Jehovah's Sonics

Before pulling an unprecedented karaoke doubleheader that involved the Little Red Hen, Bush Gardens and Loverboy's Greatest Hits cranked full blast in a Chevrolet Corsica with a blonde Weekly ad rep at his side, my pal Brad received a knock on the door of his East Ballard homestead. Upon opening that door, Brad discovered a very well-dressed young gentleman who wanted to sell him something. Usually when a well-dressed young gentleman shows up at your home wanting to sell something, that something is religion. This well-dressed young gentlemen at Brad's door was no different: He wanted to sell Brad a multi-game Sonic package -- the religion of basketball. No go, said Brad, a former season ticket holder. He went to last Friday's Indy game and left unimpressed (counterbalance: I felt that to be the most entertaining game of the season thus far).

But all that aside, I'm a bit flabbergasted that, in the Internet age, the Supes' marketing department has resorted to going door-to-door to fill the two thousand or so upper bowl seats that are left empty seemingly every game. Don't connotate "flabbergasted" negatively: I'm actually impressed at this sort of dedication. But it just goes to show how impossible it is to overcome the confluence of I-91, out-of-town owners and a smug, take-sport-or-leave-it urban populous.