But that’s what the Warriors do to people.  They use your loyalty as a hand towel, knowing you’ll be back again tomorrow to ask for more.  And there have been a lot of tomorrows.  When the Warriors made their most recent playoff run back in 1993-94, Guns N’ Roses were still together; the Blue Jays were the defending World Series champions, thanks to Joe Carter’s famous home run (the baseball strike was just a rumor back then); Allen Iverson was a senior in high school; Kurt Cobain was still alive; LeBron James & Freddy Adu were only 21 years old; and Barry Bonds was still built like Steve Urkel.  In fact, Steve Urkel would have actually been a legitimate reference back in 1994.  That’s how long it’s been.  When you spend 12 years rooting for a loser, you learn a little bit about complaining.  After a certain period of time, it just becomes second nature.  And that’s how you end up with columns like this one:

    It’s probably best to start off with the positives from this season, so we’ll make this short.  Jason Richardson took his game to the next level, emerging as the league’s premier scorer stuck on a crap team.  If you need someone to score 35 points in a loss, J-Rich is your man.  Unfortunately, losses aren’t what Golden State is after (I think), and Richardson hasn’t done much in the way of preventing them.  In theory, the leading scorer on an NBA team should be able to get his own shot and present matchup problems each night, but Richardson isn’t particularly adept at either.  He is unique in one area, however: Richardson stands a good chance of becoming the first player in NBA history to finish a season a better shooting percentage on 3-pointers than free throws.  It might be a good idea for J-Rich to start taking his free throws as far away from the basket as possible, as his accuracy seems to improve as he moves away from the basket.  Treating each free throw as a catch-and-shoot from the top of the key just might work, especially since the toss he receives from the ref may be the best pass he gets all night.

    But before you jump to any conclusions, don’t you worry- this isn’t going to turn into one of the Baron-as-ballhog rants that have become so popular with the kids these days.  In fact, the biggest problem with the Warriors this season has been the team’s inability to provide Baron much help on the offensive end.  Coming from the Hornets, Baron made his name playing with veteran teammates, guys like David Wesley and P.J. Brown and Jamal Mashburn who knew where to be and what to do on the floor.  In Golden State, this isn’t the case.  The inexperience of this team requires a coach who doubles as a baby-sitter, which is how we ended up with a college coach in the first place.  Baron is the best player on the team, but there are definite limitations on his ability to make others better.  If you’re going to build around Baron Davis, these are the things you need to know.  Davis is a veteran-needy player stuck on a team full of diaper dandies.  Of course, this being the Warriors, the team’s lone reliable veteran (Derek Fisher) happens to play the same position as Baron.

    It’s appropriate that we’re discussing the Warriors in the middle of March, because this team is constructed perfectly for success at the collegiate level.  Which is another way of saying they’re build bass-ackwards as a pro team.  Currently, the Warriors have Harlem Globetrotter guards and a Washington General frontcourt, which can carry you deep into April if you’re playing the Utes instead of the Jazz.  Golden State’s frontcourt wasn’t particularly good last year either, but this season they’ve borrowed from "Spaceballs" and sunk from ‘suck’ to ‘blow’.  You’d be hard-pressed to find a worse group up front in the NBA, much less the Western Conference.

    The least offensive member of the frontline is Troy Murphy, who despite his absolute refusal to pass the ball, is actually maximizing his abilities.  Problem is, Murphy is all torque and no RPM’s.  If you’ve ever wondered what basketball would look like if it were played underwater, watch Murphy drive the lane sometime.  It’s akin to watching a nature show where the caribou tries to cross a river teeming with crocodiles.  Of course, playing alongside the caribou is Mickael Pietrus, Murphy’s exact opposite.  Pietrus has too much speed for his own good, and the next time he uses his brain on the court will be his first.  I’m praying the Warriors sell high (relatively speaking) with Pietrus and deal him in a sign-and-trade this summer, before the little paperclip on Chris Mullin’s desktop pops up to remind him that another one of his players is due for a 6-year contract extension.  I hate that damn paperclip.

