Without Sergio I am Nothing

Trade winds threaten to ruin my life.

January 6, 2009

I’ve always been a little strange with my choice of cultural fixations.

As a kid, while my other friends were getting into Garfield, I was pouring over Bloom County. I preferred deviled ham and Vienna sausages to Spam. And as much as I loved Nirvana, it was Pavement who first pried apart my musical third eye and taught me that the best rock was far removed from Casey Kasem’s Weekly Top 40.

It’s the same thing with the Blazers.

Don’t get me wrong. I love me some Roy and Rudy and Pryz and Oden, but I’m most likely to make everyone else in the room uncomfortable by ripping off my shirt and waving it over my head when my main men Sergio Rodriguez and Travis Outlaw are pulling off crazy-coo-coo above the rim hijinks.

Rodriguez and Outlaw. Or, as I call them, Serge and Nosferatu. Never have two more awkward looking athletes (Outlaw with a body made of elbows; Serge with his sorta-kinda mohawk) made such beautiful music together.

So when I get back from a Christmas trip to Arkansas only to hear that the two might be trade bait for the Knicks’ David Lee I was stung. It’s like finding out your junior high girlfriend’s family might be moving to some godforsaken place like Texas.

Now of course nothing is official. And given Pritchard’s recent track record it’s hard to argue with any master plan he might have. Roy is hurt. Pryz is banged up and Oden’s effectiveness is still an unpredictable ebb and flow. Lee (averaging 14 points and 11 boards) is known for rebounding and hustle and could help add a little muscle in the post…although considering the run-and-gun system he plays in, it’s hard to tell how he might fit in Portland’s scheme.

Regardless, I’ve got butterflies. This is the downside to fandom. Especially when you view your team (or certain players) like a scruffy little kid who’s finally making something of himself. We become attached. Sometimes irrationally so. We start to identify with certain traits. In my case goofy looking guys who try really hard, often screw up, but every so often explode in a mushroom cloud of fulfilled promise.

Like The Dude, we will abide. But if a trade means I have to ditch my growing collection of Dorito’s that bear a striking resemblance to Sergio (or worse, redecorate my headboard mural in Knicks colors), I will not be happy.

Anyone want to start an Ike Diogu fanclub?

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