Requiem for an NBA Season

Before I start, I want to put everything in a little perspective …

The universe is something like 15 to 20 billion years old (that’s nine zeroes). The planet earth is about 4 billion years old. The apes that eventually became humans appeared over 2 million years ago (the dinosaurs died out over 60 million years before that), and “thinking man” is less than 50,000 years old.

One day in high school this hit me like a ton of bricks. Rather than become a depressed Cadmus existentialist, I scorned Sisyphus and decided those two had missed the point. On a very cosmic level, we will never succeed, but in transcendent moments, we do have some high points.

Watching Steve Nash during the post-game for Game 6, I wondered, “How many times do you have to lose before you succeed?” I look around at myself and, while congratulating myself on how far I’ve come, I consider all that I haven’t accomplished and all that I won’t accomplish.

The human spirit strives for perfection, but humans never attain it. Sometimes, we get glimpses of perfection and success, but these are fleeting moments. For some reason, though, we keep going back for more.

You can be nihilistic about it, only focusing on the failure to get that rock up the hill, or we can embrace the ride. If you’re moving through life with blinders on, you’ll certainly miss quite a bit. I encourage you (and me) to ditch the atheistic existentialist view and embrace the transcendental view.

Fitting, too, that this occurred over the Feast of the Ascension. That time between Easter and Pentecost when the Apostles didn’t know what to do. Huddled and hiding in an apartment. Waiting, wondering and scared. Thinking to themselves, “What the hell are we going to do now?” Remember when you got married, changed jobs or had a child? What the hell? Right?

I can hear D’Antoni saying, “Look, this is fun. We’re trying our best and enjoying the ride.” He’s not the best tactical coach ever, but I appreciate him for this strategic attitude. Too bad basketball’s not more like football where the head coach isn’t much more than a glorified cheerleader – a strategist – and the assistants do all of the nuts-and-bolts work for the team.

Or, as Homer Simpson would say, “Feel that pounding in your chest and that tingling in your left arm?”

How can you do anything but smile? This is fun. This is exciting. This is what life is about.

Pentecost for the disciples of the Suns is coming on Tuesday. If the Suns are truly cursed, then Atlanta – against the odds – gets the number 3 pick. If not, we’ll get some divine intervention. If it goes well, maybe the pre-game introductions should have a flame over Steve Nash's head instead of the flames coming from his fingers.

Either way, though, we’ll be back for the ride. We had some good times this year. Barbosa’s killer 3 in Chicago. The OT battles with New Jersey and Dallas. Game 5 in Phoenix was the most fun sporting event I’ve ever attended.

Damn, we had a good season. Let’s go back for more.