When my wife found me I was laying on the floor. I was curled in the fetal position, wearing my replica 2004 Olympics Argentina basketball jersey. I had laid all my Josh McRoberts rookie cards in a circle around myself, like a protective force field.
“Josh?” I called out.
My wife was understandably alarmed.
“Josh McRoberts! You’ve come for me! I knew you would, J-Rob!”
That’s when she flipped the light switch.
“No!” I screamed, crawling under the bed. “The light brings the owners! Turn it off! Donald Sterling can feel the heat — he has the senses of a moth!”
My wife had seen enough.
“We need to get you some help,” she said lovingly.
And then she hit me with the truth: “Sweetie, there’s not going to be a season this year.”
*** *** ***
In hindsight, I guess I knew it all along. We’ve been through this before. In 1998, owners and players locked out for reasons no fan cared about, drew battle lines around issues no fan can remember, and then congratulated themselves with much fanfare when a compromise was reached. Thanks, guys.
As for my breakdown, I’m doing much better now. I sought professional help and discovered that a full, happy life can be possible without an NBA season. After the editors at Dime bore witness to my recovery, they asked me to pen a comprehensive guide to surviving the lockout. With that in mind, let us begin our journey of hope and healing. You are not alone, friend.