My Personal Greatest Blazer Moment

On Sunday, April 29th, 2001, just after watching Kobe Bryant and Shaquille O’Neal’s Lakers sweep the Portland Trail Blazers, on their way to their second of three championships in as many years, I went on a walk and reflected on the past year. Just a year before, my favorite team was one quarter away from the going to the NBA Finals and onto a probable NBA championship. I had to find out went wrong.

I contemplated the past season’s transactions. Was it the signing of Will Perdue that caused the downfall of the Blazers? What about the acquisition of Shawn Kemp, Dale Davis, or the loss of Brian Grant and Jermaine O’Neal? Should I blame Rod Strickland, who was signed in April? How could a team coached to 50 wins by Mike Dunleavy get swept in the playoff? I walked for miles, almost in a daze until I realized that it was not the coach’s fault, the player’s fault, or even the General Manager Bob Whitsitt’s fault. The real reason the Blazers imploded into the Jail Blazers, was me.

Some Background

On Sunday, June 4th, 2000, just after watching Kobe Bryant and Shaquille O’Neal’s Lakers defeat the Portland Trail Blazers, on their way to their first of three championships in as many years, I went on a walk and reflected on the past year. I was very upset over the Blazers collapse in the forth quarter. The defining play is the 48th greatest play in Playoff history. Who can forget Kobe making Scottie Pippen look like a department store door, as his gently slid out of Kobe’s way to an ally-oop dunk by Shaq? In case you forgot, here is the video.  The play was so epic, that it was also made into an NBA "Where Amazing Happens" commercial.

While on my walk, I realized the players and coaches did everything they could. If I were going to blame anyone for the loss, I would have to blame the referees. Since there were no hard feelings with the team, I decided to send a thank you card to all the players. I wanted to thank them for an exciting season and wish them good luck the next year. I thought a card might lift their spirits and would rally them for the next season. I never sent the cards.

After the sweep in 2001, and on my walk, it hit me. I stopped dead in my tracks and dropped to my knees and began to weep. I realized that I cause the collapse. My failure to send thank you cards to all the players, was the one thing that could have unified the team and made them greater. Instead, the media and fans piled on, and the GM panicked.

After about an hour of crying, rocking back and forth, and holding myself, I got up and brushed myself off. I surveyed my surroundings and realized I was on the west side of town. I was living in Eugene at the time and I was on one of the many bike paths. I gathered myself and found the closest bar on West 11th.

The bar was a crappy country bar and I ordered a beer and a shot of Wild Turkey. The bartender said I looked troubled and I replied, "Leave the bottle." After I finished the bottle, the bartender cut me off and told me he was calling me a cab. I paid my tab, and told him, "You don’t know how I feel. I let them all down." Then I stumbled out into the street.

I stopped in a Dairy Mart and bought a 64 oz Old English 800. The guy behind the counter did not bother or care that I was already inebriated. I walked out of the store and back down the bike path to my home. Along the way I stopped under a tree and started drinking.

About halfway through my 64 oz, three men came upon me. One was wearing a leather jacket and the other two were wearing camouflage jackets. They were all three homeless. One was named Tommyknocker, another The Apache Kid, and the third was Clarence. I shared my 64 oz with them and gave Clarence some money to go get some more beer. The Apache Kid shared a marijuana cigarette with me that I later found out was laced with PCP. We drank late into the morning and at some point I passed out.

The next morning, I awoke to the sound of a woman screaming. I looked around and had no idea where I was. I was on a grassy bank of a little creek, completely naked, and a nutria rat was licking something that looked like peanut butter off my genitals. I had no idea what was going on, only that the woman was screaming because of me and I was probably in the Amazon Canal. I grabbed an empty 24 pack of Icehouse beer, ripped it in half to cover myself, and started running. It did not take me long to realize I was close to my friend's house so I ran straight there.

My friend let me take a shower and loaned me some clothes. We walked back to where I woke up and found my wallet with my ID in it, but my credit cards and cash were gone. There was also no sign of my clothes or of my homeless friends. A few weeks later, I drove past Clarence wearing my pants and he was with Tommyknocker who was wearing my shoes. I did not bother to stop because I really did not want my clothes after homeless guys wore them.

After canceling all my credit cards, I went on another walk and tried to think of how I could make amends to the Blazers for causing their collapse. I decided on Monday, April 30th, 2001 that from that day forward I would follow the Blazer faithfully forever. I told myself that they could sign a rapist, get caught doing drugs, punch a teammate, dog fight, or carry a gun onto a plane and I would still love them. Upon hindsight, I realized I might have been a little two specific, because all of those things ended up happening. I am thankful that I did not list murder as well.

So, my personal greatest Blazers moment was the day after the Blazers were swept from the playoffs by the Los Angeles Lakers. It was the day I realized, nay, I vowed, to love the Blazers unconditionally for the rest of my life. It is a decision I have never regretted.