I flew from Albany, New York (my new home) to Phoenix, Arizona (close to my old home) today, with a layover in Cleveland.* Along the way, I was pleasantly surprised by the volume of discussion about the NBA I encountered. When my 6 AM departure from Albany was delayed for 3 hours due to our captain being switched to another plane, I used my 8-dollar voucher – apparently, the price of my pain and suffering – to grab a whiskey breakfast at the just-opened airport bar. I wasn’t the only person who’d thought to take refuge amongst the early morning sports chatter and bartender banter, but I was the only one who chose liquor over food.
*Where I honored Baron Davis by devouring a bacon cheeseburger – although it was pointed out to me that eating just one didn’t really do him justice.
An elderly couple, who seemed to judge me the least out of the half-dozen people seated at the countertop, began to discuss the Knicks-Cavs games from the night before, wondering aloud whether Carmelo was an efficient shooter and musing about how much they missed the Rooster. I wanted to join in on their conversation and point out how significantly Anthony’s rebound rate was improved so far this season and engage them in discussion over this trend was sustainable, but I’m afraid they shot me a withering glance when I made eye contact. Then again, that might just be the whiskey talking.
While in Cleveland, I overheard two cashiers at the newstand – no, I wasn’t looking for reading material, I was there to laugh at multiple dying media – discussing the victory over the Knicks. They had a renewed sense of enthusiasm, brimming with confidence about their victories over New York and the Lakers. When I told them that I was a Suns fan, they brought up Phoenix’ recent loss to the Kings. My witty rebuttal…didn’t exist.
One of the flight attendants of the Phoenix-based crew commanding my flight from Cleveland back to the great state of Arizona had a Suns pin on her purse, so I asked her what she thought of the team’s playoff chances. She confessed that with her busy work schedule, she wasn’t able to see many games, but that she thought Vince Carter got a bum rap and that she felt bad for him when she heard that he still got boos in Toronto. When I told her that I often described Mr. Carter as a zombie, I’m fairly certain I got what I deserved in not receiving a single beverage on the 5-hour flight.
It’s just too bad that the formation of superteams is dampening everyone’s enthusiasm, isn’t it? #tsf*
*#tsf is a twitter hashtag that stands for “team sarcasm font.” It expresses our desire for a font to readily convey sarcasm, which can be hard to properly interpret through text. Comic Sans, anyone? Speaking of twitter, follow me (@snghoops), drop me a line (firstname.lastname@example.org), or like us on Facebook!