Friday , Dec , 07 , 2007 C.Y. Ellis

Why Your Favorite Team Sucks

A Captain Jack’s Headband Article

I’ve been poking around HoopsVibe just long enough to figure out that the readership here is willing to jump on any writer for showing even the slightest bit of bias towards any team. Just ask poor Jason Kelly who gets his head called for every time he even tangentially mentions the Phoenix Suns. As this is my debut here, I feel the need to inoculate myself from any potential criticism by putting it on record that I hate any potential team I could be accused of being biased towards. Hence, Captain Jack’s Headband wants to let you know exactly why each team in the NBA sucks.

Atlanta Hawks: Oh Jesus, where to begin. Captain Jack’s Headband went to college in Atlanta and met exactly zero people there who were Hawks fans. That’s why I’m completely stunned that there’s an ownership struggle over the franchise that’s been stretching on for years; as far as I can tell the only people who are even interested in the franchise can’t even get along well enough to determine who should control the team. Thus Captain Jack’s Headband introduces the universal rule for the Atlanta Hawks: If you claim to be a fan, you must have a purported ownership interest. Any team that has such a small fan base even though it’s in one of the largest markets in the country must suck.

Boston Celtics: This is a league full of black athletes and eastern Europeans. Your mascot is still an Irish guy with obscenely bad taste in evening wear. Seriously, look at this and tell me this was fashionable in any era:

I’m stunned your whole team wasn’t on the premiere episode of “What Not to Wear.” And you wonder why your team was irrelevant for 20 years.

Charlotte Bobcats: Your team is run by a degenerate gambler who is responsible for making shoes that inner city youth shot each other over in the early 90s. Oh yeah, and Emeka Okafor vaguely looks like a CHUD to me. I can’t explain why.

Chicago Bulls: Oh the hubris. This is the franchise that prematurely broke up the Michael Jordan/Scottie Pippen/Dennis Rodman/Phil Jackson nucleus in order to rebuild because they were convinced they could make another dynasty in short order. Basketball Karma doesn’t smile on such behavior. Since then they’ve been alternately awful or tantalizing. This season, right when everyone was convinced they were good again they’ve gone and crapped the bed. Here’s hoping the Bulls become the new Cubs.

Cleveland Cavaliers: You have freaking Lebron James and you can’t put anything remotely resembling a decent supporting cast around him? This is astonishing to me. Surrounding Lebron with Zydrunas’ feet (I’m convinced his parents thought he was going to be a Chinese housewife when he was young and bound them), the artist formerly known as Larry Hughes (although if he was ever anything “artistic” he was probably a mime at his peak), Donyell Marshall, Eric Snow, Sasha Pavlovic, and a guy named Boobie is nigh indefensible. Sticking Lebron with that crew is like casting Marlon Brando in “Good Luck Chuck.”

Denver Nuggets: Carmelo Anthony has commissioned a portrait of himself as Jesus hanging on the cross. Allen Iverson is, to say the least, a man of questionable character who has a storied history of not getting along for long stretches of time with other scorers. All your big men are more fragile than Faberge eggs and George Karl’s face makes him look like he should be sponsoring Michelin tires. This team is about as unlovable as they come. Captain Jack’s headband does like Von Wafer though, he sounds delicious.

Detroit Pistons: You haven’t won a championship in several years, the rest of the league is getting better while you’re getting worse, your general manager is the least-deserving Hall of Famer in recent memory (I’d allege affirmative action, but I don’t think that applies to the NBA), and Rasheed Wallace isn’t nearly as entertaining as he used to be. I liked you all when you decided to make yourselves championship belts, that was hilarious. Much less fun when the average age of your team can only be determined through carbon-dating.

Golden State Warriors: Baron, as a man to another man, just shave. Please, for the sake of everyone who goes to the games. It looks like your beard was made with one of these:

Houston Rockets: On the positive side you no longer have a coach with such huge bags under his eyes that he perpetually looks like a meth addict looking to score at three in the morning. On the negative side you replaced him with Rick Adelman, who has a moustache Alex Trebek would be jealous of and a history of playoff collapses that even Tracy McGrady finds daunting. Between McGrady, Adelman, Yao, and Steve Francis I’m not certain I could have made a team with a larger “playoff failure” stamp on them if I tried. And don’t even get me started on Tracy’s amblyopia, I could write 10,000 words about that.

Indiana Pacers: In the 1970s the members of the ABA edition of the Indiana Pacers got a bizarre western fetish and would wear cowboy boots, carry around guns, and pretend to shoot each other in the locker room and all over the arena. Captain Jack’s Headband’s crack team of researchers are currently unable to confirm rumors that the players enjoyed tying each other up with leather. In the 1980s and 1990s one of the Pacer’s best players had the nickname “The Dunking Dutchman.” The unequivocal highlight of the entire league in this decade was when Ron Artest tried to take out the entire Palace at Auburn Hills crowd because someone threw beer on him. The Pacers history is full of bizarre characters that entertained me in hilarious ways. This season your best character to watch is Mike Dunleavy. Let’s just say your current team is like those Joe Piscopo years on Saturday Night Live.

