LEGAL DISCLAIMER (Read in high-speed auctioneer voice):

 This is a satirical editorial commentary and is not intended to represent factual claims about any individuals or entities, including but not limited to the Los Angeles Sparks, their ownership group, or associated businesses. Any resemblance to actual billionaires exploiting fandom for profit is purely coincidental (and depressingly common). Consult your lawyer before shouting "Cash Grab!" in a crowded arena. 

George Says: “You Wanna Know What I Think?”

You ever notice how billionaires treat sports fans the way a raccoon treats a trash can? Flip the lid, rummage through your wallet, then skitter off when you turn on the lights.

Let’s talk about the Los Angeles Sparks.

This week, the Sparks refunded all season tickets. Not just a few. Not the ones from bots, scalpers, or that one guy who thought “WNBA” was a new crypto token. No, everyone. The whole roster of loyal, passionate, season-ticket-holding fans? Boom—refunds. And the reason?

A glitch.

 Sure. And I’ve got a bridge in Brooklyn I’ll sell you for the price of one of those “glitched” courtside seats.

Here’s what George has always said about sports:

“The game’s supposed to be for the fans—but the minute it turns a profit, the fans become the product.”

And boy, are the Sparks proving him right.

Let’s be honest: this stinks like a locker room after overtime. You don’t refund every single season ticket days before tipoff unless something real fishy is going on. Maybe they realized they underpriced the seats in the wake of a rising WNBA wave. Maybe they saw the Caitlin Clark effect and decided to play Financial God. Hit reset, jack the prices, and tell the fans, “Oopsie, must’ve been the Ticket Gremlins again!”

But what’s the one thing George really can’t stand?

Pretending it’s not about money.

 Oh, the sweet sanctimonious corporate statement: “We value our fans.” Right up there with “Your call is important to us” and “You may already be a winner!”

Let’s roast the ownership while we’re here—hypothetically, legally, and lovingly of course.

 The Sparks are owned by a consortium (which is billionaire-speak for “I needed friends to buy a team”). Do you know what kind of people form a consortium? The same ones who split the check but leave before tip. A gaggle of executives who treat a women’s basketball team not as a sport, but as a portfolio asset. Something to be flipped, monetized, and milked faster than you can say “Crypto.com Arena.”

You think these folks care about the fans in the nosebleeds?

 They don’t even care about the players unless there's an endorsement attached.

And if you dare complain?

 “Please allow 21 business days for your refund.”

 That’s not a refund—that’s a corporate timeout.

You wanna support women’s sports? Great.

 But let’s make sure the money goes to the athletes, not the suits playing SimCity with real people's passion.

George out.