Only at NBA games can you hear the phrase “Boom Chaka Laka” and take it somewhat seriously. At the end of the first quarter last night, Brandon Roy got the ball back with 4-ish seconds left, tried to drain a 3 and rimmed it—only to have Martell Webster come flying out of nowhere with a monster rebound/dunk as the clock expired. It was epic—everyone was on their feet as the aforementioned phrase was yelled over the PA and displayed on the jumbotron. I’ve never yelled harder at a basketball game. And that was just the first quarter.
There are three other things of note about the Blazers game last night:
1) Ross and I took the MAX red-line over to the Rose Garden (hooray, public transport) and ended up standing next to two of the most stereotypically gay men on the face of the planet. In the course of our 25 minute train-ride, we heard them discuss why they liked going to Portland State University (because there are, and I quote, “so many other homos to hit on there, it’s great”), how one of them hooked up with a dude at a party, only to find out in the morning that he was sixteen years old, and discuss which one of them had the more effeminate lisp (okay, I made that part up). Far be it from me to criticize other people’s lifestyles and/or life-choices, but dear lord, where is your couth, gentlemen? Even I, Jeff talksaboutalotofdirtyshit Kennedy, have more restraint than that in a group of strangers (my other middle name is “Adam”).
2) When we got to the stadium and met up with my boss, Neal, he was already starting his fourth beer. Mind you, those beers are $8.50 a piece, so he had already spent the equivalent cost of his ticket on beer. So yeah, I felt that little sting of pride as I ordered a Sprite with my red beans and rice at the stadium (sidebar: Portland is not New Orleans. There is no southern/cajun/creole culture here. Why are we serving cajun food at our arena, exactly? I could see some variety of Asian food, since there’s a shitton of that here. But, I digress…).
3) The Blazers were wearing the sweetest alternate uniforms ever created alst night. Check this shit out:
That’s right—RIP CITY. The name came from the Blazers’ inaugural season, when someone took a really long shot (back when there was no 3-pt line), made it, and the voice of Portland sports, Bill Schonely, yelled out “RIP CITY!” This is the 40th anniversary season of the team, and so they decided to make the sweetest uniforms ever in commemoration. Easily the most badass nickname of any sports city in the country.
So, in news of all things mustache, I’m shaving tomorrow night. No more beard or five-o’clock shadow—just ‘stache. It’s nowhere up to par—yet?—but I think it’s time.
Quote from Deaton’s drunkdial last night: “You are one sober sonuvabitch, you know that? But you’re a stubborn sonofabitch with an iron will, you’re gonna fuckin’ do this.” Thanks, intoxicated friend!