Bandwagon: supporter of a sports team only during a period of success.
That's the Wikipedia definition of those notorious sports junkies who only get high on victories. Loyalty is not part of their vocabulary in the world of competition, and wins are the only instances that satisfy their desire to watch sports.
I'm talking about those who root for teams like the Yankees, the Cowboys, high school football teams like Concorde De La Salle (well...maybe on a smaller level...but they did win 151 games in a row!), and of course....my beloved Lakers.
Now, let me start off by saying that I do not associate myself with say, bandwagoners. Sure, the Lakers probably have the most NBA fans, possess the most NBA Finals appearances, and, for the most part, because of their market, enjoy winning seasons, because, let's face it....Los Angeles isn't such a shabby place to live if one is looking for ultimate stardom. The Glitz. The Glamour. Jack Nicholson sitting courtside with the signature shades. And all the fame-hungry -women -that-any-athlete-would-love-to-fulfill-the insecurities-that-daddy-left-them. Why wouldn't the Lakers be good, when money, success, and fame can be tied to one organization?
But does that make me a fan? No, but it makes it that much more bearable. Bearable because even during times of failure, I can have true hope that my team will make the effort to turn it around. It's the Lakers. The Purple and Gold. Colors that only royalty can claim as their own. And colors that, by themselves, seem a tad on the feminine side when one chooses their wardrobe, but when associated with the Lakers, are worn proudly when the basketball mesh is pulled over their head.
Fourteen years ago, when I was nine years old, I officially became a Lakers fan. I had uncles, parents, and grandparents who cheered for the Lakers over the last couple of decades. But it wasn't until 96-97 season that I began tuning into Fox Sports West and watching every Lakers game that I could. That was the year Kobe Bryant was drafted, and fortunately for us, the Charlotte Hornets felt that aging big man Vlade Divac would pay better dividends for them and traded their young prodigy away to Los Angeles.
It was during this time too, that the big fella out of Orlando wanted out. The big fella, known universally today by one syllable, Shaq, decided to leave the Magic to join the bright lights of Los Angeles in order further his career as an athlete, a rapper, and become the triple threat talent by making critically acclaimed films like Kazaam and Steel (...yes I kid...).
As a nine year old, I couldn't help but admire these young Lakers take the floor. Shaq and his ferocious slams, Kobe's 360 dunks, and even Nick Van Exel's heel kickin' three pointers. They were fun to watch, and being young basketball fan, you couldn't ask for better entertainment. There wasn't a week that went by when single-digit-aged George didn't sport the NUMBER 8 Great Western Forum Lakers jersey.
To this day, I have yet to miss more than maybe a handful of Lakers games. Hell, I missed only one Lakers game last year, and with DVR in the 21st century, I don't plan on missing many more.
I could go on and on about the Kobe airballs in Utah, the Kobe-Shaq squabble, Rick Fox's tunnel skirmishes with Doug Christie, the Boston beatdowns, the Eagle Colorado fiasco, the Shaq trade, the other Shaq trade, oh and the other Shaq trade...but I digress.
The truth is, I love the Lakers, and I love the NBA. I follow anything associated with the LEAGUE, because, let's face it, it's important to scout your competition. And when chances when, say, a Threepeat can be threatened, it's important for a true fan to recognize the foes that go against your true warriors that you support (and no, that wasn't a reference to Ron Artest's record Label Tru Warier that produced hits like "Workout" and "I Love Middle Eastern Women"...oh Ron, drop the Hennessy).
So when teams like the Miami Thrice are formed, it's important for one to analyze the repercussions of such a collaboration of talent. Because maybe, just maybe, the Lakers bandwagon might become a little lighter. And although I'd never consider myself a bandwagon fan, I do drive the vehicle...so get off if you're gonna "take your talents to South Beach" because I'm the designated driver....
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Define Insanity
They say insanity is doing something over and over again, in the same manner, expecting a different result. This is pretty spot-on. This is also how you can describe me as a fan.
Every year I pump myself up for a fantastic season. I have expectations (not ridiculous ones) and usually put the goals for the season where I think the team can actually achieve them. I'm not ridiculous in the sense that I feel like this is the season that my Phoenix Suns are finally going to win their first ever championship. That is, not at first.
