Monday, April 27, 2009

I am supposed to be productive on Monday after that? I think not.

I woke up yesterday morning feeling like I’d been hit by a train. 36 holes of golf on Saturday had taken its toll on me and I wanted to do nothing more than take up residence on the couch. I purposely left my phone in my bedroom (on vibrate) because I just didn’t want to deal with the outside world. But just on chance, I went back in there and found that my phone was vibrating:

9:30: My best friend is on the phone offering me Bulls tickets if I want to go. I don’t want to go, thus I am not all that enthusiastic about taking them. But I say I’ll make a call or two and see if I can find someone to go with me and I’ll call back with the yay/nay answer.

9:40: Talk to one of my friends, ask him to go. However, he is also less than enthusiastic. But he says he will think about it and call me back.

9:50: Get a call back. He doesn’t want to go but his girlfriend (his better half) tells him in true Jim Mora fashion: PLAYOFFS?!?! Her encouragement is the reason that we went and I am so thankful that we did.

12:00: Arrive at the United Center

12:01 on: Witness the greatest Bulls game...scratch that…greatest single sports game that I have ever been to.
Nearing the End of Regulation: Please. Someone. Anyone. Guard Ray Allen. Never mind...Bonus Basketball

The First Overtime: Simple backstory: I hate Ben Gordon. He shoots too much. And he doesn’t pass. With ten seconds left, my friend that I went with calls that BG is going to shoot a three to tie. My thoughts as this unfolds: “No. No. No. NO. NO!!! NO!!!!! YESSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

During Overtime #2: With about 45 seconds left in the second overtime, my stomach has gone knotted to slip knot to sailors knot to full Windsor and back again. The elderly gent to my left makes a grand pronouncement: “We got this. This game is over.” The Bulls went from up five to up one and then they attempt to hand Boston the ball on the inbounds play. “It doesn’t matter this game is over.” I lightly embrace his shoulder, “Sir, nothing is over until the clock reads zeroes and we have more points than the other team. Please, for my stomach’s sake, do not tempt fate. Because if you continue to do so, my stomach may exit my body and kill you.” He looks dumbfounded. “These things have been known to happen.” But he stopped his yammering. Then Boston missed their chance to tie. And the game was over.

Maybe, just maybe, the NBA is on to something with the “Where Amazing Happens” campaign.