Team Dreamin' 2011: WARRIORS

At No Regard, we love basketball. We love the spectacle and strategy of the game, but sometimes the league's lack of imagination confounds and disappoints us. Call us optimists, visionaries, or kids who watched too much Space Jam, but we have ideas. Damn are we gonna share 'em.

The Face of the Modern Warriors Fan

It's been tough to get excited about the Warriors since that magical 2007 playoff run. The Post-Boom-Dizzle Era has been one dangerous lab test, Don Nelson’s desperate search for the elusive potion he accidentally concocted four years ago to take San Francisco on a miraculous ride. Bygones are bygones, and recently the famously fiery Bay Area fans have had little reason to get fired up.

Is there hope in the Golden State? Absolutely. Interest is waning for the Warriors, but we know just the guy to give new owner Peter Guber the kickstart he needs.

Mr. Guber, have you ever met Paul Vasquez?

If you’ve had Internet access this month you have, although you’d probably know him as HungryBear9562, or more likely, Double Rainbow Guy.

That’s right, we think you should hire Mr. Vasquez to do this season’s nightly televised play-by-play for Warriors games.


Out there in Oakland, the offseason moves have been less than splashy. Most notably, they managed to steal power forward and human glass of milk David Lee, away from his beloved New York City. There were also moves to shed useless contracts in order to encourage construction around Stephen Curry and Monta Ellis. 

Paul Vasquez, imagined here
repping Steph Curry old school.

But if the team had Mr. Vasquez in their corner, none of those stories would matter.  They would immediately have the most compelling telecast in the country. Who cares which team has Kobe or LeBron, they’ve got the Double Rainbow Warrior!  Yes, he may be a one-season wonder, but that’s all we’re asking for.  Just think about it:

“Jeremy Lin to Udoh for the layup, Whoa man! Wow! Whoah my god! Oh my god! Woo! Ekepe Udoh all the way!  Ekepe Udoh all the way across the sky!”  

People love seeing a sportscaster get swept up in the moment, especially when it involves tears.  Vasquez would cry once a quarter, and would lead existential debates in place of a halftime show. 

And when his little sideshow came to an end, he would give us the greatest exit in the history of sports journalism.  Imagine an April Night in the Oracle Arena. Vasquez is calling a game late into overtime.  Ellis is trying to get the ball to Lee in the paint.  Suddenly Vasquez, in a mushroom-induced stupor, rises from the score table, wanders onto the court, and snatches the ball out of Monta’s hands. He dribbles around, announcing his every move as shocked players watch on.  

“Vasquez get’s the inbound! He dribbles down court, oh my God.  Oh my God.  Can he do it? He shoots, HE SCORES.”

He would toss one from half-court, miss badly, then trot smiling into the locker room tunnel, never to be heard from again, a bright flash in a strange pan.

The Future (hopefully)