most sensual oils and the finest spices from Zanzibar. I will also bring you a hot dog from the concession stand. Then I will hit a three-pointer. This will be followed by another three-pointer and then another. We will continue to score baskets until triple overtime if that is what you desire. As I remember, this is what you like. We will freak so explosively that we will have to take a short break at half-time to replenish our bodily fluids.

Then I will hit you from behind.

Baby, don't you see how much I love you? It is only because of this that I wish to construct for you a magnificent house. You will understand if I keep the profits so that I may spend them on you at a later date, perhaps. Forget what was said earlier. Know only that I wish to be with you and nobody else.

Let's get together, girl, you know my number.