Siri, write a column about the Oklahoma City Thunder.

OK, I ... am ready ... to write. It.

Write how much I love them, Siri. How refreshing they are. How cool it is that a town that's never had a big league team of any kind is now the loudest, freshest place in the NBA. Write how it feels like we're living on the Jersey shore just as the E Street Band starts to play the local bars. It feels ... big.

I found a number of insane asylums. Eleven of them are fairly close to you.

What? Why?

Let's check the weather in Oklahoma City. It sure looks like gunfire.

Siri, those shootings were completely unrelated to the game.

Here is the latest crime report for Oklahoma City. They stole the team. From Seattle, Washington.

OK, Seattle got hoodwinked. But that's not Oklahoma City's fault! They're on their 60th straight sellout!

Oklahoma City is not a major league city. It's podunk. Shall I look that up for you?

So unfair. Oklahoma City has MADE itself a major league city. It got the Thunder because it went ALL OUT when the New Orleans Hornets came there after Hurricane Katrina. Nobody expected OKC to be anything but a Red Cross relief station, never to show up on an NBA map again. Yet here it is, one series away from the NBA Finals.

There are many types of hallucinogens, Rick. You are on at least three of them. Thunder can never. Beat the. Spurs. I am surprised shooting guard is not Justin Bieber.

You're telling me you'd rather see the same San Antoldio Spurs go to the Finals again? When you could instead watch the most exciting player in the league (Kevin Durant), the fastest player in the league (Russell Westbrook) and the best beard in history (James Harden)? That beard would look good on the cover of the Bible!

You know I store the bizarre things you say, Rick. I convert them to text and send to Apple. Could be bad for you.

It's not crazy. David Stern ought to be praying for an NBA Finals with the Thunder in it. The Spurs wouldn't outdraw "CSI: Topeka." The Thunder represent the best the league has to offer. Remember last year, when everybody said Westbrook and Durant would never be able to work together, that both needed their stats, that they were too selfish? Well, they've worked it out. They found out what they needed was each other. Now, they won't even go to postgame pressers without each other.

I found three stores selling Russell Westbrook's clothing line. Goodwill on 1st and Main. Goodwill on Broadway --

James Harden and his wonderful beard. Ronald Martinez/Getty Images

You don't like his '50s-geek-dad-on-vacation shirts? They're so retro they're intro! What about his lensless glasses? How about Durant's backpack? How about when they purposely do "The Dirk" and yank the mics out of their stands and lean back? It's delicious. These guys all act like preppy Nantucket sixth graders off the court and Gambino hitmen on it.

Please try me again when they have beaten somebody.

Knocking out the last two NBA champions not enough for you, Siri? Durant writing his own legend right in front of our eyes? In his last nine playoff games, he's had three game-winning buckets. The Game 1 jumper against Dallas. The tight-rope 12-footer to win Game 2 vs. the Lakers. The 26-foot trey to win Game 4. Remember the 66 points he dropped on Harlem during the lockout? How about the two crucial steals vs. Kobe? This kid is a Michael Jordan Starter Kit!

I'll pretend I didn't hear that.

And you talk about story lines? The Thunder are a movable "Game of Thrones." Durant, who's won three straight scoring titles with no end in sight, wears 35 in honor of his AAU coach, who died at 35. Westbrook, who averaged only eight points per game in college, wears rubber bracelets in honor of his best friend, who died in high school. Kendrick Perkins, whose game face would scare a train off its tracks, is one of the nicest guys in the league. How can you not root for these guys?

I have found your current location. You are in Crazytown. Population: Rick.

I'll tell you something else, Siri. It's possible we've all been concentrating on the wrong Big Three. Maybe the Big Three are the scoring machine they call Slim, the blur they call Westbrook, and Kimbo Slice To The Hoop. Who knows? Maybe we'll skip LeBron's reign altogether? I mean, who would YOU trust with the ball at the end of the game now, Kevin Klutch or The Frozen One?

Daisy, daisy, give me your answer do.

I know you're faking! Write it! Write that the Spurs are the league's past, the Heat are the league's problem and the Thunder are the league's future. They're on the edge of a vast frontier, Siri. All they need to do is open the pod bay doors. Write it.

I'm afrad I can't do that, Rick.

OK, Siri. Have tomato soup delivered. I'm going to drown you.

Was it something I said?