The gift of the Blazers

I spent Tuesday, Oct. 7 trying to figure out something meaningful to do for my birthday. Turning 22 isn’t exactly a huge milestone, but I wanted to find something significant that made this birthday stand out, something to make it more than just another day.

With no presents, lots of homework, and no time for a party, it seemed like this birthday would pass by with nothing to show for it.

Then the Portland Trail Blazers came back.

You see, they’d been gone for quite some time now. After those ill-fated attempts at a championship in 1999 and 2000, the team seemed to disappear for a while. There were reports that a gang of hooligans calling themselves the Jail Blazers had been masquerading in their place, but I dismissed these claims. They weren’t the Blazers. The Blazers had been missing since 2000.
Suddenly, in the last year and a half, there were sightings. Draft party madness. Brandon Roy carving up defense. A mastermind named Pritchard behind the helm. A 13 game winning streak. They were all glimpses, signs that the Blazers could be returning after all these years.

And then, to top it all off, the Blazers’ first 2008 preseason game was Oct. 7. My Birthday.

I didn’t want to succumb to these feelings of euphoria too quickly. I had been fooled by the Blazers before during the past eight years, so I didn’t want to put too much stock in a preseason game.

I was afraid that if I let myself believe they were back, that they would vanish like a mirage.

But it looked like fate was working on my side. This game had the long-awaited debut of Greg Oden. It had a burgeoning young Blazer team that had shocked the league with 41 wins last year. Rudy Fernandez was playing his first game in the United States. Draft day steal Jarryd Bayless was bringing his tenacity to the Rose Garden.

And to it all off, I could watch it on my birthday.

After all these years of waiting for my Blazers to come back, could this game finally convince me that they had finally returned? Could it ever live up to my expectations? Was fate destined to bring joy to this Blazer fan on his birthday?

You bet your ass.

For 3 hours, I was as estatic, as pumped up, as giddy as I have ever been as a Blazer fan. For 3 hours I was a kid again, leaping out of my seat, screaming, fist-pumping, and dancing around my apartment. Judging from my shouts, other people in my building must have thought that someone was dying.

Well someone did die: the cynical, jaded Blazer fan I once was. In his place was the full-fledged Blazermaniac that had been missing since 2000, since middle-school Blazer rallies, since English teachers ending classes with “go blazers,” since headbands and mighty mice and Lithuanian centers.

“ODEN!!!”

“OOOOHHH RUUUUUUUUUUDY!!!”

“DID YOU SEE THAT?!?!?”

“OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD! HAHAHAHA!!!!”

“I LOVE THE BLAZERS!!!”

He was back. So were my Trail Blazers.

Yes, it was a preseason game. Yes, it was against the Kings.

No, I don’t care. The Blazers gave me one of the best presents I could have received on my birthday.

People may say that these preseason games don’t count for anything. Well, this preseason game brought back all those feelings of happiness I used to feel for the Blazers; it brought back my team. After all this time, the gift of the Blazers was finally returned to me, on my birthday, no less. And as a result, I could let myself believe again.

Don’t tell me that this doesn’t count for something.

5.3% - revisited

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.

SportsCamp - April 30

- If you've ever doubted the wonderful nature of sports or the beauty of sportsmanship, you need to read this. It doesn't matter that it's small college softball. To me, this is what makes sports so special - the way it affects people on an entirely different level. Just read it, it's got my vote for sports story of the year so far, and it'll be a hard one to top.



- For Zag fans looking forward to next season, Gonzaga Bulletin reporter Zach Stratton has exclusive stuff on next year's recruits.



- As well, Tony Schick has an inside-look at next year's women's team.



- Travis Lucian wrote an excellent piece on Bulldogs second baseman Evan Wells.

Few's plan hits nine-year snag

What does the future hold for the Bulldogs?

The question is asked every year, after seasons good or bad, successful or tumultuous, memorable or forgettable. After a college basketball season, the question ultimately arises: What's next?

For too many years the Bulldogs have been forced to ask that question. Well, now it's time to stop asking and start finding some answers.

Mark Few, specifically, needs to find out whether he can answer that question and deliver results for a program that has grown stagnant. Actually, scratch that - stagnant implies that it's been in the same place, and the fact is, this team has actually taken a step back from where it was nine years ago.

In 1999, head coach Dan Monson guided the Zags to the Elite Eight. In the nine years since then under Few, they haven't been back.

Talk all you want about the Bulldogs' recruiting classes, national exposure or winning percentage - the reality is that while Few has built the program to prominence, it has since reached a plateau.

