Those Phoenix friends I have who grew up here or raised families here always shot me a knowing glance when I got optimistic about the city’s pro sports franchises.
Now I know what they meant.
The Diamondbacks can’t hit. The Cardinals don’t have a quarterback. The hockey club is apparently in the throes of an ancient Indian curse. The Mercury’s best player is in a Russian prison. And Devin Booker is out with a bum hamstring.
Can’t say my friends didn’t try to warn me.