Some of you, undoubtedly, remember who I am. I joined GSoM when I was 15 years old. I was banned for trolling. I don't remember why I was trolling, it was years ago. But the point is, I'm an OG vet of this website, and I've always been a part of it in some way. Whether I was banned (on several accounts) for trolling (admittedly not very smart people offering up their #hottakes, and I was young.) several excellent posters on this website, or I was lurking, I was here. Reading up on season after season of futility, creating accounts to join in on the fun and then forgetting the passwords because I'm dumb. My point is, there is a group of us who have been participating on this site for years. We've been, on a night in night out basis, offering up our opinion on this team for the better half of 15 years. And on Tuesday, June 16th, the Golden State Warriors hoisted up the Larry O'Brien trophy for the first time in many of our lifetimes. (Probably not you, Sleepy, you're the BEST geezer I know.)
I just wanted to take a few minutes and harken back to the love fostered over those times. I wanted to remember. Because in times like this, it's so easy to forget. So let's take a moment and do that.
- Let's talk about how our site motto, "Unstoppable Baby!" was a joke. How we used it both as a way to laugh at our pain, and how it's now unequivocally true. This season, we were literally and figuratively unstoppable. We were a historically great team. A team that won 16 games in a row. 63 games in the regular season. A team thats resolve didn't even need to be tested in a game 7 scenario in the playoffs. Take one moment, lean back in your chair, and think about that.
- Let's talk about the Bob Suras. The Mookie Blaylocks. The Ike Diogus. The Patrick O'Bryants. The John Starks. The Todd Fullers. The Spaghetti Maggettes. Let's talk about all the draft stupidity and misfortune. The years and years of endless futility. Never forget the time where the only thing we had to look forward to was J-Rich setting the dunk contest on fire. Never forget the times where the only entertaining times were the off nights we pushed a good team to a close loss. The cellar was our home for ages, it was dark, it was cold, and we took solace in each other. Depression wasn't an option because it was a waste of energy. We knew we were going to suck, and rather than hurt, we just laughed.
- Let's talk about GSoM trading cards. TMNT Al Harrington. Captain Stephen Jackson. B Diddy. Money Monta. J-Rich. Let's talk about upsetting the Dallas Mavericks as an 8 seed. Let's talk about watching Chris Cohan blow it all up after making it to the Western Conference Semi's. The pain we all felt when they shipped J-Rich, our patron saint, away. When "Captain" Jack forced a trade and we got the Acie Law era in return for our troubles. When we reverted back to what was our mean for so long.
- Let's talk about Monta hating on Steph. Monta's toxic attitude towards change. Monta's unwillingless to share the spotlight, and Monta's eventual trade. Let's talk about the boo's chorusing throughout the arena after that announcement. Let's talk about Rick Berry trying to save face for Lacob.
- Let's talk about when Atma Brother ONE and Fantasy Junkie were the only content makers for this beautiful site. Back when this was less of a side hustle for the main writers and more of a way of life. When LIL OLE ME created fanshots because not enough others were. Before we had incredible Bram Kincheloe lifeblogs. Before IQ would drop the dopestly formatted game links in history. Before Apricot would drop his coaching knowledge on us on a bi-gamely basis. The growth of this community is almost as incredible as the rocket that Lacob and Co. has strapped to this organization.
- Let's talk about the EvanZ's, the J-RIDAH's and the dinoheaths. The crazy ones who straddle the line between troll and misinformed so excellently. The ones who question your sanity in the best way. The ones who apply stats only if they support their argument and write off any other stat that counters the point they're trying to make. The staunchly stubborn who to this day refuse to admit that trading Monta was a winners move, that David Lee is a bench player on a championship team, or that Andrew Bogut would ever be healthy enough for this day. That Steph's ankles would haunt his entire career. That the night life isn't good enough for game changing players to sign here. And let's exhale and realize that none of it matters anymore.
- Finally, lets talk about what it means to be a champion, and how important it is that now we've reached the top of this pedestal, we behave with the dignity and grace that could only be carried out by a fandom that was served so much humble pie over the years. What it means to have a team full of players that any other team would be lucky to have. What it means to be envied by every other team in the league.
- This goes out to all of you here at GSoM. All of you who were here before this place was so shiny, and it was just a glorified blog. The Sleepy Freuds. The Zorgons. The OptionZero's, Every single person who's contributed any thing on this site, ever. You're all part of this. Old fans and new, we are the 2015 NBA Champions. Nothing, ever, will take this feeling away from us. It's not a time for gloating, or a time for trolling other SB's. It's a time to reflect on what we were for so long, what we are right now, and what it's entirely possible that we'll be in the future. A team with an owner who cares, a coach who has learned by the best of our era, and a team full of likeable men with values and standards anyone could agree with.