I am bad enough at enough occupations that it’s often more efficient for me to list those things I’m actually good at. I am good at getting girls who were supposedly interested to ignore me. I am good at working while hung over (in fairness I work for the State). I am, as any number of readers of this blog can attest, very good at referencing quotes, titles and motifs I remember from college English courses. And I am, occasionally, able to accurately predict the outcome of a given sports’ franchise’s season. This last one in particular isn’t particularly a talent, particularly when the team whose performance you’re prognosticating is your team. I would guess of the percentage of people who had George Mason in their Final Four nationally, 99.9% of those people were either George Mason enrollees or alumni; the other .01% confused George Washington with George Mason or were lying.

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As has been discussed previously on these pages, when I’m not not fulfilling my duties as Associate Editor of Sactown Royalty, I am "working" for the state of California. There are myriad reasons why working for the state is a sterling job. Four furlough days a month immediately comes to mind (and yes, I realize we’re all over paid anyway, I read the comments at the Bee, it should be noted my family writes a bulk of those comments) but in close competition is the painfully Catch 22esque bureaucracy I am forced to navigate on an hourly basis. Even if you aren’t in civil service you’re probably all too familiar to that which I’m referring. It’s the sort of painful Colonel Cathcart logic that comes down from Administration and tells you the soda machine in the basement that’s been broken for a decade can’t be fixed because of an outstanding contract or that your reimbursement request for the EconoLodge in Riverside can’t be processed because Econo Lodge is actually two words, not one. Think cover sheets on TPS reports. The point is no one likes a yard duty, or as Michael Scott’s relationships have shown us, only a Dwight Schrute likes a yard duty, and as a consequence I’ve always been a bit uneasy about being this page’s ombudsman, even if that title and task were self appointed.

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Uncertainty is a particularly unique human emotion. Realistically it could be argued uncertainty isn’t an emotion at all, but for the sake of this, imagine if you will. Uncertainty’s uniqueness stems from the fact that it is a rather cohesive collection of other disparate emotions: apprehension, anticipation, fear, hope. It is uncertainty that makes often otherwise mundane activities consistently exciting: public speaking, sex, finance. And it is uncertainty that we were unfairly thrust into last night. What exacerbates this specific uncertainty is our inability to control it. We could not control the Lottery and we can not control the Lottery’s consequent results. These aren’t necessarily bad things, but to a fan base looking for some sort of cathartic outcome to a brutal basketball season in an otherwise brutal year, they sure don’t seem like particularly positive things either. But as the bitter disappointment of last night dissipates a bit let's sift through the wreckage and examine certain certainties.

This is not the end of basketball in Sacramento. Now I’m not saying the end of basketball in Sacramento isn’t a possibility. But it isn’t going to be because of last night. No offense to Blake Griffin, who is without question a unique talent, but missing out on him isn’t exactly missing out on LeBron. And no offense to Kings’ fans, who are some of the more adroit in the NBA, but there wasn’t going to be some sort of onslaught at the Arco Arena Box Office this fall to see some 20 year old kid from Oklahoma. This team and town’s issues are more complicated and deep seeded. It seems like the potential selling of Cal Expo or the collapse of the residential real estate market and consequent adverse effect on our discretionary income may be a bit more damaging. Kevin Durant didn’t exactly save basketball in Seattle. But wait, you’ll say, the Sonics issues weren’t related to attendance. Even with Sacramento’s attendance swooning, neither are ours. And unless Blake Griffin is an expert on urban infill development his presence wasn’t going to change that. If bad draft luck and subsequent attendance apathy expedited team moves the Grizzlies would have been sent to Austin 5 years ago.

We’ve spent, in fairness I’ve spent, the past few years waiting for Petrie to become Petrie again. Since the Artest trade he has largely been unable to be that. Handcuffed by both Maloof meddling and his own questionable contracts. Now the coaching decision is his (and the Thibodeau interview shows reassuring flexibility in his own dogma) and that 4th pick has afforded Petrie the one thing he’s always thrived with, options. To Petrie this draft is now a blank canvas. Rather it is his blank canvas. And given the probable volatility of this draft (discussed quite insightfully and exhaustively in this space in the past two days) Sacramento’s situation is not nearly as Edvar Munch like bleak as it appeared last night. Rubio isn’t a certainty, but he’s not not a certainty either. Which makes his drafting a certain uncertainty.

Lastly we’ll all be here, working ourselves through this. All’s not lost. Of course I spent last night drinking my youngest brother's Natural Light while watching DeMar DeRozan clips on You Tube.

In fairness, though, that's how I spend most of my Tuesday night's, but yesterday it felt particularly poignant.

I’m sure many of you have wondered, and by many of you I of course mean none of you, why I am referred to as "Associate Editor" of this site. I write pieces sporadically, my comments are usually reserved exclusively for the contribution of double entendres and the only Kings jersey I own is of Jason Williams. Part of the reason, at least the part of the reason not related to under the table payouts, is that I am supposed to be this Blogs comment commentator. A job I have not pursued with the zeal necessary in part because of my actual job. But now my ass may be getting furloughed and, given that admission, the perception on this page will from today forward be that I don’t work anyway (isn’t State Worker an oxymoron?) so I’ve decided to attempt a State of the Mid-Season for this page’s participants. I am doing it today because next weekend I will be in Phoenix for the All Star break attempting to convince girls I’m Luke Ridnour. Which is a terrible idea, in part because I look nothing like Luke Ridnour, and in part because it’s Luke Ridnour.

I am breaking this down into relevant sections, lest it read with all the coherence of Pookey’s profile quote.

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