The first time the Spurs won a championship, in 1999, was our first year in this house. I think I wore a Spurs shirt every day that summer. I’d been a Spurs fan for a number of years, since David Robinson came to town and I met Cindi, who is a rabid Spurs fan. I remember we watched every play-off game, and, well, my poor grandmother. She stayed with us that summer and we made her watch the games with us (not that she could sleep with all the yelling!) We stopped at roadside stands for MORE Spurs shirts and a flag for the car. I took Josh, who was 7 at the time, on the bus downtown to the river parade (which I still think is a wicked cool way to celebrate.) It was a blast, even though I was scared to go alone! (Fred was working the parade for the news.)
I don’t remember when I started drifting away from the Spurs, or from basketball. I know I started getting more serious about my writing in 2000, and watching an average of 3 games a week was a pretty big time commitment. By the time this year rolled around, all I cared about was that Spurs in the playoffs meant we could wear jeans with Spurs shirts on game day. And it seemed whenever I tuned into a game, the tides would change, so I stopped watching so I wouldn’t jinx them.
But I watched the second half of the last two games and was blown away by the determination of the Spurs. When they won the championship last night on the home court, I loved watching their joy. I loved seeing David Robinson and Avery Johnson celebrate with them. I loved the humility of Kawhi Leonard when he won the MVP trophy. It just gave me a sense of pride that these guys represent my hometown.