PARODY: How Anze Kopitar could have planted the seeds of Luka Dončić's arrival in LA
This is dumb, and we will all be dumber for reading it, but why the heck not?
The following is an act of satire, it is extremely dumb and silly and shows I have way too much time on my hands.
To repeat, this a complete act of fiction.
Anze Kopitar is Slovenian, he is one of the greatest players in Los Angeles Kings history, and therefore one of the greatest athletes in LA sports history. Last night the Los Angeles Lakers completed a stunning trade to land Luka Dončić.
There have been lots of really well-written, thoughtful pieces about what it means.
Including this:
And this:
This is not that. This is dumb and silly and a waste of your time.
But after sending the following post, I decided this is my site and on a Sunday afternoon why not try writing something ridiculous.
Again, and I can’t state this enough, this is a ridiculous and fake thing and probably proof that I should never be allowed to write a screenplay.
(A dimly lit lounge in Los Angeles.)
(Anze Kopitar sits alone with a glass of schnapps1, speaking directly to an unseen audience—perhaps an imagined confidant, or himself. A large television plays an old highlight reel of his career in the background.)
(Gustl Kopitar, his twitter-famous golden-retriever poodle mix, sleeps in the corner.)
Kopitar: (sipping his drink) You don’t get to be a legend without thinking ahead.
LA made me. Gave me a stage, gave me a name and in turn Slovenia has gone from an American unknown to a constant thought amongst the citizens of one of America’s largest cities.
It’s been a great run, not over yet, but soon that stage will need another Slovenian. And I know just the man for it.
Luka Dončić.
(He leans forward, voice lowering.)
He doesn’t know it yet, but this has been in motion for years. Since the night Dallas took him. I watched, and I knew. Dallas—wrong place, wrong stage. He belongs here playing at the Crypt.
But you can’t just take a player like Luka. You have to make it happen without him even realizing.
(He pulls out a notepad, flipping through scribbled notes. The television flips from his Kings highlights to a montage of Dončić’s career in Dallas.)
First, plant the seeds.
I made calls—old connections, agents, Slovenian investors with stakes in basketball. Dallas doesn’t appreciate Luka the way LA would. Get the right voices whispering. Make him question. Make him wonder.
Then I twisted the media, sidling with NBA reporters while I was simply “watching” Lakers games. It’s easy when you know the right people. An anonymous source here, a well-placed rumor there. Luka’s unhappy. Dallas isn’t giving him what he needs. He’s looking elsewhere. And the public eats it up.
After that, I made sure to plant it deep in Luka’s subconscious.
Not directly. That would be reckless. But through channels—former players, mutual friends, even an old NBA agent who knows how to move the chess pieces.
(Kopitar pauses, glancing at the screen where Luka has just hit a buzzer-beating looping shot.)
Then the hardest part, the final nudge. It’s a hockey axiom, “defense wins championships,” that needs to take precedence over actual starpower, defense first, flash and dash later. You need the right piece, the right fall guy, maybe a 6-foot-10 rim stopper with a ring.
Once the idea takes place, aging defense over prime superstardom, it’s impossible to ignore and you simply wait. Maybe it’s a change in ownership, maybe it’s mis-placed faith in a certain support piece.
Whatever it is, it won’t look like my doing, not all, it simply looks like destiny.
(Kopitar leans back, smirking).
And when it happens—when Luka walks into the Crypt that was once mine, continuing the Slovenian legacy in LA—it won’t be because of me. Not officially. Not in a way anyone can trace.
But I’ll know. And that’s all that matters.
(He finishes his drink, stands, and walks out as the screen flickers to black.)
Again this was really dumb and is a complete work of fiction. Please remember that.
This is apparently the national drink of Slovenia.