The Feel-Good Story of the Decade

When I was younger, my mom would sometimes make trips back to Pakistan where she grew up. And, a story familiar to many second generation Americans like myself, she would often return with stacks of bootleg DVDs of popular movies. One such trip happened around 2012; she went overseas to shop for my sister’s wedding, but my mom still found time to bring back a bunch of DVDs in flimsy cases for us.

2012 was a bit of an in-between year for the Sacramento Kings and the fandom. The fans stymied the Maloofs’ attempt to relocate the franchise to Anaheim, leaving the Kings’ disgraced former owners quietly mulling over their next move. The Seattle relocation saga hadn’t kicked off, but there was still a sense of unease in the air. On the court, the franchise still sputtered along, six years into the Playoff drought.

So it was against this backdrop that one of the DVD covers my mom brought back caught my eye. The movie was Slumdog Millionaire, but the cover was plastered with a critic quote in bold that has stuck with me throughout these years:

“THE FEEL-GOOD FILM OF THE DECADE”

If you haven’t seen it, Slumdog Millionaire is about Jamal Malik, a kid growing up in the slums of India who the universe collectively beat down and humiliated, leaving him destitute and in tatters before putting everything back together and making all his dreams come true in one glorious, hair-raising moment.

The Kings’ Playoff drought at the time wasn’t the behemoth it would eventually become, but it wasn’t a garden-variety drought either; six years would still be the second-longest Playoff drought in the NBA today. Even at that time, ten long years ago, I imagined what it would be like for the Kings to make the Playoffs again in Sacramento. Return of the cowbells. Seeing “Go Kings!” on a city bus marquee. Passing by City Hall decked out in purple. Reading about the mayor’s prideful bet on a Kings victory. It would be a return to the glory years of the early-aughts, but it would mean so much more given how close the city was to losing its team.

Now THAT would be the feel-good story of the decade.

We all know what happened next. The franchise came a metaphorical yard away from relocating to Seattle and continued to get everything wrong on the court. Players, executives, coaches would come and go. The drought was all-encompassing.

And yet hope persisted. The city and fanbase came together to save the Sacramento Kings. We cheered for every player to don purple and black, powering through every franchise move that left us devastated. We were crushed about Isaiah Thomas, but wholeheartedly welcomed Darren Collison. We were crushed about Mike Malone, but welcomed George Karl. We were crushed about DeMarcus Cousins, but welecomed Buddy Hield. We were crushed about Scott Perry, but welcomed Brandon Williams. We were crushed about Dave Joerger, but welcomed Luke Walton. We were crushed about Luka Doncic, but welcomed Marvin Bagley. We were crushed about Tyrese Haliburton, but welcomed Domantas Sabonis.

Would our Jamal Malik moment ever come?

Yes.

And Hollywood could not script this any better.

Add a coach in Mike Brown, once thought of the next big thing in the coaching ranks, a protege of Gregg Popovich and Rick Carlisle, only to have his career tanked by a tumultuous stint with the Lakers where he basically became a meme.

A star center in Sabonis, son of a basketball legend, but still traded three times before he turned 26 despite his lottery pick pedigree and two-time All-Star credentials, leaving him without a stable basketball home.

A franchise guard in De’Aaron Fox, once regarded as an up-and-coming star, but was forgotten after toiling for years in a futile organization, as newer, trendier guards stole the headlines and eyeballs.

And a stable of supporting characters all hungry to prove themselves, from a respected wing formerly discarded by a dynasty in Harrison Barnes, a shooter who was boxed into a role but showed he can do so much more in Kevin Huerter, a trio of talented former lottery selections trying to prove their worth in Malik Monk, Davion Mitchell, and Trey Lyles.

And then there’s you, dear reader, a member of this amazing basketball community: team staffers and employees who didn’t know what would happen to their jobs through relocation and organizational chaos; media members dutifully putting pen to paper throughout all of the losing and humiliation; and the diehard fanbase that never gave up, odds and history be damned. The Beam isn’t just a fun gimmick; its a rallying point for all of our collective energy, visible for miles and miles. There’s a reason the whole country can’t take its eyes off that crazy light, why LIGHT THE BEAM has rained in so many arenas around the association.

THIS is the feel-good story of the decade. Its redemption. Its validation. Its celebration. Its a unique experience that has never happened before and may never happen again. We’ll be telling the story of this euphoric season for the rest of our lives.

Cheers to you all for earning this moment. I’ll see you at Golden 1 Center in the Playoffs. Long live the Beam Team.