I called it!

Yeah, that’s right. I called dibs.

I’d like to thank all the people that made this possible: Larry O’Brien, David Stern, The New Orleans Hornets, and, of course, Mortimer K. Dibs.

Someone out there is already saying, “You can’t call dibs until the season is canceled.” You are thinking shotgun, my friend. Shotgun is for a renewable, transferrable resource, like the right to sit in the passenger seat of a vehicle when the significant other isn’t present. Dibs is for a permanently transferrable right or possession, like the old TV of a friend who just bought an LED TV.

This is clearly a case of dibs.

There are limits to dibs, but the window opened as soon as they canceled the first two weeks of the season; that made it reasonable to expect the same for the season in the natural course of events. This dibs would be upheld in any court in any bar in the United States, a country whose roots lie in blown dibs calls.

I’m not being selfish or foolish here. I’m calling dibs on behalf of New Orleans and the region, the Hornets, and all their fans. These titles aren’t meant for one man. They only have meaning the context of a community.

Of course, we’ll only get the trophy . . . and the title . . . if they cancel the season. If that comes to pass, however, we are golden. So, it’s a win-win for us. We either get some of the season or the title as a minimum. No other franchise in the NBA can make that claim. We are the class of the NBA.

This dibs immediately makes us a premier destination for exhibition games and locked out players while the CBA is still being hammered out. Since we won’t have a team to associate with the title, any player in the area will suffice. As a result, players will flock to town to bask in the golden championship glory. A charity game seems to break out every time the players converge on a city (e.g. Winston-Salem, Miami), so we’re bound to get one. I vote for a benefit for the Arena workers.

Mardi Gras is Februrary 21, 2012 this year. The season, if canceled, will be so before then, which means we can have an entire Mardi Gras parade for a victory parade, which is cool. Just ask the Saints!

With our new found championship pedigree, we will enter the next NBA season with a title history few small market teams have, giving us an immediate advantage as a destination for players. With the other advantages the CBA will confer to the Hornets compared to the old CBA, Chris Paul and other stars will be looking hard at making it two in a row on the bayou.

Season ticket sales will reach the next plateau, whatever that is . . . hmmmm . . . Let’s say 12,000. Sponsorships will rise in value and number. The naming rights of the Arena will increase. We’ll also get a huge picture of me hefting the gold prominently placed in Champions Square.

New owner? New lease? Set ’em, knock ’em down. Once we hold the dibs press conference, the billionaires may get into a 10-car-pile-up racing down to the Hyatt to be the first in line to literally buy a title. Take that, Cuban! Take it!

Speaking of Cuban, I wonder how he feels about losing the title to a team with no budget. And, yes, he would lose the whole thing since he spent no money on any of the players, per his Carl Landry argument last season. Thanks for that, Cube. You’re a peach.

6 bars in the quarter will release different versions of alley-oop-based drinks . . . 27 injured, 3 dead in the first night just from the `catch’ step on those drinks. Wait until the “He’s on fire” version is unveiled the following week!

NFL . . . check!

NBA . . . check!

Who’s next?

The preceeding has been brought to you by the maturity level of the CBA negotiations. Also, there was no Mortimer K. Dibs; the etymology is not nearly so fun.

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