FanPost

Contest Entry – Afterglow of Song

I’m posting because I figure there are a lot of fans like me who don’t necessarily have a unique or special story, but yet still find the Blazers to be a special part of our lives. My greatest Blazer moment is always the next game, and the fact that tomorrow, there will be another. For those of us who love the game, love to discuss it, persuade others, and be persuaded. Here’s my lighthearted (but also passionate) send up to how we turn over every stone in our patriotism. Sometimes we can’t get enough, no matter what. Sometimes we talk to ad nauseum.

But in the process, we made a few friends along the way – enjoy.

There is no doubt I am completely prejudiced in making this judgment but will make it anyway. The only basketball theme song I’ve ever heard is the Blazers Theme song, or at least it’s the only one I remember. And therein lays my absolute indisputable competency to judge the matter.

 

So let me get straight to the point. I’ll not be like mortimer who circles around and around and you think he is going to land, but no, it was just another taunting flyby. You know the point is coming, but sure enough it doesn’t come, he just keeps hypnotizing you with that dashing debonair way he has about him. Throwing up a grade school picture every now and then to remind you how sweet he is, while he stealthily lines up to come in for the kill. Selling you his silky smooth mantra niftier than a snake oil salesman at the top of his game promising to deliver the goods for all your cures, and I do admit, mort actually does deliver if you’re still around to receive the shipment. Quite a few posters could have been singled out so this is no hate on mort. Besides, his first couple of lines is always of the highest quality and some day I plan to read beyond those first few lines to make sure he maintains an elevated level of excellence in Blazersedge journalism.

 

No, I’ll not dilly-dally around like some do. Making silly arguments about who shot who shot who first, in the duel of the century, or who really fouled who with one second left on the game clock in a tie game. In situations like that, and, as in this situation, you want someone to get straight to the point.  You want someone who will bypass the hyperbole, forgo the multifaceted hues of color commentary, and get down to the brass tacks, not cluttering the moment with extraneous thoughts and details that cloud the pertinent monumental accomplishments of the very moment, the very second, succinctly stating the current matter with the clarity of a knelling Sunday morning church bell.  So away with the boring tedious observations of how it happened, just tell me who won – that's what I say.

 

So without blithering and blathering about this and that, making much ado about nothing, talking frivolously to infinity about the finer points of today’s topic with the verbosity of an English professor who rambles on and on like a Led Zeppelin lyric, incessantly, endlessly, forever and ever with no sign of stopping until the entire class is deliriously stupefied by a discourse that could have been summarized in a simple unassuming sentence.

Let me get straight to it…and find a way around all the mumbo jumbo that fills up the posts of others, as if they had received some oracle from the Delphi prophetess herself. Because I really do deplore all the metaphors and analogies that are used, when in most cases the far better course is to set the objective in order, with a "straight forward matter of fact" kind of way. I mean, this is a basketball site, and no one needs to twist our arms to be here. Do posters really need to sell themselves, here of all places? When you’re giving away a free bottle of 100-dollar scotch to a wino, does he need a sales pitch? Does the neighborhood ice-cream man fret over not spending thousands of dollars on advertising in the middle of August?

So I’ll just lay it out – plain and simple – matter of fact.
But first let me say… The way some people carry on is enough to make you think a few of these posters heeded some bad advice and took a few of those "extendo word power pills" right before they posted, hoping that their posts are 25% bigger and 100% more satisfying. Trust me, those pills don’t work. And I should know, I tried one before I wrote this and look what happened Zilch, nada, nothing, I’ve got writers block like never before. I feel like the 10 year old kid who goes to the beach for the first time and wakes up right in the middle of an all girls high school senior tanning party. I’d like to say something romantically eloquent. I’ve fantasized about how cool I would be if these bathing beauties huddled around me and started to sing and dance like a scene out of Moulin Rouge, but the words don’t follow, the moment is just too enormous for me. I’m staggered into silence. 

So without all the fluff you might normally be accustom to in a post like this, I’ll get to the point fast and sweet.

 

Faster than tih can jump into a phone booth and slip into a shinny gold dog-poop avatar

Faster than blazerfan1 can don high heels and lipstick in hopes of meeting Nic

Faster than prez can dump a hot chick over his mountain bike handlebars
Faster than AK1984 can throw "the cold water of objectivity" into the face of homerism

Faster than brp can say wasssssap buttercups!??!?!

 

Is the Blazers Theme Song the coolest ever, or what?

 

Yes, that’s right; the Blazers theme song is my greatest Blazer moment ever.

Why. Because it’s a call to arms, the battle cry for the next game. And the next game will always and forever be the foremost important aspect of being a blazer fan. Because of it and our dreams, we gather here, make friends (some  long winded, some not), and reminisce of players and teams of former eras gone by. We come to talk about last night’s game. To live and relive, tell and retell, to hear it from a hundred different viewpoints until we’ve soaked up every vestige and dined on every morsel.

 

If by some strange twist of fate basketball ceased to exist tomorrow, none of us would remain here any longer to chew the Blazer fat. We might hang around for a few sad goodbyes, but basketball would eventually be a subject that was only brought up as a passing memory. And then after this generation is gone, it would be nothing more than a history lesson. Any Blazer moment would be greatly diminished without the next game. That next game is the thread that keeps all hopes, memories, and all things Blazers vividly alive.

 

I dread to think of an existence where I no longer throw my hands high into the air, fist pumping and yelling
"GO BLAZERS." It’s just too much to bare, to think of life without ever again using the arm of my sofa as a launching pad for a highflying pro wrestling move where I leap over the coffee table landing on my back with my feet and hands in the air, kicking and screaming like a baby, shouting at the referee "Did you even see that play."

 

And don’t tell me that basketball is just a game. That phrase might be acceptable for a couple scenarios, but contracts aren’t signed for millions if it were "just a game." That’s my sweat and blood represented out there on the floor. And not just mine but it’s all of ours, from the guy who pushes the broom to the well-dressed man in the corner office to all who call ourselves Blazer fans.

When that song is played, I know that for the next 2 hours my hopes and dreams of being part of an empire that will one day rule the entire world is on display. It may not be Alexander the Great in the pride of Macedonia or the mighty Rome of old, but the same spirit lives on. And if you’re from out of town and come to the game on any given night, be forewarned if you don’t bleed black and red. Those are my gladiators in the arena, this is the Rose Garden, and this is Our House – We Will Rock You.

 

So yes, tell me how the game played out again and again. Enlarge upon it until it casts a shadow over my entire being. Don’t just tell me the score, tell me how we got there. Linger at the great plays, infuse it with anecdotes, fill it will sparkle and life, make it dazzle, let it dance. Bend time and make it stand still. Swoon me with a Blazer love song and romance me with that Roy rainbow shot which took flight from way beyond the arc and sailed so high that before it came back down to earth sealing the victory, it kissed the rafters and said "You're mine baby."

 

Let me bask in the shinning glow of yesterday’s game, and dream about tomorrow’s glory. Because I’m not going anywhere, I’m just sitting here waiting for the band to warm up, and the song to play.
Play it for me one more time.

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