The 1995 All-Star Game Hardwood Is for Sale on Facebook

Disclaimer: This article is based on actual news from the real world – honestly! However, it has been sprinkled with a healthy dose of satire.

In 1995, Phoenix hosted the NBA All-Star Game at what was then the American West Arena, back when the only “superteam” involved was NBC’s graphics department and Marv Albert’s hair. The Western Conference, led by Barkley, Olajuwon, and Shawn “I Definitely Pay My Taxes” Kemp, defeated the East by 27 points. It was the last time anyone in Phoenix celebrated basketball in a building not named “Footprint.”

That same court has now surfaced on Facebook Marketplace. The price: $125,000 or best offer. Current offers include $60, a broken Roomba, and a guy promising “exposure.”

The Beram family, who apparently bought the thing 30 years ago because their “storage units weren’t full enough,” is hoping to find it a loving new home. Preferably one with room for a 14-piece, 4×8-foot puzzle that still smells faintly of Latrell Sprewell’s unresolved anger management issues.

“We figured someone local might want it,” says seller Michael Beram. “You know, maybe a Suns fan,” he said, pausing before adding, “or maybe a fan that still believes Barkley’s coming back. There’s like four of them. They meet Tuesdays at a local strip club. Don’t ask me how I know this.”

If that court could talk, it would sound like Ahmad Rashad whispering, “He’s heating up.” Barkley and Majerle once sweated on it. Shaq dunked so hard it briefly realigned the building’s feng shui. Grant Hill was still spry, and Sprewell had yet to “coach.” But for the past three decades, the floor has lived a quiet life, stacked neatly in a garage next to ticket stubs from the Diamondbacks’ World Series, Suns’ playoff collapses, and at least one Elvis concert that may or may not have been attended by a hologram. It’s the last remnant of a simpler time: baggy shorts, bad haircuts, and an era when “stretch four” meant something you did before practice, not a Tinder bio.

At first, the Berams planned to install the floor in their coin and metals shop on 3rd Avenue. Unfortunately, cutting it into pieces “felt wrong,” according to Michael. Which is rich considering that’s exactly what the Suns did with their fanbase after the 1993 Finals.

So instead, they listed it on Facebook Marketplace: a place where, statistically, you’re more likely to find an upside-down Camaro shell or a suspicious loveseat than a giant-sized NBA artifact.

One prospective buyer wanted to install it in his home gym, which makes sense if you’ve got an extra 900 square feet of space and a marriage sturdy enough to handle it. Another wanted to use it for a new sports complex. Neither, so far, has actually paid. The listing remains live between a “lightly used Peloton” and a “cursed Tupperware set.”

This court deserves a better afterlife. But for now it sits, silently, waiting for a second act. Like Patrick Ewing’s knees.

This story is based on fully factual news, but if we got it wrong, blame these guys, we’re just here to make it funny.