8 posts tagged “live”
Hey everyone, who are your favorite bands or artists to see live?
1. The National and Menomena @ The Moore Theater:
On Friday night, Em and I got to go see Menomena and The National at The Moore Theater here in Seattle. We had a really great time. I thought I’d missed my best chance at seeing The National since they’d been here fairly recently and I was too busy to free up an evening. I was pleasantly surprised when my friend Luke, who also attended, let me know they were coming back, and that Menomena was opening for them, a fact which is an unnecessary but welcome bonus.
As I’ve said before, I love The National more every time I listen to them, and they certainly didn’t disappoint live. Menomena and The National both put on a great show. It was a lovely Friday evening and a well deserving part of this week's five things.
Sadly, much of what once made the Soul/R&B sound great has perished in the wake of the ridiculous pop trends of the late 70’s and beyond. Even greats like Stevie Wonder and The Temptations lost their minds and went the way of overproduced, heavily synthesized silliness. What was once a proud and powerful force in the world of music has for too long been turned into music that is barely fit to listen to in an elevator.
The vacuum left behind by these musical giants after their fall from grace has at times been filled with talented individuals who were able to capture something of the old magic and combine it with current pop sensibilities. Yet, for every moderately talented group, there has been busloads of “no talent ass-clowns” who get paid to make the same song again and again, taking an insubstantial, but dance-worthy, baseline and covering it with mediocre vocal talent and mindless lyrics about sex and romantic relationships which barely reach a junior high maturity level.
For far too long, we've been without the timeless ballads and soulful lyrics of a young Stevie Wonder. The soulful pleas of David Ruffin and the Temptations were nowhere to be seen. The body-moving, soul-lifting power of James Brown could only be found by tuning into an oldies station.
Fortunately, during my lifetime, a talented group of men and women have finally taken it upon themselves to fill in the sizable gap left by past greats. The men and women I’m referring to are those who make up what is known as the Neo-Soul genre. The most popular manifestations of this genre are Alicia Keys and John Legend, but that is merely the tip of the iceberg.
If you are at all interested in this genre but haven’t gotten into it yet, I highly recommend picking up Raphael Saadiq’s new album, The Way I See It, released last Tuesday on Sony BMG. The title of the CD itself sounds more like a Marvin Gaye album than today's typical R&B fare. CD's today are more likely to be called something imaginative like Sweat or Shake That Ass or some other similarly mind-numbing possibility.
Saadiq’s CD is at times the postmodern incarnation of everything that was good about the sound and songwriting of Stevie Wonder or Smokey Robinson, and he moves and carries himself in a way that emanates the effortless sexuality, charisma and charm of David Ruffin or Marvin Gaye. I listened to the CD four times through... and that was just Thursday afternoon.
Some might feel it rests too much in emulation and fails to move forward into anything new, but personally I'm not looking for perfection, just something that seems worth listening to. I recommend checking out the CD, as the very name of the Neo-Soul movement (as well as the genre it points back to) implies, it’s good for the soul!
You can see a music video from the CD here. It isn't the strongest song on the CD, and the video isn't terribly exciting, but it works.
3. Magic Numbers:
For those who don’t know, magic numbers refer to sports standings, and are the numerical representation of how close a team is to clinching a spot in the playoffs. The best way to explain how the number works is to use an example. A team in first place in a division, the Cubs for instance, have a magic number that gets lower and lower as the team moves closer and closer to clinching their division, something the Cubs did over the weekend. Once the magic number reaches zero, it is mathematically impossible for another team in the division to catch them.
Continuing to use the Cubs as our example, a magic number goes down in two ways: when the Cubs win, and when the team closest to the Cubs in the division, in this case the Brewers, lose. So, for every Cubs win, the magic number goes down by one, and for every Brewers loss, the magic number again goes down by one. The magic number can never go up, so it is always the best representation of how close your team is to winning the division, or clinching the wild card.
The equation to figure out what a magic number is can be figured out pretty easily, it is the total number of games in a season, minus the number of wins for the first place team, minus the number of losses for the second place team, plus one. So, if we were to use the Cubs record on Friday, it would be Total number of games in an MLB season - Cubs wins - Brewers losses + 1 = Magic Number!, or, 162 - 92 - 69 + 1 = 2!
I love watching magic numbers, as each draws closer to zero and we see the playoff picture come into clearer focus, my baseball loving heart fills with excitement and anticipation. Also, when a team your rooting for is in first place it is fun to know just how close they are to clinching a coveted playoff spot. So, for me to watch the Cubs (2) and the Dodgers (7) move closer to winning their division is exciting indeed.
