Once again, the Sacramento Kings defy the odds and remain a damaged playoff team for the seventh year in a row. Without precedent, the Kings now stand as the only team in NBA history to ever achieve the playoffs so many years in a row without ever having a complete squad available. This time, it will be entering the post season with not one (Bobby Jackson), not two (Brad Miller), but three (Peja Stojakovich) key players either out with injury or coming back after extremely long rehabilitation periods, so will be rusty beyond imagination even if available.
Now, the actual reason can be revealed. Twenty years ago, the owners of the Kings were surprised at how cheap the land was they had just purchased where Arco Arena stands today. Such a bargain, it turns out, came with a stiff, long-term price tag.
The Sacramento Valley had been home to various indigenous Indian tribes prior to John Sutter first landing on the American River in 1840 and starting his trading post. Since that date, any serious construction work in the area occasionally unearthed an Indian burial ground. Discovered at the time, but kept quiet so as to keep the work going, Arco Arena was being built right over the major religious burial ground of the region. Surprisingly cheap land was suddenly made quite apparent as to why the previous owners, a near bankrupt land development company, partied until into the next year after the deal was made.
Since this desecration occurred, the revenge of the latent poltergeists emerged. First, by causing possibly the most embarassing NBA team in years to play there for 14 seasons. This finally got boring to the spirits below the hardwood. They allowed the team to finally place a competitive team in Arco. This is when they really found true enjoyment. The main ghost, a Kywek Indian Chief named Mania of the Laker, found that by providing the illusion of competition for the hated occupants above him, he could do strange manipulations of events that had no other explanation then his horrible presence, though they could only speculate about it.
First, he weakened the resolve of the players, making them cringe any time any form of the great Chief's name were mentioned. Then, he could manipulate events just enough to ensure the success of the year were drowned in a sea of moans just at the moment of extreme triumph. The Chief's daughter, Ro-Bertwhorey, was especially fond of using these tricks to create loss where triumph once looked assured. The Chief's son, Me-assed Frethroos, had his own way of tickling his funny bone.
But it was the Chiefs magical medicine man, Suffering Buffalo Groinpull, who found the best way to annoy the hated Tenants of the Arco Tepee. A nudge there, an undercut here, just a little slip over there, and those so-called Kings of the hardwood plowed into his spells. They would collapse under all kinds of strange ways to do injury to themselves. Breaking a leg for no reason, pulling a muscle on a little jump, getting a knee wiped out simply by turning a body a bit. Nothing to seem so serious as to warrant months and months of healing, but it would take that long and longer.
I have spent the last week going out to this sacred ground, dressed as an Indian Exorcist, doing my ritual chantings and praying to the Great Indian Spirit, trying to release these spirits so they can leave us in peace.
I must be doing it wrong. It keeps raining just on me, and I get attacked nightly by fleas.
