By Brian Kamenetzky

Not so long ago, fans of the Los Angeles Dodgers, almost to a man, begged for someone to step up and buy their team. Anyone, they argued, would be better than the cold, faceless, corporate automatons at Fox.

Enter Frank McCourt.

We overuse expressions like “It can’t possibly be worse!” particularly in sports. Whether you’re talking about a terrible game, a failed season, or an unfathomably inept owner, it can always be worse. Almost always, at least.

Steve Ballmer, the shiny-domed, pink-faced multi-billionaire who is the new owner of the Los Angeles Clippers may have bought his way into a very rare exception.

That is, assuming the former Microsoft exec …

• makes the playoffs oh, every other year, instead of seven times in 30-plus seasons …
• pays any future ex-coaches in full …
• avoids routinely being sued for discrimination in his non-Clippers business endeavors …
• isn’t weird. Not eccentric-but-ultimately-endearing-old-uncle weird — that’s fine — but said uncle’s creepier, highly unsettling cousin weird …
• doesn’t have his mistress/archivist* record him revealing a plantation-ready worldview of black athletes …

*(where applicable)

If so, he’ll be a massive improvement over Donald Sterling. Heck, if he ticks even half the boxes — particularly the third and fifth ones — it’ll still make for a refreshing leap of positivity. For the bulk of Sterling’s tenure in L.A., he wasn’t simply the worst owner in the NBA, he was the worst in sports.

For 30 years, the Lakers have shared the city with another professional squad, but for most of that time the sheer incompetence of Sterling and his Clippers only highlighted their neighbor’s greater glory. Whether on the floor or off, they’ve almost never had to compete with the Clippers for anything. But while some of the Lakers’ cache is hard-earned and impossible to replicate (thanks to titles, Hall of Famers, and massive brand equity), other things aren’t: the size of the market, the proximity to giant entertainment companies, and the weather, for example. (Rain clouds do not follow NBA’ers around Manhattan Beach if they happen to play for the Clippers.)

Any competently run in-city rival would have exploited those qualities as well, if only by accident. Instead, for most of their history, the Clips have been the league’s No Chance Saloon. Then a funny thing happened. The Clippers started shifting momentum as Sterling stumbled into competent players like Blake Griffin and capable execs like GM Neil Olshey (now in Portland) to build a genuine infrastructure. After David Stern famously gifted the team Chris Paul, the combination of Griffin and CP3 (along with a heap of cash) allowed them to land Doc Rivers.

Playoff disappointments notwithstanding, the Clippers have been legitimized by Paul, Griffin, and Doc, but Sterling has remained the anchor dragging behind the ship. Even in his moments of greatest triumph, limited as they may be, there was always the sense Sterling would screw it up. And justifiably so, because as reported by Yahoo! Sports, he almost screwed it up before V. Stiviano helped him finish the job.

Sterling, even in good times, was someone to be apologized for. Now, “was” is the very pivotal word.

Ballmer arrives with incredible wealth into which he’s clearly not afraid to dip, and enough enthusiasm to say “phenomenal” four times in three sentences. The excitement from Clipper fans long embarrassed by the previous regime also comes at an unusual time, where local faith in the Lakers’ front office is at an all-time low.

The sale of the Clippers is great news for basketball fans in L.A. hoping to see a lasting, high end, in-town rivalry. It’s a clear victory for the NBA, which will benefit from two signature franchises in the country’s second largest market (including one that just sold for $2 billion) while dropping its most cringe-inducing owner. It also can also be good news for the Lakers. The history of the franchise has a natural gravity, one easy for them to wrap themselves in when looking to feel better about the present. It was a big part of the Byron Scott hire, and the pitch to Carmelo Anthony.

History also has the potential to become a crutch, though, one the Lakers lean on to project responsibility for roster construction away from themselves and onto players who Should Feel Honored To Wear The Jersey. It becomes a referendum on how much those players understand and respect tradition and want the challenge of being the face of basketball’s most important franchise, as opposed to one of, say, roster construction or the front office’s ability to present a vision.

Having real, genuine competition from someone capable of selling the perks of L.A. equally effectively might nudge the Lakers towards more creative ways of team building, the type they started showing with the Jeremy Lin trade but seemed to abandon quickly after. Or at the very least, to avoid leaning too heavily on their past in building their future.

The Hot Talk question will become whether the Clippers can flip the town, painting some red, white, and blue over all that purple and gold. In the small picture, the answer is yes. They can steal a lot of shine and reel in younger, still pliable basketball fans without the baked-in dedication to the Lakers and Kobe. The Clippers will win more games over the next few seasons than the Lakers. Many more. They can be the hip ticket.

In the big picture, though, the Clippers can’t weave themselves into the fabric of the city as the Lakers have without years upon years of sustained, title-consuming success. Tom Hanks is still Tom Hanks, even while others grace the cover of Us Weekly. It is, and will stay, a Lakers town.

But “Who owns L.A.?” is the wrong question to ask, because the answer isn’t very relevant to the on-court products. What matters is how Ballmer’s presence impacts the business of winning for both teams. There are plenty of questions surrounding Jim Buss’ strategic vision, but writing the Lakers off would be absurd.** They still have well-funded ownership wholly dedicated to the city, its fans, and championships. They are a massively relevant brand, albeit one that’s lost its monopoly on L.A.’s cachet.

** Were Dr. Buss still alive, the Lakers would still almost surely be rebuilding in one form or another, it would just look different. This is “circle of life” stuff.

So, fascinating days are coming. Little brother has never looked better. Big brother is down, but is still big brother. Both are now run by unproven ownership. Both possess all the resources necessary to succeed over the long haul. The way pro basketball operates in Los Angeles has changed for good, and this all will make for incredible fun to watch.