It’s that time of year again. Christmas is over but your tree is still up and you can’t give back the extra slice of pie or three that you ate mindlessly while watching Die Hard for the 38th time. It’s done. You did it. You’re five pounds heavier and there’s nothing you can do about it except a) eat less tomorrow or b) continue stuffing your face, pretending that the void in your heart is just extra unfilled stomach space.
The last few days of the year are especially dangerous. With the hope of 2015 still 72 hours away, the present allots a rather unforgiving chunk of time enabling you to wallow in your weakness and self-loathing for just a little bit longer. Three more days before tradition suggests you resolve to change your ways and unshackle your soul from the vices that haunt you like the ghost of Jacob Marley.
More of this. Less of that. No more of this. A lot more of that. Fruits and vegetables. That sort of thing.
Then again maybe you’re only feeling the “happy holiday” feelings because you’ve got it all together. Maybe you’re radiating saint-like thankfulness for having spent Christmas with those you love. Heck, maybe this was finally the year you got all the gifts you wanted, or climbed the corporate ladder, or found the love of your life. If 2014 was everything you dreamed it’d be, give yourself a pat on the back and sleep easy knowing that baby Jesus is proud of you.
No matter where you’re at in your karmic evolution or how happy you are with your current state of affairs this holiday season, one thing’s a given: You’re a Minnesota Timberwolves fan. That’s why you’re reading this. That’s why you’re here. That’s why this is a thing.
If you’re looking for a bleak take on the Wolves, though, you might as well just head over to the forums around the internet, because I’m not selling that here. So the Wolves are 5-23, and right now things aren’t looking so great. It’s true, things could definitely be better, but still I remain hopeful, as per usual.
So why the continued optimism? Well, it’s funny actually. Last year around this time, before I was writing for Dunking with Wolves, I was just dinking around on basketball forums doing my thing, and just for fun, I decided to write a fake Christmas wish list letter to Santa Claus.
Yesterday, I was reviewing my old forum posts and I stumbled upon said Wolves wish list.
This is what I wrote:
All I Want for Christmas
I have begun to despise my basketball team. As you know, I’m a Minnesota Timberwolves fan, and I must say that these past 25 years haven’t been easy. To make matters worse, within the last year it’s become evident that Kevin Love doesn’t want to be here. His poor attitude is poisoning our entire team. Excuse me for the smack-talk, but I think he’s sort of acting like a doorknob. The fact that he has a very punch-able face doesn’t help matters much.
Santa, I have an idea. It’s kind of crazy, but I think it could be good for our future. You know Andrew Wiggins, right? Of course you do. Anyway, I think Wiggins would be a great fit for our team. I’m pretty certain that he’s going to be a top three pick in next summer’s NBA Draft, and I think with Love as bait we have what we need to get Wiggins as the centerpiece in the trade.
I know it could work, but we just need Wiggins to be on a team that KLove wouldn’t mind being traded to. I know this sounds like a stretch, but if you could somehow pull a few strings to make it happen that would be magical.
Oh, and Rick Adelman never plays Shabazz Muhammad. If you could find a way to make sure ‘Bazz gets more minutes that would be terrific.
Knuckle pushups, my ass…
You see? My friggin’ wish came true! I know things aren’t perfect right now, but Santa delivered the goods and that’s gotta count for something. Love is gone, Wiggins is here, and Bazzy is doing his thing. We may have a long way to go, but it’s just nice to know that we have Jolly Old Saint Nick on our side.
Don’t get too excited or anything, but this year I asked Santa for three-point shooting and Karl-Anthony Towns. I don’t want to push my luck, but I think from here on out it’s just a matter of staying off the naughty list.
Long live Kris Kringle!