Post by Man in Black on Apr 30, 2010 0:51:07 GMT -5
Now, the few people around here that know me may think that this post is referring to the Bobcats losing the playoff game I recently attended, but that has nothing to do with the reason I may never go to another NBA game.
This requires a bit of back story that I had tried to forget and get over so that I could enjoy watching basketball.
The first NBA game I went to was also in Charlotte - The Hornets vs The Sonics - L.J. and Mourning vs Shawn Kemp. A friend won court-side tickets right under the basket and said friend didn't watch basketball. So lucky me right? I took my little sister-in-law who was also a big fan and we had a great time at the game even getting to see Kemp hammer down an alley-oop right above our heads. The Hornets lost, but we still had fun.
After the game I just felt really strange. For some reason I didn't want to go home. I couldn't put my finger on it but I was nervous. We actually went to the big mall and saw a couple of movies before heading back. When I did get home nobody was there and I found a note for me to go to my Mom's house. I immediately knew why I was so worried... my Dad had died. He had been sick for a long time and it was not a major shock, but I had just spent the day with him before we left and he was doing better than he'd been doing in months. He died during the basketball game.
The second game I went to was with my Mom's church. She talked me into getting discount tickets from them and riding their bus to Charlotte. I felt bad about being at the first game when my Dad died, but I wanted to get it out of my head so I agreed. When we got on the bus the preacher got on last and gave a speech about how he was going to crack down on people abusing the church trips by getting deals on the fun but not actually going to church. He was looking at me the whole time. I went to church, but I went with my wife because her Dad was a preacher at his own church. I felt so bad the whole time that I don't even remember the game. The Hornets beat Iverson and the 76ers... that's all I remember.
Of course then the Hornets traded all their talent away and took off to New Orleans and I just stuck with The Admiral and my Spurs.
I've made an extended effort to try to like the Bobcats. MJ getting involved helped me become a fan... so I decided that I'd give the whole thing another shot.
Playoff ticket in hand I drove to Charlotte this past Monday afternoon. I felt horrible and hurt all over, but dang it I gotta do something right? My medicine has me taking bathroom breaks way too frequently, but I did make it to a K-Mart within a mile of the arena. As I'm coming out of the K-Mart, post restroom stop, I notice an NBA basketball gum machine. (Only Jason will get this part of the story) I swear on Marino's right arm this actually happened - the thing was full of Hornets balls - yellow and blue little traitor balls. I put 50 cents in anyways and out came a yellow and blue ball. I went outside contemplating tossing it in the parking lot, but as I turned it over in my hand lo and behold it was the yellow and blue of the Denver Nuggets... I swear... 2 quarters, 1 try, one Nuggets ball.
I'm not going to lie, this scared me a good bit. I started thinking of my history with the NBA and I truly thought about just going home. I'm not really into signs and superstitions, but I do think things happen for a reason sometimes and I have learned the hard way that gut instinct is nearly always the right instinct. But with my brother-in-law meeting me at the game I put it out of my mind and trudged on.
The game itself was enjoyable. I love to spend time with my brother-in-law and they gave away free shirts and programs for the playoffs. We had great seats and the place was really rocking.
But... and there's always a but... after the game we went our separate ways and I walked the 3 blocks back to my Jeep. I even enjoyed the walk forgetting about my out of whack back and neck, taking pictures of the glowing Queen City skyline while ignoring 2 Magic fans behind me chanting "Jake Delhomme" at me (because of the Panthers jersey I carried with me in case it got cool). Then here comes the but, I opened the door to my Jeep and was horrified to find the contents strewn all over like the FBI had been on one of those searches like in the movies.
Some ass-clowns had broke into my car. I knew what they had taken, but I reached down under my seat for it anyway. My Nikon was gone. The thing - THE thing I had bought myself with my disability money to make up for all the stress of going through that crap. My beloved camera that has genuinely brightened my life for the past year.
They took my prescription medicine (which I hoped they choked on though it has been recovered now) and they took Joyce... my GPS... yes I named her Joyce and just plain trashed the inside of my Jeep - nothing damaged, just trashed.
Now, Phillip you big dummy why did you leave all that stuff in your Jeep in Charlotte? Well, it's not as dumb as it sounds. I paid 5 bucks to park at a gated church parking lot directly across the street from the Federal building and within direct sight of the players parking lot that had the same policeman stationed there the entire time. (I know this because he ran me out of that parking lot and he was also the cop I reported the theft to). And I was staying overnight that night at my Sister's... so where else could I have put my stuff?
I'm over it now... and as always I tell myself there are people way worse off than me. Plus the dork wads didn't take the lens so I only need a camera body and after I cancel the Best Buy warranty and get that refund I will be able to replace my Nikon for around 400 bucks. (It originally cost me over 1,200).
So, I may never ever go to another NBA game again and I'll definitely never park that Jeep in Charlotte anymore... but Jason buddy I'm sending you a Nuggets souvenir that tried to warn me of danger and has way more history than any other plastic printed ping pong ball I can think of.
