These words from Mike on our last night in St. Louis, as we were sitting on the floor of our room planning the next leg of our trip. Now it's the very end of Day Eighteen and I have to say, past Mike, that I was not at all prepared. Not at all! And I reckon that the NBA was not quite prepared for the Amazing Awesome Game-Changing Power that I wield.
Everything appeared normal when we left Memphis this morning. We indulged in in a delicious breakfast buffet and meandered onto the freeway just about a quarter to ten. A little late, but still relatively normal.
Our gas stop today was in Tremont, Mississippi. It was clear that these folk did not want us around. Not when we had California plates, a foreign car, an Obama sticker in the window, and sandals on our feet. So intensely did they not want us around that they did not advertise their gas station on their exit sign. Lucky us that we found it anyway! Here is a handy travel tip: sometimes it's better to run on fumes. Scary, unsettling, but I'd guess it's pretty normal for small town Mississippi.
Then we arrived in Atlanta, and that's when things began to get crazy. A lightning storm rolled in with us, so we probably should have known that there was magic in the air (also electricity. Both of these, incidentally, were harnessed by Ben Franklin. U.S. History, buddy. Learn it!). We checked into our sweet hotel, then took the MARTA rail to the Philips Center, where I was fated to use my Amazing Awesome Game-Changing Power to help my second NBA team in a row to a mind-boggling upset.
"But Shar!" you all hiss in horrifying unison, "No way you used magic to win the game. That's just impossible!" Funny you should mention it, because that's #1 of the extensive list of obvious clues to my Power.
1. A Pasta Bowl. The Atlanta Hawks' arena had an extensive and fantastic food court full of choices. We dined on pasta bowls, which, besides being good for carb-ing up before a big race, are also notorious magic-enhancers. Nothing's im-pasta-bowl when you're on Mike&SharTours!
2. Atlantape. Before the game-- yes, bandwagon fans, that is Before The Game Even Started-- we hit the team store to gear up to cheer for our temporary hometown's team. I bought a rally monkey I've named Atlantape. You might think this is a pun, being the sum of Atlanta + Ape. You'd be wrong. Stupidly, embarrassingly wrong. In fact, his name is the sum of Atlanta + Tape. As in, Scotch tape. As in, Scotch Magic tape, what which holds things together invisibly. No one could have predicted the outcome of tonight's game. No one, that is, 'cept for me and my monkey.
3. Terrible Towel. I have long been an admirer of the Terrible Towel, which I've seen in action in many televised sporting events. Never before have I myself gotten to whip one about my head with joy and vigor, showering myself and those around me with a snow of towel fibers. Ever heard the expression "Third time's the charm"? Well, it's actually a mistranslation of the original Aramaic. The actual adage is: "First time's the magic."
4. The Hawks. As a quick Wikipedia search would reveal, I am a distinguished alum of Stanford Middle School in Long Beach, CA. Our mascot was the Red Hawks. I don't think I need to explain why this proves I'm magic.
5. I am a notorious and bawdy hater of all things Irish. Just kidding. No I'm not. (Observe the lexical ambiguity. Intentional, I assure you).
6. Me. Let's not forget that, in my first ever NBA basketball game, I led the Seattle SuuuuuperSonics to a wild double-OT victory over the heavily favored Denver Nuggets. Now, for my second game, my 8th-seeded Atlanta Hawks beat the first seed Celtics with the ease and lethality of the similarly-named bird of prey. The common factor? It doesn't take a Mr. Monk to know that I'm the culprit. And it doesn't take a Larry Bird to know that it's cuz I'm magic.
So, yeah. I'm pretty stoked. I've never been part of such an energetic crowd before. Chants of "Let's Go Hawks!" carried us from our seats, down the escalators, into the streets, onto our train, and all the way back to the hotel. My throat got trashed during the game, but you better believe I was chanting too.
Today we listened to: a Neil Young mix, Ben Folds Five (Ben Folds Five), "Wagon Wheel" by Old Crow Medicine Show, and a stadium full of people singing "Living on a Prayer" at the top of their lungs.
Mystery words: "It could have killed him five times before we could even get out of the elevator."
Mike tells it like it is: astoriedyear.blogspot.com & LBPostSports.com
1 comment:
Wow! how cool that you went to a huge upset! i bet the fans were crazy excited! way to go!
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