*This is a satire piece. The stakes of losing the Spurs, however, feel very real…

Dear San Antonio,
Hey y’all. It’s us—Austin.

We’re writing with love. And opportunity. Mostly opportunity.

First off, congratulations on your new civic pastime: publicly spiraling over whether or not to keep your one and only major league team. You’ve turned a no-brainer into a masterclass in slow-motion self-sabotage. The meetings. The op-eds. The X threads with 6 likes and 47 angry replies. It’s performance art at this point.

Please—keep going.

Because up here in Central Texas, we’re watching. And waiting. And, if we’re being honest, quietly preparing.

See, we’ve had our eye on the Spurs for a while. We’ve admired them—five rings, a global fan base, and a culture that still makes headlines for all the right reasons. But lately, watching you drag this out, it’s starting to feel like you’re ready to let go. And if that happens, we’ll be the first in line.

We’re ready to commit. We want to build a life together. One with infrastructure, investment, and vision. We want to give them a new home—something sleek, sustainable, and ready for primetime. Funded by three angel investors and a guy named Dash who just sold his Web3 startup.

And don’t worry about the cost. We’ll figure it out. Public money, private money, crypto money—we’ve got options. We’ll pass the Patagonia vest around at a tech happy hour and raise $800 million by dessert. Naming rights? Done. The H-E-Bezos Center. The Whole Foods Fieldhouse. Or maybe just “The App.” We’ll figure it out.

All we need is for you to keep doing what you’re doing: arguing about parking spaces. Debating if the city should invest in its most iconic asset.

Seriously. Chef’s kiss. Keep it up.

And yes, we get it—this is your team. Part of your DNA.
But if that’s true, why are you treating them like a girlfriend you’re not sure how to break up with, instead of the cultural and economic engine they are?

This isn’t just about basketball. It’s about identity. It’s about who you are—and who you want to be.

Up here, we’re not just thinking about games. We’re thinking about talent. The kind that wants to live in a city that knows what it stands for. The kind that follows energy, creativity, and yes—teams with banners.

We don’t see a liability. We see legacy.

We see five titles. We see Tim Duncan statues. We see black and silver murals next to yoga studios and oat milk bars.

While you’re buried in feasibility studies, we’re already drawing bike lanes to the new arena.

While you’re debating tax zones, we’re hosting vision board parties with renderings and raw honey.

And don’t get us wrong—we respect the process.

But there’s a difference between thoughtful planning and decision paralysis. Between balancing today’s pressures and actually shaping tomorrow. And if we’re being honest, y’all aren’t exactly known for playing the long game.

So by all means—keep doing what you’re doing.

We’re not trying to gloat. We’re just… ready.

Ready to love them the way they deserve.
Ready to give them a city that understands their value—not just on the scoreboard, but in the skyline.

So from the Live Music Capital of the World to the Alamo City: thanks for the memories. Thanks for the titles. And if you happen to fumble the handoff, just know—we’re here. And we’re down to date.

Forever yours (or at least until the next funding round),
Austin

P.S. — We’ve already lit the palo santo, cued up the vinyl, and left the porch light on—just in case they come our way.