Give In, Give Up

If there is a singular question that weighs on the minds of basketball heads the world over, it’s “Why?”

Why did the Pistons trade Chauncey Billups for Allen Iverson? Why did the referee make that call? Why is Jeff Foster taking the last shot? Why isn’t Alexis Ajinca an All-Star yet?  And, a recent question of note: why on earth is Gilbert Arenas making his return to the court with just nine games left in an unsalvageable season?

In most cases, I’m all about answers.  I’m a curious fellow myself, and typically leave no stone unturned in my pursuit of what I deem to be an acceptable answer.

This time around, things are different.  There are several answers to the question, none of which seem worthwhile.  Maybe he’s returning for pride.  Maybe he’s attempting to raise interest in the team and bump ticket sales.  Maybe he’s just trying to get a few games under his belt going into the off-season.  None of those answers is going to mend the wounds of Wizards fans, and none are going to satisfy my own promotion of the forces of reason.  But why are we trying to make sense of a basketball player that, for a myriad of reasons, has ceased to make sense?  Why use common interpretations of logic to reach a conclusion about a player who defies those same standards with his play?

Common sense tells us that players like Arenas will never win a championship.  Frankly, I don’t care.  What matters to me most is returning to Wonderland, because as far as I’m concerned, I’m late for a very important date with the Mad Hatter himself.  Pull-up threes from ridiculous range!  That guilty smirk!  Those unexplainable runners!  Oh, what marvelous things!

All I ask of you, dearest of readers, is for once, ignore what seems logical.  Ignore the voices of reason.  Gilbert Arenas’ career has been exercise after exercise in the depths of impossibility, and I see no more fitting way to return than to a broken team that gains little by his coming.  Let go of that world we cling to so dearly, that dark, analytical place, and give in to the idea that some things happen for no reason at all, or at least no reasons that should concern us.  Gilbert’s coming back, and hopefully the ridiculousness you didn’t even know you missed will follow right behind him.  You can scoff at the notion of a meaningless return at the end of a meaningless season, but what is HP really about if not making nonsense of the sense of that with no meaning?  Madness is the name of the game, ladies and gents, and Gil is the main event of basketball that doesn’t matter.  I’m mad.  You’re mad.

You must be, or you wouldn’t have come here.

Seth Carstens