I enjoy things even more to see the unexpected success of the Rays this season, it does my heart some good. They’ve never had even moderate success thus far in their short existence, so to look at the standings and see that they've already clinched a spot in the playoffs, and their magic number to win the division is 7 (not counting the conclusion of tonight's games) is stunning!
Anyway, magic numbers are a fun way for a baseball nerd like myself to get deeper into the game I love.
4. My iPhone:
There really isn’t anything that needs to be said. After two weeks with my iPhone, it’s everything I thought it would be. =)
5. Yankee Stadium:
I sit here in my living room as I write this, and watch with a full heart as, on the other side of the country, Yankee Stadium wraps up its storied career as the premier venue in sports.
Plenty has been said about how important Yankee Stadium is, not just to baseball, but sports in general, so I won’t go into great detail about how remarkable it is. What I will say is that it’s been pretty important in my life. You don’t have to know me very well to know about my passionate love for all things baseball, and Yankee Stadium was where I fell in love.
There are so many remarkable moments and memories I have as a lifelong Yankees fan that I will cherish for the rest of my life. My first baseball game was at Yankee Stadium, as Don Mattingly hit one out and the Yankees beat the Royals. I remember my first playoff game at Yankee Stadium, where Scotty Brosius hit the game winning home run and the Yankees beat the Rangers, and where Don Mattingly made an appearance before a screaming, electric crowd, and Mariano Rivera came in for the save to the sound of Metallica's “Enter Sandman”, a key part of what is still the most thrilling ritual I’ve ever witnessed in sports.
I even felt more connected to the games I watched on TV when they took place in the cathedral of baseball I’ve known so well. That trademark bright blue padding surrounding the field, that beautiful aerial view, the short porch in right field. As much as the pinstripes, they were always there to remind me of how special Yankees home games can be, and of all the great memories, frustration, pride, affection and enjoyment I’d found in being a Yankee fan for all these years.
I’m definitely excited about the new stadium, it looks beautiful and classy, carrying over not just the best of this Yankee Stadium, but also what Yankee Stadium was before the refurbishment of the late 70’s. That will become a special place as well in time. New memories will play out there.The fans will create an electric atmosphere again, the organization’s careful attention to tradition and history will make the ghosts feel at home, and the players will still step onto the field wearing pinstripes 81 times a season.
Still, while I've found some peace letting go of the old Yankee Stadium, there is definitely a part of my heart that will always stay in that hallowed place, and that will break when it is finally torn down. The best way I can think to describe it is as if the house you grew up in were torn down. Like your parents or your grandparents moved out of a home you thought you’d be able to visit forever. You thought you would bring your kids back and tell them stories from the house, but now it is gone and your children will never know it, you will never be able to visit the places of memory anymore.
So, with the coming demolition of Yankee Stadium, it’s as if part of myself will be torn down as well.
Goodbye old friend. I’ll always remember you.
So, it took Em and me forever to get home from Raleigh/Durham this weekend. We were there for my little brother's wedding and the trip home was meant to take place on Saturday. We got to the airport around 12:30pm to catch our 2:00 flight. As it would turn out, there was no rush, in that our plane to Nashville wouldn't end up leaving until well after 7:00 due to lightning storms. We ended up staying off the Nashville flight altogether because we'd missed our connection by quite a bit, thus we ended up taking an 11:00 pm flight to BWI to spend six hours there. When all was said and done the trip, which was meant to have taken 8 hours in total, wound up taking 25 instead.
Even after two days I'm still out of whack, so my brain is unable to go into great detail in praise of any particular thing. Thus, I will instead share some stuff I'm enjoying this week, as I've done in random posts in the past.
1. Chris Merritt - Pixie and the Bear
So, as some of you know, Waldo grew up with a guy who just so happens to be a remarkably talented singer/songwriter/musician. His new CD, Pixie and the Bear (which is available on his web site) is fantastic. I love it! I've been listening to it pretty much non-stop this week. You should most definitely check it out!
2. Lars and The Real Girl
Emily and I finally got around to seeing this film and we're glad we did. It's a lovely film about many things, including loving others well, growing up, and living in community.
3. Seattle
After being away for a few days, we're really glad to be home again. This really is our city, and we're glad to be here. For those of you who care, the Why I Love Seattle posts really will come back someday... someday very soon!