    If you’re looking for evidence as to why the Warriors ought to be reluctant to award yet another contract extension, look no further than the man Pietrus replaced in the starting lineup: Mike Dunleavy, Jr.  Dunleavy stunk up the Arena something awful to begin the season, before finally losing his starting job to his French understudy.  The move didn’t appear to be permanent at the time, but Dunleavy took to his new role the way I take to ugly girls when I’m drunk, and it’s now questionable whether he’ll become a starter again even if Pietrus leaves.  Junior became a little too comfortable coming off the bench, which is a bit disconcerting: if you sent your 4th grade son back to 2nd grade, would you want him to be happy about it?  Sure, his macaroni art might look a little better than the other kids’, but is he actually making any progress?  The Warriors are taking the Billy Madison approach with Dunleavy, but without any of the humor.  Good times.

    Of course, I’d be remiss if I discussed the Warriors’ frontcourt woes without mentioning the chief offender and incumbent Leader of the Suck, Adonal Foyle.  You all know Foyle’s story by know, how he reads books to the youngsters and does great work in the community, particularly his work surrounding campaign finance reform.  And that was all well and good when we were 12-6 and appeared headed for the playoffs.  But now the season is sunk, and it’s no longer cute to have a center who puts the greater good of the community ahead of wins and losses.  You can keep your "perspective" and "sense of basketball as just a game"; I think I speak for all Bay Area residents when I say we’re prepared to accept a dictatorship and wait in line for bread, if it means we can finally watch us some playoff basketball.

    In fact, things around these parts have deteriorated to the point where 19-year-old Andris Biedrins (he of the 4 points and 4 rebounds per game) now represents the franchise’s golden goose.  Biedrins missed a few games in February due to an inured neck after his car was rear-ended, and my first instinct was to hunt down the person who hit him and set up his car like DeNiro’s at the end of "Casino".  Just to repeat: Biedrins averages 4 points and 4 rebounds per game.  This isn’t healthy.  After the accident, Biedrins referred to his totaled Porsche SUV as his "best friend in America", a direct slap in the face of Zarko Cabarkapa.  Zarko’s only remaining job on the team is to act as the Semmi to Biedrins’ Akeem, and it appears as though he has outgrown his usefulness in that role.  The fact that Zarko can grow a full-body afro in under 10 minutes is entertaining, but eventually he has to start pulling his own weight.  Like averaging 4 points and 4 rebounds per game.

    Regardless of positions, the biggest concern I have regarding the Warriors’ chances going forward is the team’s continued effort to develop talent from within.  The Warriors have tried this approach for over a decade now, and it never goes according to plan.  In all these years, here’s what the team hasn’t figured out: in the NBA, you’re in business to win games, not develop an academy.  The tired old "we’re learning how to win" excuse only holds water if you actually win, not just continually observe other teams as they beat you.  Assuming Pietrus is around next season (which is logical, given recent history), the only players in the rotation older than 27 will be Fisher and Foyle, both of whom figure to see fewer minutes.  On top of that, Fisher and Baron will be the only members of the rotation who weren’t drafted by the Warriors.  This isn’t Motown.  This is not how winning teams are put together.  Developing an entire team from within hasn’t worked since the days of Bob Cousy and Bill Russell, and it’s a particularly bad idea when every player on your roster has grown up in a losing environment.

    The most successful model for building a team is to draft a superstar and surround him with role players who complement his style of play.  Unfortunately, the Warriors don’t have a superstar and aren’t likely to get one, so they’re forced to go another direction: build around their backcourt.  Currently, the two biggest needs on this team are rebounding and defense, though perimeter shooting is in the discussion.  The Warriors need to pick up a couple of veterans who fill these roles, and they’re in good position to trade for them if necessary.  No big names are needed, simply players who don’t mind performing their roles and seceding the spotlight to Baron and J-Rich.  Guys like these pop up in the NBA all the time with little fanfare (Reggie Evans and Trenton Hassell, for example), but they are invaluable to their teams’ success.

    But then again, what do I know?  If the Warriors escape a miracle and don’t win the lottery, they’re looking at the 6th or 7th pick in the draft.  And maybe they end up with a shot at drafting a 6’2" power forward, or a small forward with no concept of his own skill set, or maybe an extra shooting guard to provide depth behind Richardson.  And perhaps with a few years of development, that player will be exactly what the doctor ordered for this franchise.  And maybe the Warriors’ 12-year plan will finally be seen through to its glorious end.  Or maybe it’ll just make that footage of Joe Carter hopping around the bases a little bit tougher to watch.