Dear Tim Duncan,

This sucks. I'm sorry, but this sucks.

I was born on May 23rd, 1997. One month and two days later, the San Antonio Spurs (my father's favorite team), drafted Tim Duncan out of Wake Forest with the first pick in the NBA Draft. Ever since then, the Spurs have not had a losing season. In fact, the only season in which the Spurs had less than 50 wins was a lockout season in which the spurs posted 37 wins (in 50 games) and won an NBA Championship. For this reason, my father began telling me at a young age that I was the reason the Spurs were good.

Boy, did I eat that lineup. I immediately became the biggest Spurs fan in Massachusetts. I asked for a Tim Duncan jersey, which still fits me to this day (not very well). From that day on, I refused to wear any number other than 21 in any sport, especially basketball. Only when an older kid took the number 21 from me at age 12 was I able to switch my number to 31 after a large temper tantrum. At any rate, Tim Duncan had the largest impact on my life of any athlete that has ever played.

Living in Massachusetts did two things for me: it made me and my father the only San Antonio Spurs fans that I have ever met or heard of, and it made going to a San Antonio Spurs game very, very tough. The only reasonable option was to go see the Spurs play the Celtics, but these games were few and far between and seemed never to match our schedules. An opportunity arose recently as I moved into my temporary address at Princeton University, a short distance from Philadelphia and New York, making a larger number of games much more accessible. To top it off, the Philadelphia 76ers were tanking... again, making tickets cheaper as well. Perfect, right?

Wrong. By the time I came to this realization, the Spurs had already played both games against the 76ers for the 2015-16 season, and I was out of luck. I resolved to see my favorite team and my favorite player a year later. There was only one problem. My favorite player was getting old, and retirement loomed overhead. I dreaded the day that the news would come, but I always knew it was coming. A few days ago, my heart was broken as I read about his retirement and watched Gregg Popovich become emotional talking about his golden boy Timmy.

So selfishly, Mr. Timmy Duncan, this sucks. I will forever regret not being able to see you play. As much as it sucks, I cannot help but thank you. Thank you for 5 NBA Championships, 19 winning seasons, and a lifetime of inspiration. Seriously, a lifetime. Before the retirement, there were only 34 days that I was alive and Tim Duncan was not a San Antonio Spur. So you're welcome because obviously, my birth had something to do with all that success. More than anything, I'll miss you, Timmy. Hold your head high as you walk away the greatest and quietest Power Forward of my time and of all time.

With Love,

A Misplaced Spurs Fan, Sean Buxton