ESPN NBA

The self-described 78th best writer in America makes the case that NBA basketball and Starbucks Coffee are both delicious and in their way good for Seattle. His sprawling article (thank you Sean) covers a ton of ground, but here's a favorite section:

We care about Ridnour's failures and successes more than we care about most everything else in our lives.



Isn't that pathetic?



Well, yes, of course it is, but it's also the most common way in which a particular kind of male expresses love for himself, for other men, and for the world.



While my father was dying, he and I talked basketball. Three days before he died, my father still had enough will and character left to deride Kobe Bryant for being a rotten smallpox wound on the game of basketball.



"I know," I said. "I can't stand him."



That meant I love you, Dad.



"I still can't believe they traded Shaq instead of Kobe."



That meant I love you, too, Son.



Of course, no matter how much I hate Kobe, I still love to watch him play. He's a ferocious poet on the court. And I most especially love to watch him lose.



I hate Kobe like other people hate the New York Yankees. And, man, it feels good to hate like that because I won't start any wars because of it. I get to hate without fear of violence.



And my father hated Kobe like that, too.



When I look back at my relationship with my father, when I put a narrative to it, I realize that every plot point, every surprise, and every tender and/or painful moment has something to do with basketball.