Haul of Wonders, NBA Pavilion

The Kings as Globetrotters, flummoxing the hapless and unhip.

In hindsight, I misjudged the madding crowd I thought would flock to see this unique piece of basketball art in the Haul of Wonders collection. The pavilion I built is much too cavernous for this piece, which is more appropriate for a flat file (where I found it) or a Dumpster®™ (where it belongs, probably).

I unearth it in (dis)honor of the Sacramento Kings, who appear likely to become the (deep breath) Los Angeles Kings of Anaheim But For Basketball Not Hockey (Though On Some Nights It May Be Difficult To Distinguish). The majority owners, the Maloof family, prefer profiting from being the third-tier team, behind the Clippers, to moving to a city (Seattle, Vancouver) that lost an NBA team but at least has an arguably better venue than Sacramento's Arco Arena (now Power Balance Pavilion, named for a product of dubious worth; the irony is piling up like snowdrifts … The Power Balance people, upon learning the Kings might leave, are having a public "Hang on a minute …" moment.)

(I was sure the Kings would head for Las Vegas, where the Maloofs have the Palms Casino; the team could truly become America's NBA team, catering to the unusual model of having a different crowd each night: Tourists bored with the slot machines. But Las Vegas is sucking wind these days, and the Palms is wilting.)

A detail before I committed to the overall rough.

In need/want of a new arena, the Maloofs are ready to move on. Attempts to build a new arena have floundered; voters have been unwilling to support funding (though many, many other events use the arena; its nickname for concerts has been "Echo Arena"); the Maloofs have apparently never indicated how much they'd share in the cost of a new arena. A big proposal to switch the state fairgrounds with the arena site with the redeveloped railroad yard fell through when the fair board nixed the idea. The days have long passed when fans might have opened their wallets while the Kings were contenders. Or something like that. To tell you the truth, I don't really care.

I get it that the Kings' departure will tear the heart out of a fan base, and relegate Sacramento to that horrible, horrible state of a City Without an NBA Team. I also understand that the Kings and ownership poured massive amounts into community and charity work, and that will be lost. But I've never followed the Kings. It's not just basketball or sports in general: I rank among the least participatory citizens of my city, of any city. If cities were able to screen prospective residents, I would be banished to some Ted Kaczynski-caliber cabin in the woods, and my disposable income garnished.

A rough before I committed to the detail for the rough … huh?

As I age, I find my sports interest dwindling to whatever team my kids were playing on, the San Francisco Giants, and whatever team plays the Giants.

This project was apparently for a former co-worker who might have wanted it for a gift; I'm sure the finished piece is in the afore-mentioned Dumpster.®™ This is from a piece of vellum and it's rough, because I was just using it to block in the figures. I later traced over the vellum through graphite paper, transferring the rough images to cold press board, after which I would brush and ink the details and add color, probably with colored inks.

This was back when the Kings had the powder blue/red/white color scheme and crown-on-basketball logo (at center court) — the throwback look, as marketers say — before the more aggressive purple/black scheme now.

I did it in those days when I was desperate to convince people I could draw and that they should pay me for it, and I took little or no compensation in the vain hope that the recipient would pick up my subliminal signals that I want them to have a rich uncle/publisher who would see my work and hire me as a magazine staff illustrator. Marketing is not my strong suit.

Now we'll all wait to see what the Kings do, and the city's mayor, former NBA player Kevin Johnson, stands at the front of the crowd. I'll be at home.