http://www.sacbee.com/351/story/147527.html
Marcos Bretón: Kings lacking the viewpoint that fans have
By Marcos Bretón - Bee Columnist
Last Updated 12:25 am PDT Sunday, April 1, 2007
How much would you pay to be the Kings' "13th man"? Would you invest the price of a Kings season-ticket plan -- which is equal to the gross national product of Djibouti -- for the chance to wear a Kings uniform and sit courtside during a game next season?
Think about it: You, too, could be close enough to ignore Kings coach Eric Musselman during timeouts next season, if Musselman isn't fired by then.
Or you could let your mind wander during critical stretches, as the Kings did Friday night when they officially flushed this season down the toilet.
Act now. You have until Monday to decide. That's the deadline for Kings season-ticket holders to "re-up" for next season and possibly win a raft of prizes highlighted by "the 13th man" -- aka the King-for-a-day giveaway.
If your kid's college-fund check doesn't bounce, and if your luck is more true than Ron Artest's judgment, you also might win a trip to the 2008 NBA All-Star Game next February in New Orleans.
Included with the prize are: "first-class accommodations for two and tickets to the All-Star Game." Not included are: two flak jackets and a limo full of prostitutes. To fit in with the NBA crowd, you would have to purchase those on your own.
If you can't win that prize, you might get to "talk hoops" with Kings basketball president Geoff Petrie. That means if you asked Petrie why he assembled a roster on which no one can rebound, you could hear the "genius" quote Sophocles or Kipling instead of answering the question.
Or you could take a King to your workplace or school. Or you could have two Kings, four Kings dancers and Slamson attend your backyard party.
Sound desperate? Sound like something the Kings never had to do to attract fans during their dearly departed run of eight consecutive playoff seasons?
It is. But it shouldn't be a shock. This is brought to you by the brain trust that once gave you male dancers in spandex pants during Kings timeouts -- and that once exploited poverty and misery in Detroit as a punch line before a Kings-Detroit Pistons game.
We could write a book about the endless pratfalls at Arco Arena these days.
But the larger truth is, the Kings are holding out on you -- their consumers.
Even Kings players don't seem to want to be Kings players. What kind of incentive is that to pay tens of thousands of dollars to watch what passes for Kings basketball these days?
But to be a Kings owner? To be a Maloof for a day with all the perks and privileges therein?
Sign me up. I'll take a day of private planes and the company of women who otherwise would have nothing to do with me but for my $$$.
Or how about knowing that no matter how badly you messed up your team, you had a genius brother named George making your family tons of money with no end in sight?
Yeah, there are some crosses you would have to bear. You would have to ignore those pesky mutterings that George played the role of Michael Corleone to your Fredo -- but who cares?
You own the Kings. Even people who despise you -- local politicians and some business partners -- must dance to your tune.
That's the kind of satisfaction that tastes better than any $6,000 bottle of French Bordeaux you advertised on television.
That, dear friends, is like a lottery ticket that keeps on giving -- a prize anybody would pay to win.
After Friday night's dismal, apathetic loss to the Los Angeles Clippers, when so much was at stake -- a loss during which once-faithful Kings fans cleared out long before the final buzzer -- the Kings should wake up.
It's 1997 again. Season tickets are fixing to get dumped like charges on Artest's rap sheet.
These guys had better quit messing around and offer fans something they would really want -- a chance to be a Maloof for a day. Or maybe a week? Or a month?
Then Arco Arena would be like the mystic ball yard in the last scene of "Field of Dreams." There would be an endless stream of headlights snaking down Interstate 5 toward the old Kings barn.
The magic would return.
People would come, Joe and Gavin. People would most definitely come.
About the writer: Reach Marcos Bretón at (916) 321-1096 or mbreton@ sacbee.com.
Marcos Bretón: Kings lacking the viewpoint that fans have
By Marcos Bretón - Bee Columnist
Last Updated 12:25 am PDT Sunday, April 1, 2007
How much would you pay to be the Kings' "13th man"? Would you invest the price of a Kings season-ticket plan -- which is equal to the gross national product of Djibouti -- for the chance to wear a Kings uniform and sit courtside during a game next season?
Think about it: You, too, could be close enough to ignore Kings coach Eric Musselman during timeouts next season, if Musselman isn't fired by then.
Or you could let your mind wander during critical stretches, as the Kings did Friday night when they officially flushed this season down the toilet.
Act now. You have until Monday to decide. That's the deadline for Kings season-ticket holders to "re-up" for next season and possibly win a raft of prizes highlighted by "the 13th man" -- aka the King-for-a-day giveaway.
If your kid's college-fund check doesn't bounce, and if your luck is more true than Ron Artest's judgment, you also might win a trip to the 2008 NBA All-Star Game next February in New Orleans.
Included with the prize are: "first-class accommodations for two and tickets to the All-Star Game." Not included are: two flak jackets and a limo full of prostitutes. To fit in with the NBA crowd, you would have to purchase those on your own.
If you can't win that prize, you might get to "talk hoops" with Kings basketball president Geoff Petrie. That means if you asked Petrie why he assembled a roster on which no one can rebound, you could hear the "genius" quote Sophocles or Kipling instead of answering the question.
Or you could take a King to your workplace or school. Or you could have two Kings, four Kings dancers and Slamson attend your backyard party.
Sound desperate? Sound like something the Kings never had to do to attract fans during their dearly departed run of eight consecutive playoff seasons?
It is. But it shouldn't be a shock. This is brought to you by the brain trust that once gave you male dancers in spandex pants during Kings timeouts -- and that once exploited poverty and misery in Detroit as a punch line before a Kings-Detroit Pistons game.
We could write a book about the endless pratfalls at Arco Arena these days.
But the larger truth is, the Kings are holding out on you -- their consumers.
Even Kings players don't seem to want to be Kings players. What kind of incentive is that to pay tens of thousands of dollars to watch what passes for Kings basketball these days?
But to be a Kings owner? To be a Maloof for a day with all the perks and privileges therein?
Sign me up. I'll take a day of private planes and the company of women who otherwise would have nothing to do with me but for my $$$.
Or how about knowing that no matter how badly you messed up your team, you had a genius brother named George making your family tons of money with no end in sight?
Yeah, there are some crosses you would have to bear. You would have to ignore those pesky mutterings that George played the role of Michael Corleone to your Fredo -- but who cares?
You own the Kings. Even people who despise you -- local politicians and some business partners -- must dance to your tune.
That's the kind of satisfaction that tastes better than any $6,000 bottle of French Bordeaux you advertised on television.
That, dear friends, is like a lottery ticket that keeps on giving -- a prize anybody would pay to win.
After Friday night's dismal, apathetic loss to the Los Angeles Clippers, when so much was at stake -- a loss during which once-faithful Kings fans cleared out long before the final buzzer -- the Kings should wake up.
It's 1997 again. Season tickets are fixing to get dumped like charges on Artest's rap sheet.
These guys had better quit messing around and offer fans something they would really want -- a chance to be a Maloof for a day. Or maybe a week? Or a month?
Then Arco Arena would be like the mystic ball yard in the last scene of "Field of Dreams." There would be an endless stream of headlights snaking down Interstate 5 toward the old Kings barn.
The magic would return.
People would come, Joe and Gavin. People would most definitely come.
About the writer: Reach Marcos Bretón at (916) 321-1096 or mbreton@ sacbee.com.
