I asked a couple of the contributors to send me their gut reactions to the third pick. Here’s what we have:
Derok: The Minnesota Timberwolves: Where repeated kicks to the crotch happens.
College Wolf: I’m devastated. Seriously, it took me a few hours to even make my way back to the computer. I have a million thoughts racing through my head and none are good. I feel like I was tied to a tree for a week and anyone could come up and kick me in the groin as many times as they wish. David Stern did so approximately no less than 4 thousand times. Actually, I’m beyond devastated. I didn’t have my hopes up going into the lottery, but then when I found out we’d be top 3 I was overjoyed. I thought we were destined for a top 2 pick for sure. Guaranteed. Alas, no such luck. We never have such luck. I want to cry. I’d rather have us slipped to 6th instead of 3rd. 3rd is almost the worst possible scenario because we were sooooo close, yet so far. I don’t know if I can stand a month of craptastic speculation regarding what clown we draft at number 3. At least I can take solace in the fact that McHale will actually have to earn his paycheck this upcoming month rather than select Rose or Beasley. Not much of a consolation feeling right there.
All I feel is devastation.
The Old Logo: I felt somewhat like I did in January 1999 when Gary Anderson missed that field goal against the Falcons. I went to NBA City to watch the draft and, since this team has left me with a pessimistic view, I tried not to get excited when the teams were announced for picks 14-7. Even when the Bulls moved up, I still didn’t mind too much. When the Knicks got 6th, I clapped. When the Grizzlies got 5th, I started pounding on the bar. When the Sonics were fourth, I was yelling and hollering like everyone else. The telecast went to commercial and the whole bar was full of smiles and possibilities. ESPN returned from commercial and…BOOM. Wolves, 3rd. It was like a gut shot. I liken it to expecting a Voltron at Christmas and getting a sweater.