Friday, March 5, 2010

Tangled thoughts: the Nets, losing, and the ultimate game

Just rambling here. Thoughts. Incoherent. WTF! This is something I wrote the other day after the New Jersey Nets (6-54 and well on their way to break Philadelphia's record for futility) lost for the gazillionth time.

I used to go watch the New Jersey Nets at the Meadowlands back when they had Jason Kidd running their high-octane offense. Even after consecutive NBA Finals appearances, the Continental Airlines Arena didn’t see much of a full house. People would only come in when the Lakers, Spurs, the Cavs, and the Knicks were visiting. The Knicks simply because many fans lived in Jersey.

It wasn’t difficult getting tickets. Not at all. A couple of times, I’d get tickets to the nosebleed seats. By the half, I’d be down in the better seats. Empty seats don’t look good on camera so the ushers at times would ask us if we’d like to move. I really don’t know if those who paid for the expensive seats knew that after all, they couldn’t see us all the way up.

But when things went south, it didn’t justify spending around $70 for the ticket, hotdogs, and gas money going to the Meadowlands when the team was losing. So I preferred to watch from home where I could switch channels if a blowout was in the making.

To begin with, I am a Bulls (another exercise in patience and understanding despite being 31-29) fan but to fly to Chicago just to watch a game didn’t sound too reasonable. I did once or twice but only when I was in the Windy City for other matters. So I guess, I don’t count as being fair-weather about the Nets. They were fun to watch with Kidd running out the break and K-Mart and Richard Jefferson on the wings getting ready to take off for some death-defying slam.

When the news broke that the Nets were moving to Brooklyn, then the fans came back. Only then. Although they did when Vince Carter joined the team but their continued mediocrity saw attendance dwindle once more.

Do I weep for the Nets?

Not really. But who wishes a lousy season on them? No one days except for malicious and evil minds. Plus maybe the move to the Barclays Center in Brooklyn will help. A change of scenery is always good but still not sure. I kinda still miss the Seattle Supersonics.

However, I can’t say the same thing with the New York Islanders. I would take the LIRR oft by my lonesome since most of my friends never cared for hockey (the one that did was a Rangers fan). Even when they were real bad.

I would flagellate myself at times after a blowout at the waste of time and money. Sometimes, I wouldn’t finish the game or rush out to get a ride back to Manhattan. More so when I was living in New Jersey. The last thing I wanted was to transfer platforms at Port Authority to take the 99S bus back (at late night or past midnight, the bus would move to a higher platform or to the basement and they’d arrive like once an hour and if the line was long, I’d be stuck in the terminal for two hours).

I still get that same feeling when I would watch some local varsity teams. The other year, I began writing about the NU Bulldogs but found it hard to write game accounts after two consecutive blowouts. There’s the standard formulaic way of sports writing where you write who won, the score, looked out for scoring runs and statistical highlights capped by the ubiquitous quote from a player or coach that one can make up in their sleep. But I don’t write that way. So I stopped. The other day, a colleague from the Business Mirror noted that the Bulldogs’ baseball team was competing for a rare championship (they lost in two games to Adamson). Emphasis on “rare.” Say this for those guys from Sampaloc, they have guts to compete when usually before matches, the odds are stacked against them. I interviewed a number of their officials, coaches, and players over the years and they all said that it was hard. It hurt to lose more so after repeatedly getting blown out and the players would give it. It was so hard to get up from their seats after. They were never numb to the losing. In fact, they never got used to it. Former basketball coach Manny Dandan once said, “Life’s like that. Not everyone gets the pretty girl, is born rich, or has all the goods. Most have to work harder at it. Kami yun.”

In the first year of John Flores’ coaching tenure with the Ateneo Lady Eagles, one player scoffed when she saw a couple of alumni up in the stands after the team had won three matches that year (previously they lost more than 30 consecutive matches). Said the player in a mocking tone but only for her teammates and coaches to hear, “Hey, we’ve got fans! Why don’t you leave? We don’t need you.”

Flores, in defense of the two fans, said, “C’mon. You should be thankful that someone is now watching. After all, who in his right mind would want to watch when you've never won anything?”

A colleague of mine would ask me every week that it’s become a litany I’ve come to expect – “So what’s happening to your Liverpool?”

I regularly keeps tabs. The Reds have been a pain to watch and the season is lost already. I support them still and cheer when they pull off a win and have the air sucked out of me when they lose. I guess like my other favorite teams, I die these little deaths when they suffer these huge setbacks. Time was when Ginebra (or Ateneo) would lose a game, I wouldn’t be able to sleep. Even in school, when we’d lose a football match, I’d be down. Not just for a day but for several days. It took me a while to learn how to let go.

What helped me get by was hearing that quote by former Dallas Cowboys QB Duane Thomas about the Super Bowl.

"If it’s the ultimate game, how come they are playing it again next year?"

Yes, there’s always another day to try again.

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