You’re welcome, Cleveland.
I realized that it was my doing, putting my chair in just the right spot, mixed with my mojo of onion rings and seltzer with tart cherry juice on ice that made the difference tonight and brought a professional sports championship to Cleveland for the first time since the 1964 Browns.
But seriously, special victories like this take incredible fortune and almost otherworldly timing – being in just the right place, at just the right time, with legs crossing and uncrossing in synch with the fabric of space-time nail chewing, while scolding the Cavaliers‘ cavalier ball handling and shooting that kept things far too close for comfort, all of which I managed to pull off flawlessly.
I haven’t watched a professional basketball game in maybe 25 years. But when I came home to catch up on Game of Thrones and realized it was halftime in Game 7 and you were down by 7 points, the numerology said it all: “You owe it to Cleveland. So do not touch that dial. Sit your rump down, eat those onion rings, and sip that not too tart cherry goodness and CONCENTRATE!”
And I came through, for you Cleveland.
When it was 89 – 89 for far too gosh darn long as shot after shot went awry followed by no offensive rebounds, I said, “That is ENOUGH!” and out came the reserve onion rings, as I straightened every seam, turned my head and coughed, and we prevailed. You and I, Cleveland.
We, at long last, prevailed.