4. Okkervil River - Black Sheep Boy
It isn't their most recent album, but it is certainly my favorite. I had the pleasure of listening to it without interruption or distraction when we were flying to NC, and it had been long enough that the beauty of the CD struck me all over again. For my money, this CD (including the appendix) is nothing short of a masterpiece. Brilliant!
5. Mario Kart for Wii
For those of you who don't like video games, no words will help you understand. For those of you who do, no words are needed. Mario Kart, welcome back.
It took far too long, but I finally got Muse's new live CD/DVD: HAARP.
To celebrate this joyous occasion, this week's clip is a live performance of Butterflies and Hurricanes.
Enjoy!
I realize this blog may be a little lacking in the area of fluidity and it might jump around a bit. I've just been living from deadline to deadline at school this month but I didn't want to miss a week so soon. So, I hope everyone can bear with me, and perhaps it can still work as a means of grace.
I've blogged before about my affection for the often covered, Leonard Cohen penned masterpiece "Hallelujah". Since Cohen originally wrote the song it has taken on a life of its own, for a variety of reasons. As one of the many aspects of the brilliance of the song, one of the reasons for the remarkable cover life the song has experienced would be the reality that over time Cohen continued adding verses to the song, performing the song in different forms throughout the years. Apparently, in total, the song has 15 different verses, and Cohen himself performs only a few at a given time when he plays the song.
This is significant because when an artist covers the song they are able to pick which of the 15 verses they will perform themselves, thus drawing upon what the song means to them so they can truly make the song their own. This is significant with this particular song because, as is often Cohen's tendency, the Biblical metaphors he uses to sing about life and romantic love gives the song layers that make it possible to interpret "Hallelujah" in a seemingly infinite number of ways. I won't go into much more detail about the song's history because, as I said, I've blogged on the song before.
The last time I blogged about the song I included various versions that are among my favorite covers, such as the immortal cover by Jeff Buckley (which is actually what many are covering when they perform the song) and the Rufus Wainwright version. However, as of the time I wrote that blog, I hadn't yet heard David Bazan perform the song, a moment that instantaneously pushed this particular performance to the top of my list.
There are many covers of the song that I love, but none have hit me with the force and depth of David Bazan's, due in large part to his choice of verses (which is actually the original version I believe) along with the desperation and subtle intensity with which Bazan performs.
Bazan's version somehow hits the heart of my faith, or perhaps my consistent lack thereof, as much as any other song I know. I'm sure part of it is the history of what Bazan's other songs have meant to me.
/i heard there was a secret chord that David played and it pleased the Lord/but you don't really care for music do you?/it goes like this, the 4th, the 5th, the minor fall, the major lift/the baffled king composing hallelujah/
I can't recall hearing a version of this song that doesn't begin with this same opening line. This beautiful, poetic description of a baffled King David composing what could only be described as 'Hallelujah'. This idea resonates in me because in a way I relate to it.
There seems to me to be an undercurrent of redemption and beauty under all there is. Often I feel disconnected from this redemption and beauty, and attempting to reach out and touch it by choice is an almost sure way to miss it, but there are countless times when, without expecting it, I have been struck by an overwhelming sense of this beautiful secret hidden in all reality. At times, as with this series of music posts, I try to point out the places where this redemption and beauty appear to me so that I can share it somehow, so that maybe others can experience the feeling I had at unintentionally uncovering buried treasure. Usually these attempts are feeble and misguided, and yet somehow there are times, be it a preaching moment, or when something I've written has been a means of grace to someone else, or even just through a conversation with a friend, when I've been able to be a part of composing hallelujah. There is never a moment, during my part in this, where I could be described as anything other than baffled, and so this understanding of the baffled composing the very essence of hallelujah reminds me that this is the nature of things, it is mysterious and unquantifiable and strange.
/she broke your crown and cut your hair/she tied you to her kitchen chair/and from your lips she drew the hallelujahs/
/you say i took the name in vain/well i don't even know the name/and if i did/well, really, what's it to you?/
And yet, for all of these moments and discoveries, overwhelming doubt is a part of my life as frequently as (and at times, it seems, more frequently than) faith. We've all been crushed and had our 'glory' taken from us. Perhaps it was by those we loved, or by losing that which we cherished, or by pain of many kinds. It's so easy to lose that which makes us feel like ourselves, to forget who we are or to have sudden moments where we realize we never knew. Life constantly seems to throw things at us that break our crown, that leave us powerless, and that take the very hallelujahs from our lips, leaving us empty and without hope.