I usually am pretty accurate with my thoughts on my predictions for my own team. Last year is a perfect example. During the off-season, we'd managed to con the Cleveland Cavaliers to take Shaq off of our hands (no, we didn't get anything in return except cap-space; it was addition by subtraction as far as I'm concerned) and also added underachieving big man Channing Frye. It was also going to be our first full season with newly acquired Jason Richardson and Jared Dudley and our ageless wonders Steve Nash and Grant Hill were said to be as healthy as ever. However, after our difficult 08-09 season, where we missed the playoffs for the first time in the Nash era, most of the experts believed us to be repeating that result once more.
Not me.
I knew we were better than people thought and said we'd end up in the top 4 in the West before all was said and done. Friends scoffed. Bosses at work (Lakers fans, of course) ridiculed. But I knew deep down we were dangerous. And I was right. You see, being a fan sometimes allows you to see things that others do not. And this was one of those times. And as we got off to one of the best starts in the league, people began wondering if maybe we would make the playoffs after all.
This was when I jumped even further all-in with that team. I had set up for myself reasonable expectations (higher expectations, if you asked anyone else) that resulted in a second round exit from the playoffs. This would still be a successful season. But once we started really rolling, (beating the Celtics in Boston, taking care of the Magic at home) I became, for lack of a better word, insane.
This was the same thing I'd seen year after year. An overachieving Suns team, scrappy, defenseless (even though "we're much more serious about D this year" seemed to be the mantra as usual) and on any given night, able to beat the league's elite teams. But something about that team shined brighter to me. The camaraderie was incredible (e.g. Steve Nash, the captain and single most important player to any team in the league, began filming short videos - directing is a hobby of MVSteve's - starring the members of the Suns. Examples include an Avatar spoof, a karaoke session, and, well, guy humor). And above all, we were winning. This was not my father's Suns teams, that either got too far behind early and couldn't come back all the way, or got out to gigantic leads and watched them fade away. We were closing teams out. We were hitting big shots. And we were winning over casual fans, as we were fun to watch (and even more fun to be a fan of).
So I talked myself into a deeper run into the playoffs. I was logically arguing that if we could get to the 3 spot, we could make it to the Western Conference Finals against the Lakers (assuming they would be there) and then all bets would be off. And maybe, just maybe, this year would be a cinematic experience and the little team that could. . . could just be my Phoenix Suns.
Define insanity.
We all know what happened next. We did ride a wave of hope and confidence into the WCF, finally conquering Mt. Spurs (in sweeping fashion, no less) and putting the Lakers in the risky spot of being tied 2-2 against a scrappy bunch with a raucous crowd at its back (I would know - I drove from L.A. to Phoenix just for Game 4 and it was one of the top 5 moments of my life. . .).
And then this happened:
That sound you hear is me banging my head against my computer desk. . .
Depression set in. The Finals went by and my least favorite team (nay, THING, ever - there is nothing I despise more than the Los Angeles Lakers) won their second title in a row.
Now it's August. Lebron is in Miami (if you hadn't heard), our starting Power Forward, whom we drafted and groomed, is now in New York. Our GM, Steve Kerr, jumped ship and went back to calling games for TNT. And the Lakers are still the defending champions. . .
But then a funny thing happened. The Suns, my beloved purple and orange, started making some moves. Traded for PLAYERS instead of cap-space. Stayed relevant. Caused some stirs. Wrote some headlines. Started my mind on the track that another year with this type of a group, playing together for one single goal, could possibly be successful where no other Suns team has been in history.
For lack of a better word, they created further insanity for yours truly.
And you see, it's because I love my team. From Two-Time (I have many more nicknames for my all-time favorite player - you'll get used to it) to our coach, Alvin Gentry, to everyone in between, I am about as big of a fan as it gets. I live for those Thursday nights when we have a nationally televised game (unless it's on TNT - we never win on TNT!). I research our draft picks. I study our offense. I re-watch old wins that I have recorded to put myself in a better mood.
I am a die-hard. And welcome to my blog. . .