Every off-season the talk is about the future, and yet every year these Bulldog teams succumb to the same failures that have plagued them since 1999. There was the tearful choke job against UCLA in 2006, the blowout by Indiana in 2007, the lack of heart shown in losing the WCC crown this past March, and the blowing of an 11-point lead against Davidson in the 2008 NCAA Tournament. Nevada, Texas Tech, the list goes on.

How long can we accept these kinds of disappointments?

In these past nine years, Few still hasn't shown that he can right the ship, as each new method he employs falls on its face. Few loosened the reins for Adam Morrison, which resulted in a lack of options when he was ineffective. He slowed down the pace for Derek Raivio, which resulted in over-dribbling on every possession. Just this past year, he used every trick in the book. He essentially cut players (Pierre-Marie Altidor Cespedes), benched others (Larry Gurganious, Micah Downs), and employed several different lineups with mixed results. The end result: another loss in a big game, another first-round exit, and another offseason of waiting and hoping.

At some point, you'd want to start seeing some improvement.

For too long we've allowed Monson's success in 1999 to carry over into the Mark Few regime, masking Few's inadequacies as head coach. In the nine years since taking over the Bulldogs, Few's teams have not only failed to return to the Elite Eight, they've failed to keep their spot as the best team in the conference.

If people are content with run-of-the-mill scheduling, high regular season winning percentages and zero progress, then the current incarnation of Mark Few is for you. But in truth, improvement and achievement probably hold more importance, and after nine years, it's time to deliver these things.

A month ago, while on Jim Rome's television show, Few stated that he didn't need a national title to feel complete as a coach. While this sentiment is noble as a human being, it ultimately makes him fail as a head coach. To achieve success, a coach needs to seek and demand the best from both his team and himself. You don't need to win a championship to be a success, but you'll never be a success if you don't work for it every day.

Nine years after getting the job, Few needs to decide if he is ready to turn the corner with this program. The future depends on his ability to step up and make changes for the better.

What does the future hold for the Bulldogs? For Mark Few, the answer is clear: Shape up, or ship out.

With his decision, Pargo grows up

No amount of begging, pleading or reasoning can ever sway the decisions of a man who has made up his mind. That's been exactly the case with Jeremy Pargo during these past few days.

Through his actions, decisions and attitudes surrounding his decision to enter the NBA Draft, Pargo suddenly grew up before our eyes, from a talkative, headstrong kid to a full-grown man.

Gonzaga should be proud of him, and proud of who he has turned into during his three years here.

Pargo made no hoopla surrounding his decision to test the NBA Draft waters. He didn't stage an elaborate press conference or attempt to hype up this monumental decision. Instead, we saw the matured Jeremy Pargo, who quietly made his decision to friends, politely answered the media's inquiries about the rumor and quickly went to work to handle his business.

In his decision to professionally play a kid's game, he acted like a man.

A kid is rarely equipped with the maturity to handle a decision like this. A kid would believe every yes-man and every hanger-on who baited him with false promises and delusions of success. A kid would buy into his own hype, overestimate his skills and ultimately fail in his quest to go pro.

But a grown man, one who has developed a level head and maturity, wouldn't. Pargo is showcasing those qualities right now, during one of the most important periods of his life. He didn't have to think this over, he didn't have to weigh his options while many others were voicing their own opinions, but it is the fact that he did that is important.

After a season in which he won WCC Player of the Year, Pargo could have easily decided to turn pro and never look back. But a mature person knows his abilities better than anyone else, and Pargo is using his knowledge to help himself even more. By not hiring an agent, he can still opt to withdraw his name from the draft if he senses that his draft position would be lower than he thought. He's not putting all his chips on the table unless he's dealt a good hand. Now, if he realizes that he may need another year to develop, he can return to Gonzaga for his senior season.

Sure, he could come back, but I suspect Gonzaga would be even more proud for him to go pro and succeed. A return by Pargo to the Bulldogs would no doubt help the basketball team, but with the level-headedness that Pargo has demonstrated, it is evident that this is also a man who is ready to succeed in the real world. Gonzaga would be proud to cheer him on as he carries himself to the next level.

His ability to make it in the NBA game remains to be seen, but it looks like he has the attitude it takes to thrive, and sometimes that's just as important as basketball ability. He's not buying into his own hype, he knows his limitations, he knows what's at stake, and through it all he is showing a level of maturity far beyond that of a normal 21-year-old.

You have to root for a guy like that.

The Jeremy Pargo we've seen on the court is one of youthful enthusiasm. He was the kid who was always talking, playing, having fun. But when the time came for him to make decisions regarding his life as an adult, something happened in him:

Jeremy Pargo manned up.