In preparation for tonight's game five in the NBA finals, I thought I'd take a quick look back at my experience with Game Four on Tuesday night. Here is how one man took in this pivotal match up.
1st Quarter
I was still at work when the game started at six, so I missed most of the first quarter while finishing up a few emails to the client, checking in on the Royals score and IMing with my wife about our plans for the evening.
I should state that I've had a passing interest in the Dallas Mavericks since early in the 2000's, after my parents moved to Grapevine, a suburb of the Dallas-Ft. Worth metropolitan area.
Most people know Grapevine because of it's comically large mall. If you ever visit the area, you'll recognize it from the air. You can actually read the name on top of the building while descending into DFW airport.
I was all ready to throw myself into the game on the radio when I go to my car, but was disappointed to realize that the AM signal wouldn't penetrate the parking structure of my building. Making the best of things, I plugged in my iPod and rocked out to a Social Distortion song from the late nineties while I snaked around a few hundred speed bumps.
Growing up in Kansas meant I had little rooting interest in professional basketball. I was fond of Jordan's Bulls, and always liked to see John Paxson do well, as he reminded me of myself. You know, if I was a half a foot taller and could shoot three pointers.
As I grew older, I would watch the playoffs when they were on, and I hated the Lakers, because it seemed like the right thing to do, but for the most part, I abstained.
I checked the radio again once I was on the road and heard the raspy strains of Hubie Brown describing how poorly the Mavs defense was playing. Apparently, Miami was rebounding at will and had the game tied despite shooting something like 3 for 20 to start the proceedings.
Jack Ramsey was working color along with Hubie, which had my mind focused on the combined ages of the announcing crew and how I bet they outpaced the entire rosters of Miami and Dallas combined.
The game was close, but didn't sound very pretty as I worked my way east across Los Angeles. Missed shots, sloppy box outs and ill-advised fouls plagued my mental landscape.
2nd Quarter
I missed the seven o'clock cut off for no parking in the right lane of Melrose, so I had to focus on dodging cars for about ten minutes and wasn't really paying attention to the game. I did hear the radio studio host mention he was sitting with Will Perdue a few times, though I never heard the big man himself get a word in.
When my parents moved to Dallas, Mark Cuban had recently bought the Mavs and Steve Nash and Dirk Nowiztki became the early-aughts equivalent of a trending topic when photos of them partying it up made the internet rounds.
These guys seemed all right, so I rooted them on when they made an appearance on TNT and kept an eye on the team even as I started to pay more attention to the Bulls after they drafted Kansas star Kirk Heinrich, one of my favorite college players.
I puttered along the 101 and listened as the two teams traded baskets. Part of me wanted it to be a blowout, so I wouldn't have to worry and could try to do better about catching the next game on a TV screen somewhere. I pulled up to home just before half time and tried not to think about how much analysis I would miss while I walked the dog.
3rd Quarter
The high-pitched barking of the dog brought me back to reality. He probably needed to pee worse than Kobe needed to get more rings than Shaq.
I leashed him up and checked in on the Royals from my phone while he did his business. They were still losing. Always losing.
The neighbor who doesn't talk to me was walking his dog and our two pups spent about two minutes sniffing each other up and down. We made some awkward conversation (he wasn't following the playoffs. I never know how to communicate with people who don't watch sports).
Time passed. The Heat beat the Mavericks in 2006, and the Bulls traded away Heinrich in a foolish attempt to clear salary cap space for LeBron James last off season. My interest in the sport faded in a general way. I also go married and sports watching of all kinds dwindled significantly. Keeping up on a sport I was only partly interested in to begin with became a small priority.
I finally got inside with about ten minutes left in the third quarter. Finally, I was able to watch the teams and get a real feel for what was happening.
Five minutes later, my wife came home and the TV turned off so we could catch up and get dinner going.
Even as a casual fan, I was itching to pick up the remote for most of our meal. I knew it didn't matter, though. Whatever the score, it would have little affect on my life at this point. Fate has been good to me. Why lament missing a basketball game that isn't even the deciding contest in the series?
4th Quarter
Dinner ended about midway through the fourth quarter and I got to see a nice play where the Mavs stole the ball and an outlet pass to Jason Terry put them back on top after being down by nine points. The crowd was going wild and I felt that familiar tingle of excitement when the team you care about is doing well.
It was time to go, though. We'd been talking about getting to the gym more regularly, and Tuesday was the night to make it happen. I drove to the gym as fast as I could to see if I could catch the final minutes.
So, these playoffs have been happening, I've been reading a column or two hear and there, catching a Sports Guy podcast when a long drive came up, and somehow I decided that I would pay attention to the finals now that things were getting interesting.
I wasn't going to rearrange my life to catch the games, but I would do my best to keep up on the scores and see if I could help will the Mavericks to a win in some small way.
We walked up to the gym in the waning moments of the game.
I could see a group huddled around a TV inside and I could barely make out the score. Mavs up by 3. If I hurried, I could catch the last play on one of the flat screens in the main gym area.
I pulled open the door and politely shoved past a couple of chubby ladies to get past the front counter. Before I could get an angle on the screen, I heard screams from all corners of the gym.
Something big had happened. But what?
I live in North East LA, and when the Lakers are playing, you know where the crowd stands. Dallas and Miami? It was difficult to decide where the loyalties lied. I saw high fives. Heard a few groans. The more animated patrons were waving their hands in either celebration or derision.
I was sharing this experience with about twenty strangers in a gym, and I didn't know if I was sharing joy or sadness. I guess it was the best of sports. Good or bad, they can make your heart beat harder and your stomach turn.
My parents moved on from Dallas after a few years. The Jayhawks won a national title and my basketball focus is firmly in the college game. I would like to think I won't be affected by the outcome of these finals. But, I'll be pretty bummed if Dallas doesn't win after evening things up like this.
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