Dear Gil:

It was a pleasure seeing you back here over the weekend.  I know your 9-25, 30 point performance wasn’t your finest swag of the season.  Nevertheless, we were thrilled to witness your annual visit, and you could probably feel the electricity generated by the Naçion. 

Before we return to the business of securing the precious, useless #8 playoff seed, I have just one question for you:

A coin flip?  A fucking coin flip?  

That’s what you allowed to stand between Gilbert Arenas and the City of Los Angeles?! What could’ve been one of the greatest marriages between individual and place in the NBA was derailed because… because you thought it’d be cute to let chance place you in either Washington or Los Angeles??

Having lived there for a few years, I intend no disrespect toward DC.  I know that Washington has some larger importance, that it’s given the world the independent prosecutor, Fugazi and, “Bitch set me up.”   I get all that.  But, Geeyaayzus, Gil!  We’re talking about Los Angeles, California – the greatest launching pad for a brand platform the world has going!  Dan Fegan is probably killing himself!  And he should, you know why?

Because we wouldn’t have cared that you’re an inveterate attention whore.  As long as you’re not vulgar about it, attention-loving isn’t the worst character flaw in the world.  Hell, if we didn’t invent it here in Los Angeles as a recreation, then we’ve certainly perfected it as a cultural pastime.  Together, you and we could’ve created the greatest spectacle in sports: Kobe and Gilbert sharing a single venue, going nose-to-nose for six months, battling for the hearts and minds of Los Angeles.  Four nights a year, the city would've actually shut down just to witness the confrontation.

And Clipper Naçion?  Oh, how we would’ve loved you.  Finally, a leader with a magnitude of self that can match Kobe would've been ours.  It’s not that Elton isn’t a tremendous guy with heart, brains, and a ferocious efficiency.  In fact, EB would've served as a conscience to your irrepressible id.  It would’ve been beau-tee-ful. 

But never mind.  You had to leave destiny, matter, and consciousness to a binary coin flip, a shiny copper penny that, I’m sure, has some greater cosmic significance…like it talks to you in Urdu and shouts out play sets in the voice of Kit.  Well, good.  Now you have to play your home games in the most earnest city in the nation, while we’re still stuck in franchise limbo without a leader to guide us through the wilderness. 

Everyone loses.