Related sports posts:
–Better Than Any First Class Suite…Taking My Son To His First Ballgame
–Trip Notes: Hall Of Fame Trifecta And Fenway Park In 72 Hours
-Trip Notes: A Father & Son Day Trip To Chicago For A Ballgame And A DO
–Stealing 2nd Base: My Coolest Use Of Miles Ever?
–My First Non-Travel Mileage Redemption
–Take Me Out To The Ballgame…Buy Me Some Kosher Chili And Ribs.
–Manny Being Manny…
Let’s talk hobbies. What we enjoy outside of “real life” that keeps you energized for what really counts.
I love blogging. I love finding bargains. I love collecting miles and elite status on the dirt cheap. I love traveling. I love good kosher restaurants. I love sports.
And as a 5th generation Clevelander on both sides, pro sports is a tough thing to love. No city in America has undergone more sports torture than Cleveland. We’re said to have a sports curse. There’s The Shot, The Drive, The Fumble, The Decision, The Move, Game 7, The Catch, we have names for all the ways that our 3 allegedly pro sports teams have let us down spectacularly. My wife even got me this coloring book on Father’s Day a few years ago.
Continued after the jump:
As a kid I didn’t know better than to let myself get emotionally invested in Cleveland sports. My maternal grandfather took me to lots of games and I was hooked. I should have realized something was amiss in that none of his kids were old enough to remember a Cleveland championship and had to rely on his stories. I was 12 when the Indians led the Marlins going into the bottom of the 9th of the 7th game of the ’97 world series. I screamed at the TV when Hargrove put in Mesa and I cried when they blew it.
After that point I still loved going to games, but never let myself get too far into it. Not that I stopped having sports experiences, just see the related links at the top of this post.
But last night’s Cavs game might have brought me right back into that danger zone. I’ve never seen so much energy at a game before. The Q was on fire like never before.
My parents hate going to sports games, but I went with Mimi and my mother’s 2 brothers and sister to the game. Our voices are gone, and our feet hurt from standing for the entire game, but we’re all still grinning from ear to ear. We’ll be talking about this one forever.
The fans willed the players to win and they fed off of it. When Curry was ejected and the whole arena broke out into a raucous “Na-na-na-na, Na-na-na-na, Hey hey, Goodbye” there was clearly magic that was palpable.
This video doesn’t do it justice:
Walking out of the arena afterward and out into the streets, the city was erupting in cheers and high-fives. Everyone was the best of friends on this night. It’s hard to describe just how exuberant the scene was. Videos do it no justice.
The Lets Go Cavs chants after the game spilled out into the streets:
High fives went all around, people of all colors hugging random strangers and loving the moment. There were even high-five gauntlets on some downtown streets. Cars were honking, drivers high-fiving the traffic policemen as they drove by.
It felt like a championship had been won. And for one night for Cleveland sports fans, it felt like it wouldn’t matter.
But it does. The “curse” talk won’t end until the trophy is taken home and the victory parade goes down Cleveland streets for the first time in 52 years. Yes I know, I’m setting myself up for another fall.
But thanks to some United saver awards I plan on flying to be at game 7 to see it firsthand. Knowing Cleveland sports, it might very well be once in a lifetime after all. Now I just need to figure out how to use miles for some tickets to the game :D