In these moments, I often rage at a God I feel I hardly know. I kick against the absence and darkness and loneliness that so often seem to be the hallmarks of my relationship with Jesus. And yet at times, it seems that these moments of darkness lead to a brokenness which, while I can't articulate why, I sense may be my only hope for redemption.
/cuz there's a blaze of light in every word/it does not matter which you heard/the holy or the broken hallelujah/
It seems the prosperity gospel most peddle on television and in books speaks of faith as if it is supposed to be an answer to our problems. We'll be happy and wealthy and free from stress and pain, and if not, it just means we don't have enough faith. Once we get rid of that last little bit of sin, once we learn to pray with a heart of faith, all those problems go away. Yet it would seem to me that a life where we were constantly happy and wealthy and free from stress and pain would leave us shallow and empty. Although, even with that said, the pain of this world is unevenly distributed, and to attempt to answer it with a glib "what doesn't kill us makes us stronger" type philosophy on life is full of holes. Pain is a mystery. And yet somehow, the only hope for making sense of it is that somehow it is in fact a part of our redemption. God has never explained to us why we suffer, why we are allowed to continue hurting, why children are allowed to pay so dearly for nothing. And yet, the understanding that Jesus is God means that while God doesn't tell us why suffering happens, he sanctified it as holy by coming down amongst our suffering and questioning and tears, saying to all who hurt, "Me too." I don't know how it works, and I avoid suffering as much as anyone I know, but somehow it really doesn't matter whether or not we hear "the holy or the broken hallelujah," because each is brimming with redemption.
Yet, while I write this, hoping for it to be true, I must admit that my suffering and, even more, the suffering of others, often makes it hard for me to believe. But of all the things that make it hard for me to believe there is truth in the Gospel, none strike a deadlier blow than my own life.
/i did my best, it wasn't much/i could not feel so i tried to touch/i told the truth, i did not come to fool you/and even though it all went wrong, i'll stand before the Lord of Song with nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah... Hallelujah... Hallelujah/
The greatest argument I know against the transforming power of the Good News is my own seeming inability to be transformed. I fuck up so constantly. I hurt those I love, I am petty and selfish and lazy, I consistently cooperate with darkness and evil as opposed to Light, as opposed to the Kingdom.
And that is why it often makes me cry when Bazan cries out, with what feels to me as vulnerability and desperation: /And even though it all went wrong I'll stand before the Lord of Song with nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah/. Because this is my only hope, that for all the miserable mistakes I make, for all the ugliness I unleash on those around me, for all the times I allow materialism and selfishness to keep me from doing the right thing, that it might be enough when I stand before the Lord of Song to simply cry out "Hallelujah" in my brokenness. To sing out, with my woefully inadequate singing voice, the broken hallelujah.
It strikes me as I write this that perhaps my theology is just a theology of wishful thinking. Maybe I'm just hoping against hope that there might be a place in the Kingdom for someone as screwed up as me. But perhaps it's 'too good not to be true,' to paraphrase C.S. Lewis. Maybe a God who truly knows us intimately understands that while the Gospel is madness, it is even crazier to expect anyone to become a part of the Kingdom if it costs any more than a broken, often half-hearted hallelujah. For my sake, I sure as hell hope that's true; and with the little I've learned about people in my lifetime, I think there's a good chance you do too.
As I continue doing these music posts, there will undoubtedly be artists that have been particularly important to me in various ways who will inevitably end up making appearances multiple times. One example of this would be Tom Waits, who was the subject of the first ever official untitled music posts, and will certainly show up again from time to time.
I bring this up because this week’s band will be towards the very top of the list when it comes to repeat offenders. The band of which I’m speaking being U2.
This week’s song is actually three songs, taken from the recording of a live performance in Boston, Massachusetts. The clip was included on the band’s Electrical Storm single back in 2002, and the concert audio is from the band’s Elevation Tour.
Many who have seen U2 live refer to their experience there as ‘religious,’ and those who know much about U2 recognize that this is no accident. U2 has an uncanny ability to turn a stadium into a sanctuary, to turn an entire arena into an altar, all the while without the false religious theatrics and buzz words that officially “Christian market” bands often utilize. This three song medley of sorts is a prime example of U2 at the top of their game, and while I know that 12 minutes and 28 seconds is a long audio clip, I urge you friends to listen to the whole thing. Do it for me if for no other reason. The songs that make up this 12:28 are “Bad”, a brief piece of “40”, followed by “Where The Streets Have No Name”. Maybe you can open up another window and listen to the song while you read the text, that would probably save considerable time, and I imagine it would enhance whatever you might get out of the post.
