Cleveland has a lot of important things to offer the world. For example, did you know that Cleveland was once said to be the original location of the Garden of Eden? My friend was drunk at the time, but he seemed to mean it. Granted, he was always a bit of an idiot. We don’t talk much any more. But for some reason he expects me to congratulate him every time he gets a new job on LinkedIn. Twice a year, dude? Seriously? That’s not a series of accomplishments; that’s recursive evidence of a singular problem. It’s not good. Get yourself together, stop taking social media so seriously, stop mocking people who take selfies and then take them yourself, and stop putting your ACT score on your resume. You’re 27, for god’s sake. 28 in November. This is shameful.
The IPhone 6 is not an adequate replacement for consensual sex.
Allspice is an underrated seasoning.
Sidestepping is still jaywalking.
Don’t trust squirrels.
I don’t get it.
If I seem distracted, it’s because I want to be. I don’t want to say I was happy to see LeBron leave Cleveland, and I don’t want to say I was happy to see Dan Gilbert lose touch with the permanence of written word to maintain a limbic bond with his keyboard and self-regard, and I don’t want to say I was happy to see Cleveland turn four top-4 picks in three years into one above-average starter, so I’m writing it instead.
These moments made me smile. I can’t exactly describe why. Maybe because I was raised with a strong dislike of Ohio. Or it could be because I like to prop myself up by giggling at people who take sports more seriously than I do and react purely and emotionally to what is essentially just another constructed form of entertainment. Or it could be because as long as God continues to hate Cleveland, he’ll leave Detroit alone. If the sky is going to fall, let it fall somewhere else. Who knows? In any of these scenarios I’m a delusional dick. I’ve accepted it, and that’s what makes me so irrepressibly likeable. Yeah? Yeah.
That’s what I’m used to, anyway. Then “The Re-Decision” or “De-Decision” or whatever happens.
This is difficult.
This entire story makes me happy, and that makes me ill. Clammy, pulsating mind-cramps at the idea of being glad that Ohio is glad. This is the way the world ends.
All the angry videos on Cleveland phones from summer 2010 before people knew how to post them, all the hopeless ‘we can do it without LeBron!’ fervor that was distilled into resignation is this: _____. Bounce back up, buddy. The citizens of Cleveland got to save their energy for the last four years. Now, with hopes well rested, there’s no reason for them not to throw themselves into that dream completely. There’s no more doubt that LeBron can lead a team to a championship (as if there ever should have been (oh my god I hated that narrative)). He’s done it now. Twice now. Now, LeBron just has to be LeBron, and that’s empirically good enough. How great would it be to be a Cavs fan right now?
(anger¶ x 244)
Why is my tongue bleeding?
Leave me alone. I’ve done my penance; my soul is pure, so now I can start looking for subtle acts of sabotage to celebrate.
Do you know how hard a pile of bricks are? They get harder after the 33rd headbutt. They stop hurting after the 39th.
My favorite Cavalier is Dion Waiters. He’s young. He can go 30-5. He has strong opinions on foot quality. His 3P% jumped quite a bit this past season. He really, really likes scoring. He dunks children. He has no regard for the mental and physical well-being of his former teammates. He has slightly higher regard for his current teammates. There are just so many interesting things that can happen with Dion.
I would like all of them to happen, even the ones that seems diametrically opposed to each other. I would like Dion to lead the Cavs to the NBA Finals while submarining their playoff hopes. I would like to see Dion be Dwyane 2.0 circa June 2013 as well as Circa December 2010. I would like Dion to post flattering pictures of his growing relationship with Kyrie Irving on instagram while posting effigies on his back-up, more-personal instagram account. I would like Dion Waiters to win MVP. Hah.
This is kind of like an eclipse for me. I can’t stare directly at it. LeBron, Love, and Irving taking the Cavs to the the Championship round while confused Cavs fans decide whether or not they’re allowed to sing “Seven Nation Army” will burn my badword eyes out. But I can watch Dion. He might be the best 4th-man LeBron ever plays with. What he does is going to be fascinating. And safe. If Dion’s good, then I can enjoy Dion. If Dion makes the Cavs worse, I can appreciate that Dion too.
Let’s just talk about Dion. The rest of Cleveland makes me bleed my own blood.