Los Angeles Clippers: I sneezed last week and the mucousy residue that ejected itself from my nasal cavity has a better chance of winning an NBA championship in the next 25 years than the Clippers.

Los Angeles Lakers: I have a roommate who’s in love with the Black Mamba (and Kobe definitely owes Quentin Tarantino royalties for that self-proclaimed nom de guerre), particularly because he has a way of dropping daggers on any team Captain Jack’s Headband happens to be rooting for at any particular moment. Although friendly rivalry is reason enough to hate the Lakers this team, provides a virtual cornucopia of other reasons to hate them. They’ve got Derek Fisher, the man who was so concerned with his daughter’s health that he needed to cancel his contract with the Utah Jazz in order to be closer to his daughter’s doctors in New York City. Everyone knows L.A. is closer to New York City than Salt Lake right? Then the Lakers are inexplicably on national television constantly while teams that are actually good like the Hornets, Magic, and Raptors toil in obscurity with just a handful of television dates a year. Then there’s Phil Jackson, who at this point with all his Zen mantras and pretentious philosophy grad-student beards should just get it over with and start endorsing clove cigarettes. I really should stop here, I could write more about why I hate the Lakers than Proust wrote in his whole career.

Memphis Grizzlies: Almost too pathetic to hate…almost. Captain Jack’s headband once had the pleasure of attending a Memphis Grizzlies game. Let’s just say that the product on the basketball court made me wish I had just stayed on Beale street instead. Also, I question the sanity of anyone who chooses to move from Vancouver to Memphis for any reason, much less financial. Memphis is that place you drive through on a road trip just to make yourself remember how nice your hometown is.

Miami Heat: We’re all aware the Heat won the championship two seasons ago, but to call the officiating in that finals series dubious is really underselling the case. Let’s just say that every time I farted on the couch Dwayne Wade got two free throws. Also if you’ve ever seen anything nearly as corrupt as Pat Riley stealing Stan Van Gundy’s job just to win another championship before you must be involved in Chicago politics somehow.

Milwaukee Bucks: Your best players could charitably be described as a one-dimensional shooter, a Chinese guy who doesn’t even want to be there, a point guard that is way too expensive for what he is, an Australian who decided the most glamorous place to spend his college years was the University of Utah, and some guy with the same disease as Stan Sitwell.

Needless to say this team has yet to produce anything even 1/10th as entertaining as the Sausage Races held at Miller Park. Anytime you’re upstaged by the Brewers, you’re in trouble.

Minnesota Timberwolves: I don’t so much hate the Timberwolves as I’m disappointed in them. Every time I listen to one of their broadcasts on League Pass I keep expecting to hear Frances McDormand from Fargo doing the play by play. Sadly, it never happens. Also, I’m sure your fans love knowing that the franchise is Boston’s NBDL affiliate. I can’t wait for the Celtics to call Al Jefferson back up so that Kevin McHale will be forced to trade him for Scott Pollard, Brian Scalabrine, and Glen Davis’ buffet table. At this point I don’t think Danny Ainge even calls McHale on the phone anymore, he just touches his Dark Mark and McHale knows he’s being summoned.

New Jersey Nets: If I was Vince Carter I’d have stopped writing this column as soon as I got paid. Ok that joke was obvious, but at least I’m as reliable as Nenad Krstic’s knee.

New Orleans Hornets: North Carolina is such a hotbed for basketball that the state is able to support four loyal college fanbases. Even in those conditions the Hornets’ owner is so unlikable that the team was essentially forced to move because even basketball crazy Charlotte refused to support the team while he was involved. Even after a long, public civil trial for rape, George Shinn had the gall to demand that the city of Charlotte build the Hornets a new stadium at no cost to the team. This guy is so unlikable that I enjoy the Hornets even though their first major star made a habit out of dressing in drag and calling himself “Grandmama.” And honestly, how could anyone hate a franchise that spawned this:

New York Knicks: There’s no way Captain Jack’s Headband could do a better job explaining why the Knicks are awful than the New York Media already has. Keeping that in mind, let’s just say that on a personal note I’m very upset that I wasn’t invited to Stephon Marbury’s last “Truck Party.” He’s even inviting the interns to those things! First Isiah wouldn’t hug me like all his other employees and now this. The only way this could get worse would be if Zach Randolph refused to pass the bong next time I’m around.

Orlando Magic: Apparently when Stan Van Gundy “resigned” from the Miami Heat to “spend more time with his family” what he really meant was “move to Orlando and coach an NBA team.” Captain Jack’s Headband’s pet peeve is when athletes try to moralize, which is why CJH hates Dwight Howard: the man looks to God to give him more money than LeBron and wants to put a cross in the NBA logo. Frankly, I’m just stunned that this team isn’t the “Orlando Joel Osteens.”