This requires a bit of back story that I had tried to forget and get over so that I could enjoy watching basketball.
The first NBA game I went to was also in Charlotte - The Hornets vs The Sonics - L.J. and Mourning vs Shawn Kemp. A friend won court-side tickets right under the basket and said friend didn't watch basketball. So lucky me right? I took my little sister-in-law who was also a big fan and we had a great time at the game even getting to see Kemp hammer down an alley-oop right above our heads. The Hornets lost, but we still had fun.
After the game I just felt really strange. For some reason I didn't want to go home. I couldn't put my finger on it but I was nervous. We actually went to the big mall and saw a couple of movies before heading back. When I did get home nobody was there and I found a note for me to go to my Mom's house. I immediately knew why I was so worried... my Dad had died. He had been sick for a long time and it was not a major shock, but I had just spent the day with him before we left and he was doing better than he'd been doing in months. He died during the basketball game.
The second game I went to was with my Mom's church. She talked me into getting discount tickets from them and riding their bus to Charlotte. I felt bad about being at the first game when my Dad died, but I wanted to get it out of my head so I agreed. When we got on the bus the preacher got on last and gave a speech about how he was going to crack down on people abusing the church trips by getting deals on the fun but not actually going to church. He was looking at me the whole time. I went to church, but I went with my wife because her Dad was a preacher at his own church. I felt so bad the whole time that I don't even remember the game. The Hornets beat Iverson and the 76ers... that's all I remember.
Of course then the Hornets traded all their talent away and took off to New Orleans and I just stuck with The Admiral and my Spurs.
I've made an extended effort to try to like the Bobcats. MJ getting involved helped me become a fan... so I decided that I'd give the whole thing another shot.
Playoff ticket in hand I drove to Charlotte this past Monday afternoon. I felt horrible and hurt all over, but dang it I gotta do something right? My medicine has me taking bathroom breaks way too frequently, but I did make it to a K-Mart within a mile of the arena. As I'm coming out of the K-Mart, post restroom stop, I notice an NBA basketball gum machine. (Only Jason will get this part of the story) I swear on Marino's right arm this actually happened - the thing was full of Hornets balls - yellow and blue little traitor balls. I put 50 cents in anyways and out came a yellow and blue ball. I went outside contemplating tossing it in the parking lot, but as I turned it over in my hand lo and behold it was the yellow and blue of the Denver Nuggets... I swear... 2 quarters, 1 try, one Nuggets ball.
I'm not going to lie, this scared me a good bit. I started thinking of my history with the NBA and I truly thought about just going home. I'm not really into signs and superstitions, but I do think things happen for a reason sometimes and I have learned the hard way that gut instinct is nearly always the right instinct. But with my brother-in-law meeting me at the game I put it out of my mind and trudged on.
The game itself was enjoyable. I love to spend time with my brother-in-law and they gave away free shirts and programs for the playoffs. We had great seats and the place was really rocking.
But... and there's always a but... after the game we went our separate ways and I walked the 3 blocks back to my Jeep. I even enjoyed the walk forgetting about my out of whack back and neck, taking pictures of the glowing Queen City skyline while ignoring 2 Magic fans behind me chanting "Jake Delhomme" at me (because of the Panthers jersey I carried with me in case it got cool). Then here comes the but, I opened the door to my Jeep and was horrified to find the contents strewn all over like the FBI had been on one of those searches like in the movies.
Some ass-clowns had broke into my car. I knew what they had taken, but I reached down under my seat for it anyway. My Nikon was gone. The thing - THE thing I had bought myself with my disability money to make up for all the stress of going through that crap. My beloved camera that has genuinely brightened my life for the past year.
They took my prescription medicine (which I hoped they choked on though it has been recovered now) and they took Joyce... my GPS... yes I named her Joyce and just plain trashed the inside of my Jeep - nothing damaged, just trashed.
Now, Phillip you big dummy why did you leave all that stuff in your Jeep in Charlotte? Well, it's not as dumb as it sounds. I paid 5 bucks to park at a gated church parking lot directly across the street from the Federal building and within direct sight of the players parking lot that had the same policeman stationed there the entire time. (I know this because he ran me out of that parking lot and he was also the cop I reported the theft to). And I was staying overnight that night at my Sister's... so where else could I have put my stuff?
I'm over it now... and as always I tell myself there are people way worse off than me. Plus the dork wads didn't take the lens so I only need a camera body and after I cancel the Best Buy warranty and get that refund I will be able to replace my Nikon for around 400 bucks. (It originally cost me over 1,200).
So, I may never ever go to another NBA game again and I'll definitely never park that Jeep in Charlotte anymore... but Jason buddy I'm sending you a Nuggets souvenir that tried to warn me of danger and has way more history than any other plastic printed ping pong ball I can think of.
As a kid, I was bullied, I was a pretty small guy and though I had a ton of kickboxing experience already, I was always afraid to use it because I was terrified of getting detention. 