Tomorrow...I wondered if I'd ever see tomorrow. Too often I wondered how and if I'd make it through what have been some of the darkest days in franchise history. I wondered how many tears I'd shed, how much blood and sweat I'd expend, how much will I'd have to find in order to fight and keep fighting. I wondered if I had enough inside of me. I wondered if I had enough love, enough passion, enough faith and belief, and enough patience and perseverance. I wondered if even if I could figure out how to move mountains and parts seas whether I would still fall short. I've wondered a lot of things these past few years. I wondered who'd fight against us, who'd call us names AND call us crazy, and wondered who'd step up and fight alongside us. I wondered when the next shoe would drop; because it was never a question of if but when and how many more were coming. I wondered if this game or that game was the last I'd ever see. Or hear. I wondered how many more chances I would get. I wondered if April 17, 2013, was my last time inside Arco Arena (sorry, old habits die hard). I wondered how many former players, TV networks, and NBA bloggers and writers would come forward, and wondered if anyone else would ever pay attention and listen. I wondered if all the work done by the grassroots organizations and the army of fans who followed them fearlessly would be done in vain, done in by forces beyond our collective control. I wondered if all of my Kings memories would become whispers and dust blowing in the wind, recalled only when talking to my future kids and grandkids about how life isn't always fair and how love doesn't always find a way no matter how much you fight for it and believe in it. Life has not been very kind to the Sacramento Kings or to Sacramento Kings fans. We've felt snake bit for most, if not all, of the 28 seasons we've been in existence. If it wasn't a bad team (which we've had a LOT of), it was bad draft picks or bad trades, or a leaky roof, or a nearly fatal car accident, or a suicide (RIP Mr. Berry), or really awful and inopportune player injuries, or a referee, or a last second shot. As a fan base we've been there, done that, and we have the battle scars to prove it. But that's what makes us who and what we are. We've survived it all and we fought like hell to keep it. Tomorrow. It’s a hallowed word in these parts, among these people. So much expectation, so much hope, something to look forward to, but only if everything falls into place. You have to survive in order to reach tomorrow. Each day that went by, each hour and second we still had...man...tomorrow. Tomorrow is what kept us alive. Hope and faith and love and passion kept us alive. Many times, too many times, I wondered if we'd ever see tomorrow. But tomorrow is nearly here. In a few hours, tomorrow will be today.
I understand just how lucky of a fan base we are. I understand just how many dominoes had to fall into place, how many doors had to close so others could open, just how many times we had to get knocked down to be able to stand back up one more time. I understand. Actually, I probably don't understand just how much had to work in our favor for everything to fall into place. Even when it seemed like everything was falling apart, in reality, everything was falling into place in its own time and at its own pace. I mean, you could follow every single moment back in time and trace it all but we'd spend our lifetimes finding all of the veins. I know we still have an arena fight on our hands. I know that until the doors open in 2016 no one can settle in and say we've won the war. But tomorrow is almost here. To Vivek and ALL of the fellow owners who stepped up when we needed you most, to Mayor Kevin Johnson, to the grassroots organizations, to the army of fans who loyally fought to the death (just not ours!!!), tomorrow is almost here! I don't know how I'm going to celebrate except to know it'll be amazing and wonderful and entirely worth it. The feeling, the sheer magnitude of tomorrow cannot be measured or put into words. I'm sure I'll cry several buckets of tears. I may even need a mop. The SAC-RA-MEN-TO and HERE WE STAYED chants will never be louder. The cheers will never be sweeter. Yelling at the referee (aka my TV) from 800 miles away will never feel so good. My ears will never be so happy to hear Gary Gerould's voice on the radio. My eyes will never be so excited to see Grant Napear and Jerry Reynolds on screen. I may not physically be in the arena tomorrow but I will be. Each fellow Kings fan carries the spirit of all of us inside them. We fought for our team and fought for each other. But it's all been worth the happiness and validation I will feel tomorrow, not only for myself but for everyone involved. For every fellow Kings fan, Kings employee, and Kings player, and for every future fan, employee, and player, every single second of the past 28 years has been worth it. Just to see tomorrow.
To everyone involved, to every person, organization, company, and entity, to everyone who fought with us, even to those who fought against us, and to anyone else involved in even in the slightest possible way, I feel I owe you a debt of gratitude I will never ever be able to repay. From the bottom of my heart, always and forever purple, thank you for tomorrow. Long Live The Kings!