Saturday, September 09, 2006

Happy Birthday to Us

As of yesterday, SpursDynasty is a year old. Whoopty-fuckin'-doo. (Or is that "whoopty-fuckin'-DO"? Based on the results of this Google search and this Google search, the Internet consensus seems to be "doo." I'll go with the wisdom of crowds on this one.)


“RursRynasty, a rear rold? Roopty-Ruckin’-ROOOOOOO!”

We here at SpursDynasty started with a humble dream: to express our passion for the Spurs creatively, justify our obsession by having something concrete to show for all the time we spend watching games and reading Spurs-related miscellanea, enhance our enjoyment of the Golden Age of the Spurs franchise, connect with some fellow Spurs fans, and entertain a few folks along the way. That's basically what I had in mind at least. Maybe the other guys are bent on world domination or something, but if they are, they'd better find another route to it.

In the past year, we've achieved those modest goals and even had some fun doing it, but we plan to be a bit more ambitious this next season. The frustration of the way last season ended, or should I say, scrotum-crushing existential despair, has only made us hungrier for Spurs glory. We plan to play our karmic role in helping the Spurs get back on top, where they belong.


I will never, ever let Mark Cuban convince me to “try out this Tibetan scrotal massager” again.

First, you can expect more people to post more shit more consistently. Michael, our Senior Ottoman Psycho Analyst, debuted a couple of weeks ago, and we're looking forward to all of the froth-flinging - intelligent, informed, and insightful froth-flinging, that is - that he'll be doing for us this season. He's a prolific one. And he has a lot more time on his hands for writing, one suspects, than the rest of us old married fogeys here at the Dynasty. (By the way, you can also check out his work on Pounding the Rock, one of our officially approved Dynastic sites, under the pseudonym “Aaron Stampler.”)

Second, we’ll be improving the site with a format change and adding some permanent content to complement our blogging. We might post some audio rants and even do a bit of drunken podcasting. Suffice it to say that the SpursDynasty experience will be a bit more dynamic this next season. Anyone who reads this site probably knows better than to expect these changes to happen overnight, but we’ll get around to all of these things sooner or later, so keep checking in.

Third, we’re taking concrete measures to help the Spurs be as successful as possible this season. No more relying on this pansy-ass “hoping” and “cheering” and "voodoo" bullshit to get the job done. Our stable of Dynastic Whores will ensure that the boys are relaxed and focused for each game. (E-mail me at the address in my profile if you’re interested in applying for membership in the stable. Experience with childbirth or similar capacity-expanding activities a must.) We have bellboys and cooks at the best hotels in San Antonio on our payroll to ensure that the Spurs have a proper home-court advantage throughout the season. We’ve paid off the NBA’s ref scheduler to make sure that Mr. Richard Bavetta won’t be Dicking Timmy over this year. And finally, we’ve hired Mr. T to keep an eye on Jackie Butler’s development and make sure he doesn’t start acting like a damn fool. After all, it’s easy to get dazzled by the bright lights and crazy nights of San Antonio, and before you know it, you’re homeless, wandering up and down Market Street giving hand jobs for crack. Has anyone seen Žarko Paspalj recently?



I chose to pick on this poor former Yugoslav because he’s less likely to sue us than Willie Anderson...and because I couldn’t find a photo of Uwe Blab. (By the way, for all you Žarko fans out there, check out this recent article on what he's been up to since his days with the Spurs.)

Needless to say, we can’t wait to taste the fruits of these efforts, both in glory and domination for the Spurs and in pain and humiliation for the rest of the League – just as long as that fruit isn’t from room service at La Mansión.

YEEEEE-HAW!


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