I hope you've all enjoyed the kudos we've been getting from “outsiders” since yesterday's news as much as I have. When this all started, it felt like we were on an island that most of the world knew almost nothing about, fighting a war that only we could understand. But as the battle raged on, it became harder for people to ignore it, and they started to care, and they started to understand. Yesterday was a breaking point, and that island doesn't feel like an island any more. We're not as strange as we once were.
At least, not to everyone. Along with the kudos have come some reminders that not everyone is ready to drop their firmly-held impression of us. This started as a comment in the “What the hell is Chris Hansen doing” thread, in response to someone from up north that is trying to explain to us why Hansen is not as crazy as we think he is if we would could just see things from a different point of view:
I get why so many people don't understand our point of view, because so many have only been really paying attention to what has been going on down here for three months. But this endgame has been developing pretty much since Mayor Johnson came into office 2.5 years ago and immediately started working on securing the Kings here long-term. And he's been working closely with the NBA on it the whole time. And this is the second time that the Board of Governors has foiled the Maloofs' plans. And all of us on here have been following along with every single detail, parsed and weighed and analyzed every tidbit of information and context.
So back in January when the Seattle sale agreement became known and Kevin Johnson immediately called it an "opportunity" and the city and the fans all strapped on their work boots and shook off their doubts and got right down to friggin business, most people outside of Sacramento thought we were out of our damn minds. They saw KJ spring into action and they saw a cheerleader scrambling to give hope to his over-matched team; we saw Mayor Johnson flip his switch to beast mode and dig in for the fight he's been licking his chops to get started for years. Over the past few months, we've gotten false sympathy for a loss that hadn't happened, been belittled for our pride and our belief in a city that only we can really understand, and told to our faces and behind our backs that everyone thinks we're delusional and we should just stop being so silly and blind. Kevin Johnson has been attacked in ways that can only be described as shameful. We've been living a different reality than most of the rest of the world, though more and more have seen it our way as time goes on.
Always, we knew the day would come when someone's bubble would be burst, and either we would be vindicated in our hope and our faith and our understanding of the facts before us, or we would be pulled violently from our dreamland and have to face the cold truth that we were naive, we were foolish, and we were wrong. I tried to prepare myself for the latter as I anxiously waited for the news yesterday, but I couldn't. I couldn't figure out how it would feel to have my entire sense of reason torn to shreds and mocked by a million "You should have known better"s. So I stopped trying to prepare myself and I put my doubts right back where I've kept them for two and a half years, locked away in a box sealed with KJ's confident grin. And then the news came. Vindication. Unanimous vindication. We're not crazy. We're not wrong. We won.
There's Hansen. And some, not all, Seattle fans. And some national media. We're being irrational. We're still over-matched. We're vaporware. We're naive. Our point of view is "interesting". Same as it ever was.
I know the war isn't over. Most of us know that. The Maloofs are a live bomb and we're not totally sure if anyone has quite figured out how to disarm it, yet. But I don't plan on breaking the seal on that box of doubts anytime soon. And I'm sure as shit not going to worry about anyone that doesn't think we've earned every bit of joy and pride that we felt yesterday and every other day along the way. I can see the scoreboard just fine from here, and it makes me smile, even if there's still time left on the clock. Maybe “Here We Stay” isn't quite ready to be changed to “Here We Stayed”, but our voices are stronger than ever and the chants are getting louder. There's still people making noise to stop it, but I can barely hear them. Can you?