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Why I'm Not Upset
I consider this season a victory. It's a victory for a group of old guys who found a bond over a decade ago and who, against all odds, pushed through to finish at the top of their games again and again. This season the Spurs have set new franchise records for road wins and neared their all time regular season wins mark, and all this after being thrown away again by the media after a close loss in the Finals last season.
So no, I'm no upset. I'm glad actually, I'm glad I was around for this monumental thing a group of men.. nay... a band of brothers has achieved through ethical good team work and righteous ball movement. Yeah though I walk though the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil..... not one ing evil thing. Why? Because Tim's rod and his staff, they comfort me. They comfort me at a time when all I can think of is the torment of being face down in the proverbial pillow, eyes focused on the red numbers of the alarm clock next to my bed as the big fundamental inches ever closer to victory.... but it's not given to him, not easily.
Well into the 12th minute of struggle I finally give in to it. I submit to the pressure, the ball pressure, the penetration of his point guard up the middle to my awaiting rim. He senses my submission, feels the relaxation of the moment and powers forward, the best to ever do that. On and on it goes into the night, 48 minutes and overtime. Eventually, being given a blow for his efforts, Tim recedes to the bench and with that wide eyed stare just smiles at me like I'm Dwight Howard.
No, I am not upset.
I am victory.
I am Spur fan.
