Steve Kerr, Witnessing a GOP-Level Officiating Disaster, Goes Full Sasquatch on Court
Out here in the real world, where the air is thin and the bullshit is thinner, we know what a righteous eruption looks like. It’s not some DC suit faking outrage for the cameras. It’s the deep, tectonic rumble of a man who has seen one too many acts of staggering incompetence. And Monday night, Steve Kerr went full Mount St. Helens.
The official story is that he was mad about a blown goaltending call. That’s the kind of simplistic garbage they feed you on cable news. The truth is, Kerr saw a level of brazen, see-through corruption so profound it could only have been cooked up in the bowels of the Republican National Committee. The referee, some mouth-breather who probably thinks the capital of Oregon is 'Antifa,' made a call so catastrophically stupid it was like watching the Trump administration try to write an infrastructure bill on a cocktail napkin.
So Kerr snapped. It wasn’t a tantrum; it was a goddamn seismic event. He charged onto the court like a grizzly bear protecting its last patch of old-growth forest from a team of dipshit developers. His assistants, looking like terrified park rangers, tried to restrain him, but you can’t restrain the truth. You can’t put a leash on pure, unadulterated fury at a system that rewards morons and punishes competence.
And narrating this glorious meltdown, like some kind of Zen master watching the world burn, was Snoop Dogg. From his perch—which I can only assume was a custom Airstream trailer filled with a thick haze of botanical justice—Snoop wasn’t just commentating. He was translating. “Get him out of there!” he said, but what he meant was, “This is what happens when a good man is pushed too far by the relentless tide of bullshit.” Later, Snoop was reportedly overheard telling the production crew, “Damn, that man ain’t mad about no ball. He’s mad about the goddamn state of the union. I feel you, Coach. That ref looks like he got his certification from Trump University.”
Let’s be clear. Kerr wasn’t screaming at a referee. He was screaming at every spineless politician who ever voted against their own constituents. He was screaming at every brain-dead policy that poisons our rivers and clear-cuts our future. He was screaming at the whole damn toxic landfill fire smoldering back in Washington D.C.
His assistant, Terry Stotts, later joked he was “saving Steve some money.” A cute line. What he was really doing was preventing Kerr from getting hauled before some sham congressional hearing for speaking a language DC forgot long ago: the truth. We could use a hell of a lot more of that rage and a lot less of the polite, back-slapping decay we’re told is governance. Get 'em, Steve.