Down and out in Beverly Hills

Donald T. Sterling

Sterling Plaza

Beverly Hills, Calif., 90210

Dear Donald,

So much has gone on with the real teams, I've been too busy to write, but I just want to welcome you back.

Boy, have I missed you!

I mean the you who did everything right for four exemplary seasons before returning to form with a vengeance, torching Clippers Coach Mike Dunleavy and threatening to "make changes."

Of course, this would have meant more if you had the slightest intention whatsoever of firing Dunleavy.

Unfortunately, short of seeing Godzilla come out of the sea, march up Wilshire and squash every building you own, I know you can't think of many things worse than paying off the last three years of Dunleavy's four-year, $22-million deal.

Six weeks later, you haven't talked to Dunleavy, refusing to accept his apology or even take his calls.

Of course, you're still in a league by yourself, figuratively and literally, when it comes to posing as an NBA owner.

You didn't just roast Dunleavy on a spit for The Times' T.J. Simers, you had team President Andy Roeser and basketball VP Elgin Baylor sitting in, like Harpo and Chico Marx backing up Groucho.

It was like a royal proclamation: Dunleavy, whom you had given more power than any coach or general manager, was officially out of favor.

Dunleavy then publicly dared you to fire him, dropping him even further, to your seventh circle of hell, where he's still being basted today.

How surprising was it that three days later, as Dunleavy tried to put the story to bed, Roeser gave him another official reprimand rather than back his story about talking to you personally or, at least, minimizing it.

(I don't think Dunleavy's story, which he recanted, amounts to breach of contract, but I'm sure you've researched that point.)

Now everything has gone back to the way it was, and we know who's in charge . . .

Nobody!

For the maraschino cherry atop the sundae of this farce, you just blew a chance to make a trade that would have been like the Pau Gasol deal's little brother.

With half the league trying to steal Mike Miller, the Memphis Commercial Appeal reported the Grizzlies finally offered him to you for the expiring contracts of Sam Cassell and Aaron Williams and your No. 1 pick.

Unfortunately, it had to go through channels to be carried on a pillow into your office in Beverly Hills, so you with your vast expertise could turn it down.