Every year I pump myself up for a fantastic season. I have expectations (not ridiculous ones) and usually put the goals for the season where I think the team can actually achieve them. I'm not ridiculous in the sense that I feel like this is the season that my Phoenix Suns are finally going to win their first ever championship. That is, not at first.
I usually am pretty accurate with my thoughts on my predictions for my own team. Last year is a perfect example. During the off-season, we'd managed to con the Cleveland Cavaliers to take Shaq off of our hands (no, we didn't get anything in return except cap-space; it was addition by subtraction as far as I'm concerned) and also added underachieving big man Channing Frye. It was also going to be our first full season with newly acquired Jason Richardson and Jared Dudley and our ageless wonders Steve Nash and Grant Hill were said to be as healthy as ever. However, after our difficult 08-09 season, where we missed the playoffs for the first time in the Nash era, most of the experts believed us to be repeating that result once more.
Not me.
I knew we were better than people thought and said we'd end up in the top 4 in the West before all was said and done. Friends scoffed. Bosses at work (Lakers fans, of course) ridiculed. But I knew deep down we were dangerous. And I was right. You see, being a fan sometimes allows you to see things that others do not. And this was one of those times. And as we got off to one of the best starts in the league, people began wondering if maybe we would make the playoffs after all.
This was when I jumped even further all-in with that team. I had set up for myself reasonable expectations (higher expectations, if you asked anyone else) that resulted in a second round exit from the playoffs. This would still be a successful season. But once we started really rolling, (beating the Celtics in Boston, taking care of the Magic at home) I became, for lack of a better word, insane.
This was the same thing I'd seen year after year. An overachieving Suns team, scrappy, defenseless (even though "we're much more serious about D this year" seemed to be the mantra as usual) and on any given night, able to beat the league's elite teams. But something about that team shined brighter to me. The camaraderie was incredible (e.g. Steve Nash, the captain and single most important player to any team in the league, began filming short videos - directing is a hobby of MVSteve's - starring the members of the Suns. Examples include an Avatar spoof, a karaoke session, and, well, guy humor). And above all, we were winning. This was not my father's Suns teams, that either got too far behind early and couldn't come back all the way, or got out to gigantic leads and watched them fade away. We were closing teams out. We were hitting big shots. And we were winning over casual fans, as we were fun to watch (and even more fun to be a fan of).
So I talked myself into a deeper run into the playoffs. I was logically arguing that if we could get to the 3 spot, we could make it to the Western Conference Finals against the Lakers (assuming they would be there) and then all bets would be off. And maybe, just maybe, this year would be a cinematic experience and the little team that could. . . could just be my Phoenix Suns.
Define insanity.
We all know what happened next. We did ride a wave of hope and confidence into the WCF, finally conquering Mt. Spurs (in sweeping fashion, no less) and putting the Lakers in the risky spot of being tied 2-2 against a scrappy bunch with a raucous crowd at its back (I would know - I drove from L.A. to Phoenix just for Game 4 and it was one of the top 5 moments of my life. . .).
And then this happened:
That sound you hear is me banging my head against my computer desk. . .
Depression set in. The Finals went by and my least favorite team (nay, THING, ever - there is nothing I despise more than the Los Angeles Lakers) won their second title in a row.
Now it's August. Lebron is in Miami (if you hadn't heard), our starting Power Forward, whom we drafted and groomed, is now in New York. Our GM, Steve Kerr, jumped ship and went back to calling games for TNT. And the Lakers are still the defending champions. . .
But then a funny thing happened. The Suns, my beloved purple and orange, started making some moves. Traded for PLAYERS instead of cap-space. Stayed relevant. Caused some stirs. Wrote some headlines. Started my mind on the track that another year with this type of a group, playing together for one single goal, could possibly be successful where no other Suns team has been in history.
For lack of a better word, they created further insanity for yours truly.
And you see, it's because I love my team. From Two-Time (I have many more nicknames for my all-time favorite player - you'll get used to it) to our coach, Alvin Gentry, to everyone in between, I am about as big of a fan as it gets. I live for those Thursday nights when we have a nationally televised game (unless it's on TNT - we never win on TNT!). I research our draft picks. I study our offense. I re-watch old wins that I have recorded to put myself in a better mood.
I am a die-hard. And welcome to my blog. . .
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