By Scott Gilmour
Dear Seattle;
First off, we would like to officially welcome you to our hell. You see, our city is a charter member of that small fraternity of places that know what it’s like to lose their team. Actually, let us rephrase that: have their team ripped away from them under the watchful eye of a short, New York-living commissioner with a law degree. More than that, we felt that we should pull you aside for a man-to-man, city-to-city talk. The kind of talk that almost certainly has to take place in an old bar over a tall pint of beer.