Where's the love, Sam?

KATHRYN HUMPHREYS -- Special to Sun Media

, Last Updated: 1:22 PM ET

She's smart. She's feisty. She's City-TV's Kathryn Humphreys, and she has a bone to pick with Raptors coach Sam Mitchell.

Open letter to Sam Mitchell:

Dear Sam,

It's hard to pinpoint exactly when it all went wrong for us. How things got so crazy.

Oh, I don't know. Maybe it was the time we were standing with a group of male scribes and you demanded to know how I was going to compete with these boys and I looked you straight in the eye and said "cleavage."

Or perhaps you have me confused with that other blonde reporter, the good one, whom you reluctantly verbally sparred with on occasion. Everybody knows telling one blonde from the next is like ... hard.

Or maybe it was the time I wedgied you in front of Prince. Okay, I made up that last part, but I'm just reeling from the pain.

DISDAIN

All I know is that when I walked into that sunlit gym in September, giddy with anticipation of a shiny new season, and I asked you, "Hey there coach, do you think you've mellowed with age?" you looked at me with such disdain, such hellfire in your eyes you'd think I'd forgotten to box out Carmelo Anthony, and said, "I don't understand the question," which in the media we know is code for, "I'm pretty sure I hate you."

Not two months later, another reporter asked you the exact same question and you answered it with such enthusiasm, it cut me to the quick.

Oh yes, we've had some rough patches. Words can hurt, Sam. I have feelings and desperate longings for approval (see ill-advised cover of UMM magazine). Maybe you ascribe to the Charles Barkley school of thought; the one that says listening to a woman on TV is almost as bad as losing to one, in which case, I can let the moustache grow in; meet you halfway. The point is, I'm willing to take the first step. Never mind Hammer time, it's healing time. I'm thinking we could take a pottery class together. Nothing mends fences like matching ashtrays. Throw on the soundtrack from Ghost and let the warm wet clay fly.

Or maybe we could go to the Reconnection Rainbow Retreat, where they'll teach us to build trust and create a feeling of safety.

They might even teach us how to make macrame owls, but mostly the safety. In fact, Dr. Sarah would help us establish some "safe words" like "tippy toe" or "octopus" in case things get too crazy at practice.

We all know that when safe words are used effectivelyl, they can instantly end a stressful situation and create an environment of incredible trust. Of course, when picking your safe word remember that homonyms are less than ideal, Sam. Words like awful, aweful and offal (butchered entrails) can only cause confusion.

Also, try to avoid symbols like the aforementioned Prince. That too can cause momentary confusion.

And of course, it's best to avoid taunts when picking your safe word. "Talentless hack" is not cool.

I think somewhere between the Tree of Trust T-ball game and the vegetable pakoras, we could come to an understanding.

If a retreat isn't your thing, perhaps a Feng Shui workshop is. You can be the Yang to my Yin. We could build a tasteful water feature near the player's bench. The gentle sound of a Powerade fountain can diminish hostile feelings by dispersing negative chi.

Or, what about a little scrapbooking? Load up the glue gun, I've got some zany thought bubble stickers for a photo of me and the Christies, Doug and Jackie.

Sam, let's not fight. We could have something special here. I think we both want the same thing, and I'm not afraid to look foolish.

This is me. I love you. This city loves you.

Why won't you love us back?


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