Tim Duncan
c/o San Antonio Spurs
One AT&T Center
San Antonio, TX
78219
4/20/07
Mr. Duncan,
Please accept my sincerest apologies for the regrettable incident of April 15 in which I ejected you from the Spurs' game against Dallas.
Specifically, I'm sorry that I didn't hasten your departure by sticking my entire foot in your ass.
Further, I'm immensely sorry that you managed to slip past me on your way out of the arena. I was waiting in the parking lot, punk. You got lucky this time, but rest assured, someday I will kick you in your labia, then pummel that blank stare off your face -- you know it, I know it, and all the fans who pay to see me do my thing night after night after night know it.
Go cry to David Stern all you want. The fact is, I've been in this league damn near three decades. I was blowing the whistle when your mother was blowing half of the guys in the Caribbean, and I ain't going anywhere.
It may interest you to know that before becoming an NBA legend, I worked for the U.S. Postal Service from 1972-75. Oh how I would love to stamp your ass "FRAGILE" and express mail you back to the Virgin Islands ... heh, "Virgin" Islands. How perfect is that? Were they named after you? I guess not, or else they'd be the Giggling Bitch On the Bench Islands.
In closing, I'd like to invite you to my home in Newton Square, Pa., to discuss this matter further. It's easy to find; just follow the trail of blood and tears.
Regards,
Joey Crawford
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