Take This Team Called Clippers--Please, Somebody Take Them

Orlando, Fla., you hot little city you, I know that you sunny, happy, zip-a-dee-doo-dah people would just love to have professional basketball. I know that you want to be in the National Basketball Assn. so badly down there in Disney World that you already have hired a team management figure, have sold thousands of season tickets and have named your club-to-be the Orlando Magic, as in Johnson. Or, I don’t know, maybe as in Woolridge.

Miami, Fla., you even hotter city you, I know that you folks do not want to be outdone by your brother Orlandoans, if that’s what they are called, to the point that you, too, have been trying to land an NBA expansion franchise for your town. You, too, have sold season tickets. You, too, have an arena ready and waiting for your brand new team--and I even hear that it’s indoors.

Minneapolis, Minn., you cold folks, you young and old folks, I know that you are eager to get back in the league. Some bums took your Lakers away. Some guys who don’t even have many lakes. You, too, have made your pitch to the NBA about putting a team in the Twin Cities. Already decided to name them the Minnesota Timberwolves or Minnesota Polars, I hear. Well, don’t worry. Utah and Seattle have stupid names, too.

So many of you strange and wonderful towns of North America want so much to have a professional basketball team that you can call your own. And by that I do not mean some Continental Basketball Assn. team, where the leading scorer makes 150 bucks a week. I mean a genuine, authentic, honest-to-Auerbach professional basketball team.

Well, take mine.

Please.

I’m serious.

Go on, somebody. Take the Clippers. Help yourself.

We don’t need ‘em. We got plenty. Go right ahead. No cost. Absolutely free. You want ‘em, you got ‘em. Just call Irsay Movers, 1-800-COLTS, and bring your van over to the L.A. Sports Arena any night next week. Haul ‘em away. Darnell Valentine, Benoit Benjamin, Kurt Nimphius, the whole works. Nice guys, all. Take Quintin Dailey, too, if you like. No extra charge. We’ll even throw in this handy pocket calculator.

What’s the catch, you ask? Why is this guy being so doggoned generous, giving us his ball team and all?

Well, this is still a holiday season, in my eyes. It is better to give than to receive. And besides, I am also a great believer in good causes and acts of charity. There are so many needy communities that could use a professional basketball team for entertainment. Those of us who have so much should try to help those who have so little. Thanks to you, it’s working, the United Way.

I know all my good friends in greater Los Angeles will agree with me that somebody else deserves the Clippers more than us. After all, we still have the Lakers, who are doing quite nicely, thank you. Kareem Abdul-Jabbar is still playing decent basketball at age 57, and Magic Johnson has been preparing for Life After Kareem by averaging, oh, about 20 points, 20 assists, 20 rebounds, 20 steals and 20 grins a game. The old quintuple double.

Last time I looked, the Lakers were something like 25-6 in the standings. The Clippers were something like 4-26. The Clippers are threatening to put together the worst NBA record of all time, even more rotten than that team of mopes and misfits that went 9-73.

The other day I counted the votes Clipper players have received for next month’s All-Star Game. I counted them on one hand. Well, maybe two hands. Maybe a foot. But, as you can see, I have no more use for my calculator.

The Clippers’ record on the road, at the moment, is 1-12. I attempted to locate some of the players from the team that lost to the Clippers at home, but after many persistent calls, I have found that 5 of the 12 have checked into sanitariums, and the other seven have gone into the FBI witness protection program, receiving new identities in exchange for informing on their friends.

Even so, the Clippers do represent an actual, certified NBA franchise. You can say anything you want about them, but you can’t say they don’t play in the league. You can say they don’t belong in the league. You can say they belong in the Major Indoor Soccer League. You can say they ought to call themselves the Los Angeles Clodhoppers. But you can’t say they ain’t NBA.

Things have gotten so shameful, though, that the other day the coach of the Tampa Bay Thrillers, one of those goofball CBA teams I was talking about earlier, happened to mention that his players believed they could give the Clippers a game. Personally, I doubt it. I doubt if the Thrillers could even come within four points of the Clippers.

Never mind about that, though. Toronto, Vancouver, Memphis, Carolina, Pittsburgh--couldn’t you nice ladies and gents use an NBA team of your very own right now? Cincinnati, Kansas City, New Orleans--wouldn’t you like to have pro basketball back? Come on, you Dakota folk, make room for these very tall dudes in very short pants. Imagine: The Fargo Fireballs! The Rapid City Flashes! The Bismarck Herrings! The Pierre Salingers! Have a team. Have a ball.

If you or anyone you know is interested in taking this basketball team off my hands, write me, Mike Downey, Owner of Sorts, Los Angeles Clippers, care of this publication. Or call. Operators are standing by. This could be the opportunity of a lifetime. What’s mine is yours.