I’m not kidding, I would sacrifice my firstborn if I knew it would help Russell Westbrook. I don’t have children, I don’t want them, they’re shit and rarely give you anything in return except debts and depression. But if I accidentally got some bird up the duff I know I’d take that waste of space down the river and toss it in, if I knew somehow it could help Russell Westbrook.

Why?

Because if Russell Westbrook was on my team he’d do the same for me. He’d do anything to make sure we got the win, he’d shed every ounce of fat, every morsel of fear, every fibre of weakness all so that he could get us in a position to compete harder.

I believe in Russell Westbrook. I believe in what he is trying to do this season. I believe in what he represents. This isn’t a game of basketball, this is a war. This is a man tasked with breaking the shadow of darkness. If you aren’t with Russell Westbrook then you’re evil. That’s fine, you sit there and suckle on the teets of Lucifer, you bathe in the fires of damnation. Your maleficence will sting your heart eventually.

For those of us who see the light, we know Russell Westbrook is coming. We know he will prevail. We see that he, and only he, can guide us to the promised land.

God is dead, Russell Westbrook dunked on him. Start believing before he dunks on your bitch ass too.