In honor of today's NBA Draft Lottery, I'm reprinting the column I wrote after the Portland Trail Blazers won the lottery last year, after overcoming an improbable 5.3% chance of getting the number 1 pick. Today, the odds are a bit more daunting, as the Blazers, with their 41-41 overall record, have a .6% chance of landing the number 1 pick.But go back to that day a year ago, and remember that feeling when the Blazers got the top selection. Remember the optimism, the excitement, and the hope that was felt that day - the day the fortunes of a franchise changed. Hold on to that feeling today, and continue to hold on to it during the summer, and into next season. Those feelings are still here, the product of fate continuing to smile on the Blazers.
You never know, with a little luck, we may get to experience those same feelings again today. Just like last year, I'll have my Buck Williams jersey on.
__________
5.3%
I woke up this morning and I was still smiling. Could this actually be true?
Immediately I ran to the front porch, grabbed the newspaper, and had my wish confirmed: “Blazers get number 1 pick.”
What were the odds of that? By now, every Blazer fan has memorized that fateful, wonderful number: 5.3%.
Let me take you back: Before Tuesday’s NBA Draft Lottery, “5.3%” was nothing more that an insignificant percentage. The equivalent of finding a straw of hay in a stack of needles, and equally as painful to think about.
Before Tuesday, the Portland Trail Blazers were given a 5.3% chance of winning the first pick in the NBA Draft Lottery. Yet, what seemed like an insignificant number would eventually bind the fates of five individuals, who had all grown up around the basketball team.
The cast of characters read as follows: there was me, the eternal Blazer optimist. So desperate for a little luck at the lottery that I wore my Buck Williams jersey while watching it on TV (my reasoning: Buck was the catalyst for Blazer success in the 1990s, so the jersey will be the catalyst for success at the lottery). There was my girlfriend, Amanda, the Portland transplant who contracted Blazer fever from me. There was my brother Justin, for so many years my foil as a basketball fan. His Lakers won, my Blazers lost. Even when the LA dynasty was blown up, he still did not care for the Blazers, yet I could see some chinks in the armor this season. There was my long-time friend Alex, who had always thought of the Blazers as a joke. He wanted them to win just as much as I did, but years of futility had jaded him towards the red-and-black. And finally there was my friend Anthony, the last of my fellow Blazer die-hards, who would always talk Blazers with me no matter how far apart life had taken us.
Our fates were sealed with the bounce of those ping-ping balls.
As the drawing started, I found myself glued to my seat and crossing my fingers. When the sixth selection came up, I started shaking my head and saying “we don’t want sixth, we don’t want sixth,” over and over, until mercifully the card was revealed and the Blazer logo was not on it.
My heart leapt for joy. Sensing that something good was happening, I remained fixated on the screen, repeating my mantra incessantly. Soon, Amanda was sitting next to me, crossing her fingers and doing the same thing.
Fifth…fourth… The Blazers still hadn’t been chosen! Third pick…Atlanta!!! We were guaranteed one of the top-two picks.
Amanda was grabbing my arm and shaking with anticipation. I was sweating bullets; never in my life had I wanted to see Seattle’s logo more than that moment.
I made a quick prayer and then waited to see what my fate would be.
“The second pick goes to…the Seatt—”
That was all I needed to hear.
Now, let me tell you what five-point-three percent really means.
5.3% is me leaping into the air, screaming at the top of my lungs, my brain
going a mile a minute thinking about success, championships, and Rip City; the smile on my face beaming to the world about the Blazers finally about to be on top again.
5.3% is Amanda doing the same thing; her love for the Blazers truly genuine at that moment. There are certain moments where you finally realize just how much a team means to someone, and to see Amanda laughing, smiling, leaping into the air with her Travis Outlaw jersey, you knew she loved the Blazers.
5.3% is me sending an immediate text message to all my friends that read “RIP CITY!!!”
5.3% is Alex calling me on the phone a few seconds later, just as crazy and hysterical as I was. Suddenly, the Blazers mattered to him again. “I was jumping up and down; I was just freaking out,” he said to me through gasps of air. “Everyone else thought I was crazy, but I knew you would be doing the exact same thing as me right now.”
5.3% is Justin calling me moments later, his first words being “Can you say Greg Oden?” We found ourselves giddy as a couple of little kids again, talking about how great Oden will be, how we can trade Zach Randolph, and best of all, how big of a dynasty we will have in the future with Oden, LaMarcus Aldridge, and Brandon Roy leading the Blazers. But the words Justin said that will forever stick with me was “The Blazers just gained another fan.”
5.3% is Anthony and the vindication he can finally feel. For years he supported the Blazers no matter what, the only other die-hard fan I know. We used to always say that the two of us would be the announcers when the Blazers won it all, but the prospect of a championship always seemed like a far-off dream. Now, he and I have already started making plans to get NBA finals tickets for 2008.
To the five of us, 5.3% will forever tie us together, as we will head towards the future of the Blazers with excitement, optimism, and, for the first time in a long time, hope.
——————————
Lately I’ve found myself totally engrossed in the subject of the Trail Blazer championship team from 1977. Not just the team, mind you, the aura about it. The way that they brought the city together like no other team has before or since. Portland lived and breathed its team during that magical championship run. Blazermania was red hot ‘n’ rollin, and Rip City was in full effect.
As I stared for long hours at the pictures of the fans storming the court after game 6 on June 5, 1977, I kept wishing that I could have been there. As I read tales of how the entire, and I mean, THE ENTIRE CITY went absolutely bonkers after the Blazers won it all, dancing in the streets, block parties at Geneva’s, pandemonium in Portland, and as I gazed at the photos of the 250,000 Blazermaniacs who engulfed downtown Portland for the championship parade, hanging from street signs, out of windows, turning Broadway street into a literal sea of people,; after hearing about all of this, it only made me wish even more that I could be a part of that. Just once. I want that pride for the team to strike Portlanders again, and bring us together in a way we haven’t felt since 1977.
At the draft lottery on Tuesday, the Blazers took yet another large step towards making that happen.
I know that Rip City is back, because as that card was revealed and the Blazers won the top pick, five of us were suddenly united by a feeling deep inside that can only be described as Blazermania.
You tell me what the odds of that were.