As an aside, if it weren’t for Bono’s continued articulations of his faith, this clip alone would be enough to convince me that at the very least he was the unwitting instrument of the hand of God.
/if i could, you know i would/if i could i would let it go/surrender/dislocate/
/if i could/through myself/set your spirit free/i’d lead your heart astray/just to see you break/break away/into the light/
The clip begins with "Bad", which just so happens to be one of my favorite U2 songs (which for those who know me is saying a lot). When it comes to U2 songs, you can't pin them down to mean only one thing, even the most straightforward songs have taken on new meaning when the band performs them in new contexts. Yet, among other things, Bad is a song about addiction, brokenness and sin. It’s about being trapped in a cycle of self-abuse and destruction and being unable to free yourself. And it is also about being unable to free the one you love from their addiction, about finding ourselves ill-equipped to give someone else the strength and courage they need to break out of the darkness and into the light. The song doesn’t end with much hope aside from the reality that we are facing the darkness, we are aware of the deadliness and power of our addictions. We understand our powerlessness, and also how destructive our sin is to ourselves and those who love us. /I’m wide awake/I’m not sleeping/
Then, without hesitation, Bono’s cry of finally being wide awake moves into “40”, taken mostly from Psalm 40, as he leads the audience which has now become the congregation in a desperate plea to know how long we have to sing this song of brokenness and sin. And yet while the chorus they sing from “40” is a desire to know /how long to sing this song?/, the Psalm on which the song is based is a remembrance of God’s faithfulness. There is a shift from the hopelessness of our broken hearts toward a remembrance that God hears our cries and will deliver us from the darkness into new life.
Then Bono’s voice breaks off as the crowd, whether they realize the significance of their words or not, continues to cry out both in desperation, and in remembrance of God’s faithfulness. And they continue to sing, and at first, they are unaware of what is stirring in the background. The music is shifting behind their prayer of remembrance with a shift from “40” to “Where The Streets Have No Name,” a song about the Kingdom of God. “Where The Streets Have No Name” slowly starts to break in, much like the Kingdom it points to. It is subtle at first, and then it begins to take shape, its form taking on greater and greater complexity as it grows. And then the congregation realizes what’s happening. Seemingly as one, the crowd recognizes the song and begins to cheer its arrival. They do the only thing one truly can do in response to the Kingdom, they celebrate. And as the song continues to take its shape the celebration grows in pitch and intensity, until, over their voices, Bono begins to pray.
He prays from Psalm 116, closely referencing the way it appears in Eugene Peterson’s The Message: “What can I give back to God for the blessings he’s poured out on me? I’ll lift high the cup of salvation - a toast to God! I’ll pray in the name of God; I’ll complete what I promised God I’d do, and I’ll do it together with his people.” And by the end of this prayer, the song is in full swing, and the only thing left to do is join the party.
/i want to tear down the walls that hold me tonight/i want to reach out and touch the flame/where the streets have no name/i want to feel sunlight on my face/i see the dust cloud disappear without a trace/
/i’ll show you a place/with no sorrow and there’s no shame/where the streets have no name/
I’m not sure what else to say to articulate the way this moves me. When I listen to this final transition my eyes fill with tears, my heart welling up with a sense of joy it doesn’t normally know. So, in my lack of words I’ll simply point to how Bono closes out the song: “This is all we can do.” Because this is all we can do. All we can do in this world in which we are constantly exposed to darkness, is to celebrate those areas where we see light. All we can do in this valley where the shadow of death threatens to overwhelm, is to throw a party whenever the rays of new life touch our faces, dreaming of the day when finally the dust cloud will disappear and we will see clearly for the first time.
If nothing else, U2 reminds me that we can never forget the power of evil in this world, we can never close our eyes to the pain and suffering and darkness that fills our world. And yet they remind me that sometimes the best way to combat the evil in this world is to get together in as large a number as possible, dance like our lives depend on it (because they do), and sing at the top of our lungs about a day when our tears of sorrow will forever disappear, and shame will be a distant memory.
This is all we can do. Amen.
Alright, the moral of this story thus far is that I suck at keeping up with a daily posting theme. Yet I will push on even so. Now that orientation week is over I should be able to keep posting with daily regularity. We'll see.
