Readers,
I once turned down an offer to go see Pippin because I wanted to watch a Houston Rockets game on a hotel TV. I know what you’re thinking, but you have to understand. This was James Harden fresh off a trade from the OKC Thunder, the number one option on a lost 2011 Rockets squad that finished near the bottom of the Western Conference. Also, I was not about to go see Pippin if it wasn’t Scottie. Dealbreaker. Ten-year-old me knew what I liked, and nothing could get in the way of watching that game.
Let us be your early 2010s Houston Rockets team. We’ve got power forward Trevor Ariza in Griffin Santopietro’s poem about a Massachusite pond, gritty point-god Patrick Beverly in Samuel Rosenberg’s hot take on the Ward 1 election results, and of course, the James Harden in Mary Ghebremeskal’s profile on the winners of Yale’s performative male contest. Plus, Kira Tang tumbles down an Amber Liu rabbit hole, Julian Raymond considers the deaths of Zach Cregger’s horror flick Weapons, and Diego Del Aguila mystifies us once again as he writes of memory and the music of his parents.
Trust us, we definitely know what you’re thinking now. The Houston Rockets didn’t win a championship then, so why is the Herald selling itself short? Well, first of all, 2018 should’ve been their year. And: the Rockets never tried to be anything they weren’t. Players like Harden had the greenlight for anything—whatever shot or look they wanted. If you’ve ever seen The Beard drain the shot clock from beyond the arc only to put up and somehow sink a 30-foot stepback dagger, you know exactly what I’m talking about. It wasn’t necessarily winning basketball, but my God was it fun.
That’s what we hope the Herald is for you all. We are an open invitation to experiment with your game, to cook up that special sort of creative sauce that only simmers up when you work with friends. We’re here for those 30-foot threes, for the around-the-back passes, for the monster dunks and the blistering energy of a fast break. So here’s a few combinations of words that you might find interesting, perhaps a little hopeful, and most of all, daring.
Most Daringly,
Oscar and Will
