Sports Fans

I spent a perfectly lovely evening with D2 and friends and neighbors Pat and Patrick. Pat senior came over with a bottle of Middleton, the Irish whiskey he intoduced me to years ago, and the 4 of us retreated to my sports room to watch the Heat open the NBA finals.

Pat is a Bull Gator, which means he's a major contributing alum, and he enjoyed hearing about D2's experiences, especially her conclusion that she can't imagine anyone enjoying college as much anywhere else...

Patrick junior is a terrific young man --entering high school this Fall at Ransom, and smart, kind, and most knowledgeable about sports. His only negative is that he follows his father's religion, and loves the Gators, too...

I'd like to see the Heat win, but I'm too jaded to be a real fan. College sports, as corrupt as they are, still seem purer to me. The Heat's billionaire owner had their millionaire manager, Pat Riley, convince star players to "take their talents to South Beach," and, exactly as predicted, are kicking everyone's butts.

It's nice for a city when the team wins, but I don't really FEEL it, as I do when the Canes win (or lose).

Part of it is my populist upbringing. I used to go to NY Nets games, back when they were in the ABA, and it seemed a true communal event. Richer folks than my family sat closer, but it was all one arena. The teacher and bus driver actually felt equal to the stockbroker or lawyer...

Same with the Mets, at Shea. It's embarrasing to admit, but I actually met my fist black person at a Mets game. His name was Luther, and he worked for the Urban League, and I remember him being impressed that a white kid from Levittown knew all about Mobile, Alabama. I had researched that town because it was where my two Mets idols, Tommie Agee and Cleon Jones, grew up.

The AAA, where the Heat play, is out of ancient Rome. The lunchpail Irvings, as I call the middle class fans, aren't even allowed in the lower bowl. And the arena is built in such a way that the lower bowl and skyboxes are close to the action, while the upper seats truly require binoculars.

I sat in the upper deck once, with my friend Jim, and I truly felt second class...I guess that colors my feelings.

So, I'll watch the rest of the series. Tomorrow night I may watch the first half at my local bar, Trulucks. Ian, one of the barkeeps, is a rabid Dallas fan (he grew up there) so it might be fun to gig him as his star player Nowitsky whines about every call.

But I need my Canes back. I need them to win, and strut, and win a 6th championship.

Then I'll shout, lose my voice, and have the whole affair in my heart.