FanPost

My Game 7 Experience in San Antonio

(I posted this elsewhere originally where some friends could read it, but I thought maybe a handful of you would find it interesting.  If not, I apologize for clogging up the diary list even more.)

I left Houston around 2pm for the 7pm start. I got in early...around 5pm. Ironically, I had always thought that the structure that is the Alamodome was the SBC Center (or ATT...whatever), perhaps because the Spurs used to play there. So, I show up there, and I'm like...FREE PARKING! YES!

Anyways, I realized I was lost and met up with my 3 friends in San Antonio (2 of which are Mavs fans originally from Dallas). There were quite a few Mavs fans walking up to the game. It was a fun atmosphere with Mavs fans high-fiving each other and feeling pretty optimistic. I wasn't very optimistic...I was so nervous that I felt like I needed to take a shit (which I hadn't all day).  

We go in, and there are a ton of Spurs fans holding up stupid signs, thinking they are clever. One person was handing out flyers of a picture of Dirk morphed into a picture of Lurch from Addams Family. Pretty gay. Another guy was dressed up like a clown and holding a poster that said he was Mark Cuban, the official clown of the NBA. Another guy had one of those "priceless" signs, and the last one was "PAYING Michael Finley to beat you in the playoffs...priceless". OK, so that one was pretty funny.

We were up near the nose-bleeds, but near mid-court. It's a decent arena, even though it resembles a barn from the outside. Unfortunately, we didn't have 4 seats together, we had 2 pairs. So I'm sitting with the Spurs fan of the 3 friends I'm with, meaning I'm the only Mavs fan in the immediate vicinity, although there were quite a few sprinkled throughout the surrounding sections.

As I sit down, Spurs fans throw some good-natured trash talk my way. I don't respond...mostly because I have a bad feeling about the game, and I don't want to get harassed the whole game.

National Anthem was sung by 3 guys named "Vapor". Just ridiculously bad.  That's the best they could do for Game 7?  3 guys that look like they got pulled out of a gay karaoke bar?

As the Mavs pulled away in the 1st and 2nd quarters, I heard several Spurs fans say around me, "We're getting all the calls and we're STILL getting our asses kicked." I still can't believe the Mavs shot close to 70% for a half...just ridiculous. I was cautiously optimistic, but part of me was waiting for the inevitable collapse.

Meanwhile, I'm still nervous, especially after the Spurs cut it to 14 at halftime. I knew the Spurs were going to come out swinging in the 3rd quarter, and it's a shame that a team that outshot their opponents so badly in a half weren't up by much more, but it looked like the refs were trying to keep San Antonio in the game.

Spurs rallying...crowd gaining momentum. Me getting sick to my stomach, wondering if this was going to be the worst night of my life, compounded by the fact that I'd have to drive back to Houston in the middle of the night after a crushing Game 7 choke job.

When Manu hit the 3, I had no emotion. I wanted to cry. I couldn't. I just stared ahead with the Cameron Face (from Ferris Bueller's Day Off after his dad's car got totalled). Some obnoxious fan behind me gets an inch away from the back of my head screaming so I could hear it since the crowd was so loud. Instead, I only felt spit fly out of his mouth and hit the back of my neck. I should've been pissed, but instead I just stared ahead, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that he was looking for. Ironically, when the Mavs ran away in OT, the Spurs fans behind me ran away before I could say anything.

Anyway, I got home at 1:50am and woke up at 6:30 feeling on top of the world.

Bring on Nash!