An open letter to Kevin Durant
“If you choose to go, I want to say good luck.”
Originally published: July 3, 2016
There was a time when I didn’t know basketball.
Long ago, before a professional sports franchise in Oklahoma was even a thought, I was a soccer guy.
When Hurricane Katrina happened in 2005, the southern portion of this country saw nothing but despair and heartache. Sports seemed like a meaningless side note — which it was — to what was happening in Louisiana and the surrounding states at the time. But amidst the darkness, a group of basketball players came to a small town in Oklahoma, giving everyone a way to look away from the pain.
The New Orleans Hornets came to Oklahoma City to play out their 2005–06 season in an under-developed Ford Center for a town that was seen by many as a college town. The Hornets enjoyed sell-out after sell-out and became the talking point of the town. More importantly, the Hornets allowed hundreds of thousands of people to escape the grind of everyday life and cheer for five men working together to win a basketball game. They accomplished what sports are supposed to.
The Hornets gave birth to a new kind of love in Oklahoma, and also a new kind of thirst. Oklahomans finally had a unifying team. It didn’t matter that they weren’t winning championships, they were ours, and we loved them for it.
That was my first real memory of basketball.
In 2006 I began to cheer on Dwyane Wade. Remember that team? Those guys were so fun to watch, especially White Chocolate.
I cheered on Dwyane and the Heat, sure, but being thousands of miles away, I found it hard to establish a true connection. You know, that emotional bond you have to your team. Your players. It was hard even to build that type of deep relationship with the Hornets. For all the love, I knew they would eventually go home, rightfully so. They weren’t ours.
When they left, we didn’t know when our next shot would be to cheer on a professional sports team, if we would ever get one.
Then, like magic, you came.
You were just a young kid from Maryland, who played college ball at that place down south. Yeah, you know, that rivalry. But it didn’t matter.
You were ours.
The first year was rough. It was hard for everyone, but we believed in you. You believed in your team and you believed in us. From the first moments of your arrival in Oklahoma City there was this special bond between Kevin Durant, the person, and Oklahoma. I won’t pretend to know you personally, our paths have unfortunately never crossed (I hope someday they will), but I won’t concede that I haven’t watched you grow as a man.
As Oklahoma City has grown as a place to live, you have grown as a man. One helping the other, like a beautiful relationship. No amount of type can thank you for that, for what you have done for this city, this state.
I would like to believe that we have helped you. You are a family man above all else, simply put. You believe in helping those around you, and you have shown great pride in seeing others succeed. You believe in community, your greatest contribution to our state will forever be opening your heart to it. And you put God first. Those are all qualities that make a man, not just a basketball player, truly legendary.
We know that these things didn’t just come about by chance, but rather because of Ms. Pratt raising you to be the man we get to cheer on today. And we know her story because you allowed us to share it with you in one of the most touching moments I have ever witnessed.
But it’s not by chance that you arrived in Oklahoma, a place whose core beliefs coincide so strongly with yours. It was meant to be, cheesy as it may sound.
So for the last eight years we have grown to love you. We have cheered you. We have marveled in the extraordinary ability you possess to play the game of basketball. We have cried with you and felt pain alongside you. Truly, we have cherished our time with you.
Since you came to Oklahoma I have grown to love basketball and everything that it means. I have not missed the chance to see you wear a Thunder jersey in the last three seasons because, honestly, I didn’t know which time would be your last. I didn’t want to miss it.
I think deep down we all knew this day was coming. One day you will leave us, but you will never leave us. I’m not writing you to beg you to stay in Oklahoma. I want to see you win, I want to see you achieve your dreams and I want to see you continue to be a light for others, just as you have been for us.
I want to say thank you.
Thank you for giving us eight years of your life and your heart. Thank you for giving us eight years of your blood, sweat, and tears. For eight years of dedication and eight years of being THE Mr. Reliable. Thank you for caring about us as much as we have cared about you.
If your journey takes you away from Oklahoma we will still love you. We will not burn your jersey, we will not curse your name and we will not boo you when you return. It will be difficult, sure, to see you with another city, to see another fan base get to cheer you on, but we won’t forget. We won’t forget when you couldn’t watch Russ shoot those free throws. We won’t forget when you donated your time and your resources to help Moore. We won’t forget your one-handed “Dallas Dagger” (that’s what I like to call it) in the 2012 postseason. We won’t forget your speech.
If you choose to go, I want to say good luck. I hope you find what you’re searching for and I’m sorry it wasn’t here.
Thank you Kevin Durant.
