No Regard Presidential Previews: Brooklyn Nets (Thomas J. Whitmore)

Oh the season. Oh the season! Election or NBA, both are upon us. We're getting into the spirit by bringing you our season previews (with a little help from the presidents). One per day for the next 30 days—which will bring us to the Day of Reckoning. So please join us on the campaign trail as we shake hands, kiss babies and sink jumpers.

"We are fighting for our right to live. To exist. And should we win the day, the Fourth of July will no longer be known as an American holiday, but as the day the world declared in one voice: We will not go quietly into the night! We will not vanish without a fight! We're going to live on! We're going to survive! Today we celebrate our Independence Day!" - Thomas J. Whitmore

A fictional team deserves a fictional president. But since they are the team I root for, the Brooklyn Nets get the greatest fictional president in this country's fictional history: Thomas J. Whitmore.

Whitmore led his country, and (in Roland Emmerich's xenophobic world view) the rest of the planet, through dark, dangerous times. The only way he was in a position to do this, though, was by narrowly escaping certain death in the flamboyant destruction of the White House, the most famous explosion of all time. You'll never catch me saying an unkind word about Jersey, but the Izod Center was a well-known awful home for the Nets for some time. To protect the brave men and women who loved and cared for the team, the Nets had to get out. Grab the kids, grab the dog, grab a world-class point guard and get out.

Even after escape, the odds were long against Whitmore and his country. They needed a plan and a little luck. But first, Whitmore needed to rally the troops, who were not really troops, but a rag-tag group of refugees. Perfect.

You know the Independence Day Speech. You watch the scene every July 4th because you know how to celebrate all that is good and just in this oppressive world. It's the finest example of presidential oration ever committed to tape. It's the rally cry to rally all future rally cries. Whitmore's words urged those fighter pilots to gladly and determinedly fly into unknown oblivion, equal parts possible glory and possible death. The incredibly deft marketing propaganda that the Nets organization has produced is Whitmore's speech. The Nets have convinced thousands of folks with disposable income that this as-of-now fictional cause is where they need to place their faith and allegiance. Much of a borough—and a few pockets of other metro area citizens—has bought into something that doesn't exist yet and that may very easily cause them suffering in the future. (Obviously, the Nets have been around for many years at this point, but the Nets team/experience that we are now being promised is brand new and, until the actual team plays an actual game on their actual court, not real.)

What comes next is what matters, though. The planes are in the air. Instructions have been given. Randy Quaid is sobering up. The plan is underway. Jeff Goldblum and Will Smith are inside the mothership. Now? It's time for the Nets to get on the court and prove that, indeed, they are real thing.

Rushed Pull-Up Jumpers

Pokemon who the team should adopt as its new mascot: Unown

Headline we'll be most sick of reading: "Hello Brooklyn"

Headline we're most looking forward to: "Reggie Evans Spends Entire Game Shaking Hands of Every Fan in Arena, Boosts Morale"

If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you enter the pearly gates?: "This is really fun, but I was really hoping it'd work in Jersey."