Philadelphia 76ers: Andre Iguodala sounds like something you contract from a cheap escort in a South American barrio, not the name of the best player on a crappy team. How anyone could root for the 76ers at this point astounds me. Not only is pretty much every player on the team overpaid and underwhelming, the team also has ugly uniforms, zero personality, and is named after a year rather than a fearsome animal or ethnic group. Even the New York Knickerbockers can at least claim they’re named after a pair of pants rather than the abstract concept of the events of 1776. And it’s not as if the crowd has any clever Independence themed rhymes to go along with their games. If I went to a Sixers game here’s what I’d “cheer” to make the event more festive:

One if by land
Two if by sea
This team sucks so bad
I should get in for free.

Phoenix Suns: Everyone goes on and on about how fun the Suns are to watch and how Steve Nash is the most entertaining player in the league to watch (which is plainly false given that he has exactly zero tattoos and headbands), but beneath all this is a dark underbelly. This team is composed of a group of egomaniacs who can’t get along, one prominent player, Shawn Marion, who has actually acknowledged that he might prefer personal fame to team success, another guy who stole money from the Magic for seven years and is suddenly experiencing a career renaissance and good health in Phoenix, and Raja Bell. The national sports media gives Raja Bell a free pass even though he’s one of the roughest and meanest players I’ve ever seen. Let’s just say that when I first heard that an NBA player was caught tugging on Chris Kaman’s balls during a game, Raja Bell was my first guess. Just seems like the sort of thing he would do. Any group that sells itself as “fun and loose” (which is the same way this girl named Trixie sells herself on the corner in my neighborhood) but in reality is a group of malcontents and ruffians led by a Canadian is a team Captain Jack’s Headband can’t support.

Portland Trailblazers: People act like the Jailblazer era was somehow surprising. What do you expect when the team’s most famous icon is a seven foot tall Grateful Dead listening hippie? I wouldn’t be stunned if Damon Stoudamire learned his method for sneaking marijuana through airport security by reading two decade old graffiti scrawled onto the walls of the Portland locker room. If my time at Methodist educational institutions taught me anything it’s that God hates drugs. You think Greg Oden injuring his knee before the season started was a coincidence? More like divine retribution. I fully expect next season’s iteration of the Blazers to be sponsored by a random Colombian general. Paul Allen will take money (and complimentary product!) from anyone.

Sacramento Kings: This team doesn’t even have enough self-respect to get angry that their regional rival, the Lakers, has stolen the name “bench mob” for their team this season. While the term “bench mob” was fun when it was the Kings, in part because it was fun to think about Jon Barry and Bobby Jackson dressed in pin-stripes and holding Tommy Guns, its downright insulting to see the Lakers steal that fantastic name to apply to the likes of Kwame Brown. Where’s the King’s righteous indignation over this outright theft? Why isn’t Ron Artest threatening to eat Kobe’s children? Captain Jack’s Headband could never love a team that doesn’t act like a man and retaliate when the Lakers steal from them. In this case I’m willing to make an exception and bring the Kings into my heart if one thing happens: I really want to see Mike Bibby grow a Pau Gasol beard.

San Antonio: The fans and the media have made a lot of the way that San Antonio coasts through the regular season and doesn’t really turn it on until the playoffs. Why the hell is this a good thing? While this has been called smart strategy by some, Captain Jack’s Headband calls it “screwing over your season ticket holders.” Why on earth would anyone pay for 41 home games during the season when the team has acknowledged that they only care about playing hard enough to get a decent playoff seed? Blatant disrespect towards the people who pay to see the team should never be rewarded. If that wasn’t enough, Gregg Popovich looks like one of those scarred evil villains who plans on stealing a Russian nuke and selling it to rebels from Tajikistan. At the very least he’ll never be a spokesperson for Proactiv:

Seattle Supersonics: This team is in all likelihood moving to Oklahoma City in a couple years. To be honest, I’m not even going to write about why I hate this team because there’s no target audience. It feels like they have more players than fans.

Toronto Raptors: This team has the most bizarrely rabid fan base in the league. Every league-wide message board I’ve ever seen has been full of Toronto fans who will swarm and overwhelm anyone who says anything even remotely denigrating about their team. You can find arguments over the internet where Toronto fans explain why Kris Humphries could beat Tim Duncan in one-on-one. In short, there’s clearly something in the water in Toronto and it might be communicable. As a result, I’m not going anywhere near this team.

Utah Jazz: I got my start writing for a website called That alone should tell you what I think about the Jazz. Matt Harpring alone sucks more than half the team on this list. For more information click here.

Washington Wizards: The greatest travesty in the modern NBA is that Gilbert Arenas doesn’t get to play for a team called the Washington Bullets. The name change towards the Wizards is one of the most ill-advised decisions in recent sports memory. Instead of being vaguely threatened, I’m only reminded of Mickey Mouse’s character in “Fantasia.” I refuse to root for a team where the dance team could be made up entirely of Wiccans.

Next week: Criticism of a slew of NBA advertisements and current comparisons of Brett Favre and Allen Iverson and NBA blog mockery.