A Letter from the Wife of the Thunder Fight Chant Song Guy


Dear Matthias,


Picture me singing this shirtless on the internet to the tune of your stupid Thunder song.



You know what else you can picture Matthias? Picture me living with my mom and you never seeing your children again. Picture an empty house when you come home again from the watching your precious Thunder in the playoffs. I am taking little Kevin, Russell, and Sibaka to start a new life without a shirtless maniac embarrassing them for the rest of their lives.

A few other things are going to change as well. First change? Little Sibaka’s name. Ralph, Sibaka’s name is going to be Ralph just like his grandfather’s. I wasn’t against naming the kids after your favorite basketball players but Sibaka? We agreed on Sergio and that we could shorten in to Serge. You waited till I was whacked out on pain medication after his birth and went ahead and named him without me. Thanks to the large amount of Busch Light in your system and your poor handwriting the only thing they could make out was Sibaka. It’s just like when you wanted to help out and tried writing a check to pay our cable bill to Podcast. I should have left years ago. I can’t believe I had three of your children. The only way I can hope to overcome the 23 chromosomes in them that belong to you is by raising them at my mother’s in Houston.

Yep that’s right. Just like your precious ex-boyfriend James Harden, your family just got traded to Houston. The only thing your are getting in return is an empty home. Matthias, I have three goals in Houston. One, never see you again. Two, get my associates degree in criminology. Three, have Omar Asik or Darly Morey’s baby. Kevin, Russell, and RALPH are getting a sibling that is either going be a monster on the boards or uh, amass a lot of flexibility under the cap and have a deep bench of solid tradable pieces. But they definitely won’t have the kind of father that gets drunk and starts singing topless on internet like a Kardashian. Your obsession with the Thunder has ripped this family apart.

You took the down payment we were going to make on that RV and bought season tickets to the Seattle Sonics in 2007 because you thought it would get you higher on the waiting list when they moved to Oklahoma. You fool. Let’s see what else? Oh, I know. You got a Greg Oden tattoo because you thought you wanted to future proof your back. Then when The Sonics (THE SONICS, we weren’t even sure they were going to come to town yet) drafted Durant you refused to get it covered up. Your one man parade when the Sonics announced they were coming to town was just embarrassing. One person can’t be a parade you were just a drunk running shirtless downtown.

When the Thunder lost last year you were so depressed you didn’t go to work for two weeks. Then you lost your job at the Pick and Pull. Your pregnant wife was stuck working doubles until her water broke in the middle of an overnight shift at the supermarket. It wouldn’t have been that bad but I was the only one working that night so I had to mop up before I could take myself to the hospital. Matthias, your priorities are so far out of whack I don’t even know what to say anymore other than goodbye.


O.K.C. You,




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