The Warriors played beautifully tonight. That goes without saying. They beat their rivals by 35.
Stephen Curry’s response to his terrible Christmas Day performance could’ve been to take 20 shots in the first quarter; instead Curry went into Nash mode with 10 assists in the first half. Kevin Durant’s emphatic transition dunk told the story, while the NBA’s lead actor, LeBron James, went to the “let’s accentuate Draymond Green’s recklessness” well once again. James drew a flagrant foul, but ultimately looked like a fool with his WWE-esque flop.
There’s nothing that can stop the Warriors when they’re in a groove, and it seems like nothing can stop this franchise on its way to global domination. That’s why my feelings don’t matter. Corporations are bulldozers, and they’ll face even fewer obstacles in the coming years.
Which means they won’t even read this, because this site doesn’t exist. I don’t exist. That’s what I was told, when after requesting access to Monday night’s game against the Cavaliers two days prior (and getting approved on Sunday), I received an email on Monday morning from Warriors PR.
Due to the overwhelming amount of requests and media attending tonight’s game, we will be unable to provide you a seat in the media section in the arena bowl. We have built an Auxiliary Media Work Area back of house in the North Tunnel area where you can watch the game on monitors. A map of this location is attached.
You will still have the same pregame and postgame credentialed access that you have to every game.
We’re sorry that we cannot provide everyone attending tonight’s game with a seat, but we appreciate your understanding and cooperation.
Hopefully they don’t “appreciate” it too much, because while “cooperation” is a strong suit of mine, “understanding” takes more effort.
The Warriors have long been good to me, although that might change after they read this.
They first provided access in 2010, when this website was a side project, and working as an editor for a heartless corporation in downtown San Francisco was my full-time gig. I had to make up an excuse to leave work and attend “Tweedia Day,” a social media-based subsection of Warriors Media Day, which was attended by surprisingly few people.
OK, maybe not all that surprising considering the Warriors were in the midst of yet another playoff drought after the We Believe team was unceremoniously disbanded. Monta Ellis was the difficult “superstar,” Curry was the talented guy with styrofoam ankles. Most of the Bay Area ignored the Warriors at this time. Let alone the entire globe.
Tweedia Day soon turned into gameday credentials. Those passes allowed me to sit in “press row,” which consisted of tables between the lower level and the luxury suites that were half full for most games. Nowadays those tables are uncomfortably full, and different sections — created to house the ever-growing media contingent — are spread out through the arena. Those sections were unnecessary six years ago. Still, the Warriors never turned me down when I requested a seat to cover them. Even playoff games.
My family recently moved to Calistoga, so instead of walking to AT&T Park and BARTing to the Oakland, much more planning is required to cover live sporting events. San Francisco is a freezing, windy adult playground, and I loved living there in my late-20s/early-30s. We tried making it work when we had our daughter, but a child can only sleep in a closet, with paint that was likely lead-based in a 75-year-old, third-floor, walk-up apartment for so long. Now I live in the opposite of “NoPa,” and it’s great. But it makes covering live sports 75 miles away a bit less feasible.
My plan was to cover Monday night’s game, stay the night with friends, and cover the Chase Arena groundbreaking in the City on Tuesday morning.
I moved away from San Francisco for a lot of the same reasons the Warriors can’t wait to move in. They will profit like mad in their new home, but while they speak about creating a home court advantage, one has to wonder if that can possibly migrate to Mission Bay. Even Oracle Arena isn’t quite the same as it was a few years ago.
Like the 49ers getting a new stadium in Santa Clara, the move across the bay probably wouldn’t be possible without their recent run of success. No one in San Francisco seemed to care much about the NBA when I moved there in 2007. But they sure loved their Warriors in Oakland. They still do, but many have been priced out.
Boo-hoo. Capitalism, y’all. C’mon, you wussified snowflake, would we rather see the Warriors stuck in neutral, trying to pretend Mike Dunleavy and Troy Murphy (squint and you’ll swear they combine to form Alex Smith) are the future? Of course not! Which is why this post will probably go over about as well as the Jason Richardson-to-Charlotte trade.
The Warriors are the new Lakers. This is fantastic news for Joe Lacob, Peter Guber, and everyone else with a financial stake. It’s great for the fans who envied Lakers supporters for decades. Golden State is the new Showtime. The arena in San Francisco will probably be beautiful, as opposed to that dump the 49ers hastily threw together in Santa Clara.
And if people are left behind — like fans who used to be able to afford upper bowl seats, or bloggers who used to be able to have actual conversations with Curry in the locker room after games coached by Keith Smart (who used to think it was a good idea to bench Curry for long stretches of the fourth quarter and give Acie Law those minutes), it’s all for the greater good, right? It’s all about elite basketball. Championships. Corporate partnerships. National exposure.
Sure, the team may be turning its back on its loudest fans or the folks who wrote about the Warriors when they were a niche squad. But no one worries when you’re winning. They needed the hardcore fans and lowly bloggers back in 2010. They don’t need us anymore.