Quote of the Day, Where Magic Happens edition
When I was a teenager, my hometown of Orlando, Florida finally got its first professional sports team. The Orlando Magic's first season was 1989, and like virtually all new teams they sucked for awhile. But the town embraced them, and after a couple years they sucked so bad that they managed to draft the superstar-in-waiting Shaquille O'Neal with the No. 1 pick. He instantly improved the team, but they just barely missed the playoffs in his rookie season. The Magic had just one little white ball in that year's draft lottery, but by a miracle that one little ball managed to find its way home for the No. 1 pick 2 years in a row. The Magic drafted Chris Webber but traded for Anfernee Hardaway, and suddenly we had two young superstars and seemed headed for greatness.
Just two years later, the Magic became the second-youngest new team ever to make the NBA Finals, led by Shaq, Penny, and Chicago Bulls veteran Horace Grant. We even beat those Bulls, with a recently-returned Michael Jordan, to get there. I worked at Disney World that summer, and the water tower usually topped with Mickey Mouse ears was covered with Grant's trademark blue goggles as a sign of Orlando's basketball fever. On the game nights that I worked in Mickey's Character Shop, we had a telephone tree set up throughout the store to pass regular score updates to all employees while the game was on. We had these two amazing stars, and all the hope in the world.
Then we played the Houston Rockets in the Finals and got swept. It was awful, and it was followed by a desert of bad and disappointing seasons. Shaq left for L.A., Penny left for Phoenix, we traded for Grant Hill and he promptly became perma-injured, we had some great players who underachieved, and we never seemed to get past the first round even when we made it to the playoffs at all. Orlando Magic fans grew weary and jaded, forgetting all that hope and optimism of the early 1990's.
That's why this year has been so special for those of us who were around back then and who remember the early days, and then stuck around through the drought that followed them. I was so thrilled to see my Magic beat the defending world champion Celtics, even though previously the Celtics were my team when I lived in Boston. I was ecstatic that they managed to dismantle the team with the best record in basketball, the Cavaliers, in dominating fashion. I had high hopes for this team, but I also had fear. I knew the heartbreak of the NBA Finals had left a deep and painful memory, and I was afraid it would return.
The first game was awful, and I stopped watching midway through the second half. The second game was an absolute travesty, one that even Phil Jackson said we should have won because of an uncalled goaltend at the very end. Instead we lost in overtime, and I walked out of the bar where I watched it on Sunday night completely demoralized. The heartbreak of 1995 was looming dangerously close again. I resolved not to watch the rest of the series, to preserve myself so that I would not be hurt that way again. Perhaps my years living in as a Red Sox fan taught me to do this, but it was almost instinctive. I would not watch even a second of Game 3.
Last night, the Magic beat the Lakers on a dazzling display of shooting. I didn't see any of it, and only read about it online this morning. My team is still behind, the odds are still decidedly against them, but they finally knocked that monkey off their backs and won their first ever NBA Finals game. As I struggled with what to say about this, I found this quote from an Orlando Sentinel sportswriter that sums it up better than I ever could:
Fine. The Orlando Magic won a game. In the Finals. I am proud. Trust me, that win, even if the vast majority of the folks celebrating on Orange Ave. do not realize it, means something. For the come-lately fans, it is one more reason to get drunk on Thursday. For those of us who have been living and dying with this team for decades, from losing Shaq, T-Mac and Grant Hill's feet, it means far more than that. It is a middle finger to the pezzonovantes in the national media who never gave this team a chance. We paid attention when they could not be bothered to flip their remotes to TNT. Whatever happens from here on forward, this Magic team, more than any other, has shown grit, heart and resiliency. Anfernee Hardaway and Shaq possessed gifts Dwight and Rashard will never know. But this current regime has shown something those superior athletes never even hinted at. That is, accountability in the face of superior adversity. Calm in the fist of a humiliating tsunami, something Shaq and Penny couldn't stomach even as an entire franchise existed only to fill their most menial needs.
Michael White, from "The Lakers are probably better, but I've never been prouder of a Magic team."
He's right. They probably won't win, they look outgunned by the Lakers. But I am so proud of my hometown team for not falling apart even after they could have easily rolled over and gotten swept. I'm so proud of them for showing the same grit and determination that got them this far. A better Magic team wilted in the face of adversity in 1995 and made all of us Magic fans feel a bit foolish and ashamed that we had believed our young team could win it all. Thanks to last night, that won't happen this year regardless of whether we win or lose. We can be proud to have believed in these guys.
(But because I'm more than a little superstitious, I won't watch the rest of the series because I'm convinced the Magic play better when I'm not watching. Yes, I am crazy.)
