Beg, borrow or steal. Scan eBay, Craigslist and StubHub. Bribe a friend, ditch the significant other for a night, lay a guilt trip on a wealthy relative. Dig into the vacation fund, take the bus for a week, pack your lunch. Basically, do anything and everything short of not paying the mortgage to get to a Cavs game.
Think back for a moment — it’s depressing, I know — to
all the Browns, Indians and Cavs games you’ve been to. The rainy April
nights at the Jake when the Indians were off to yet another disastrous
start. The cold nights in September when the Indians were long since
eliminated from the playoffs, putting the final touches on yet another
embarrassing finish with a bunch of guys named Selby and Tyner on the
field.
The empty stadium swept by sideways sleet, with fourth-string
quarterbacks, has-beens and never-gonna-be’s on the field. Another
Steelers loss. Another losing season. About 18 quarterbacks. PSLs.
Season tickets down the drain.
There’s “Wrong Way” Ricky Davis and forehead-pounding Darius
Miles.
And you know the rest, because you were there or you watched it
— and God knows we’ve all talked about it.
Which is why you deserve this. Not to see a game in a bar or with
friends, which is nice enough, but to be there for the party.
Whether it’s Orlando or Boston in the next round, the games likely
won’t end with the same ease and dominance that led everyone to declare
home games as celebrations to this point. But that just means the
energy doesn’t end at halftime, and there’s something to pay attention
to in the second half besides organizing a “Wally, Wally” chant.
Consider it an appointment with a sports psychologist — if the
psychologist also invited 20,561 of your closest friends and had fire
shooting out of his desk.
In every post-game interview, and even in a rap song or two, the
Wine and Gold have given credit to the fans, and deservedly so. The Q
isn’t one of the most intimidating places in the NBA for nothing. That
home court advantage is huge, and in some respects, the players need
you.
But you need them too. The Cavs have played four playoff home games
so far en route to routing the Pistons and Hawks. They have between
four and eight home games between now and the end of the season —
the end of the promise, the hopeful attainment of that one goal. And
trust me, you want to be there.
It’s cathartic. It’s healthy to wake up the next day, head still
spinning, throat still sore, hands still raw. It’s amazing what this
team can erase.
Consider last Thursday night in game two against Atlanta, a date
which was also the 20th anniversary of “The Shot.” Consider for a
moment not only the overall joy of watching your team absolutely
demolish the Hawks, but the awe-inspiring performance of LeBron James
in compiling yet another highlights reel for the NBA to use in their
“Where Amazing Happens” campaign: the fade-away three pointer at the
buzzer. The no-look alley-oop from Mo. The no-look pass to Anderson
through the guts of the Hawks defense.
There’s a feeling you can’t get from watching the game on TV. You
can’t feel yourself impulsively rise to your feet — one of more
than 20,000 in unison — as LeBron swings his arms playfully after
draining a jump shot from about a mile away. You can’t let a wave of
energy rush over you as the pre-game introductions crescendo from the
minute the lights are turned out to the minute they’re turned back on,
revealing a group of friends going through about 15 handshake
routines.
You want to wait in anticipation as the lineup is announced and
LeBron hunches on the bench, enjoying those last final seconds before
his name is called and the crowd erupts. You want to watch the rest of
the team squeeze together in a line and look toward LeBron, who then
waves his arms as if he parting the Red Sea, shuffling his teammates
back to each side and revealing a tunnel of soldiers who wait for his
salute.
That’s the stuff you’re going to remember. That’s the stuff you’re
going to think back on and wish you had been there for. Just once, the
game’s a party. You don’t want to lie when you say, “I was there for
that.” And it’s different every time, whether it’s Mo winning a
jumpball or LeBron taking his game to yet another rarified level.
You’re going to see something you’ve never seen before.
You want to be there for that. Because whether it’s only another
four home games or as many as eight, that’s it. Season over, magical
ride done. And if something’s going to happen that only the oldest of
Cleveland sports fans can remember, but most of us have never seen, you
actually want to be there to see it.
This article appears in May 13-19, 2009.