Today's reason as to why I love Seattle is a new revelation as of last night. A glorious gift the universe offered me as the point continues to be hammered home that this is the place I've been called for whatever mysterious reason. You see, for the rest of my life, Seattle will forever be the place where I was able to witness, for the very first time, the glorious experience of seeing Muse live.
Last night, after a brief purgatory of sitting through Juliette and the Licks and dealing for a few moments with the drunk guy in front of us who appeared to have pooped in his pants, it finally happened. After years of waiting, after missing them by mere inches so many times before, I was finally present for the painfully beautiful assault of sight and sound that is a Muse concert. I can't really imagine what it is like to create something as beautiful as Muse does on a near nightly basis; combining the elements of beauty, the joy and the sadness, the elation and the rage, the pain and the pleasure that comes together to make life what it is.
After the years of anticipation it would have been impossible for the show to exceed my expectations, and yet every so often the impossible comes to pass as it did last night. Light and fury, remarkable musicianship, intensity of stage presence, laughter and mourning, all a concert can be at the best of moments.
The best moment was probably the back to back punch provided by the songs 'Invincible' and 'Starlight,' with a heavy emphasis on 'Invincible.' The video montage that accompanied the song making clear the reality that as one humanity would discover the invincibility that comes with peace. The montage nearly brought us to tears as we witnessed the best and the worst that we do to each other, the footage changing from the beautiful to the ugly as the music shifted to its climax, powerfully setting us up to feel the punch and understand just how sharp the point really is.
If you hate loud music, avoid Muse in concert, my ears will probably be ringing for days (thanks in no small part to how amazingly close General Admission Standing Room tickets allowed us to get). However if you can take loud music but don't like Muse you should still take any opportunity to see them in concert, you just might be converted.
So, from last night forward, Seattle will always have a special place in my heart as the place where my pilgrimage toward Muse finally found its fruition.
I'm going to blog my latest two trip experiences in backwards order. I'll wait until a bit later to make the Jacobs Field post, but for the moment I'm compelled to blog about the events that took place afterward.
The game at Jacobs was a lot of fun. We rooted for the Indians as they poured on the offense throughout the game and got a win for Sabathia even though he looked more like some strange impostor wearing Sabathia's jersey. Throughout the game there was an extra bit of joy throughout the crowd as their Indians beat the Detroit Tigers because it was ever present in their minds that over in Detroit their Cavaliers were facing the hated Detroit Pistons in what is thus far the most important playoff series of Lebron James' young career. The last update we'd received was that the Cavs were down by 9, not a happy revelation for fans who know how tough it is to play at The Palace.
After the game Emily and I knew that the game was still going on and figured it would probably be a fun experience to head over to a bar and watch the end of the game in Cleveland with all the hometown fans cheering on their team. This decision was solidified when we watched the 3rd period end as we left Jacobs only to see that a 3-pointer at the buzzer had just tied the game. We never made it to a bar.
The reason we never made it to a bar was because as we left through the Right Field gate we noticed the majority of the fans were making their way across the street to the Quicken Loans Arena, the home of the Cavs when they are in town. We realized that if we could get inside this experience would be a once in a lifetime opportunity. As we got closer we realized that they were letting people in for FREE, all you had to do was make it through a metal detector. They made us check our camera with the coat check because the 'zoom was too long' and we made our way inside. It was a madhouse! The very upper tier was closed for security reasons, but beyond that the arena was packed beyond capacity. With the rush of people from Jacobs security has simply given up and let any and all enter.
Once inside we finally made our way all the way around the arena where we could get in and find seats from a group who'd just left. What followed may very well end as the most fun we will have on our trip.
I like Lebron and I hate the Pistons. The last thing I want to see is the Pistons vs. the Spurs in The Finals in an old fashioned battle between Evil vs. Evil. This being the case, it wasn't too difficult for me to join in with the fervor and become a rabid Cavs fan in some less dangerous version of mob mentality.
The atmosphere was electric. I screamed along with everyone else until I was hoarse. I still don't have a voice this afternoon. We hung on every play, our stomachs turned at every bad call, we erupted as one when Lebron dunked it, not once but TWICE, to tie the game in the closing seconds of regulation.
Watching a double overtime playoff game would be fun anywhere, but to be in the midst of Cavs Nation, surrounded by Cavs jerseys and 'Witness' t-shirts, with the Quicken Loans Arena in full game mode (dancers, scream team, mascot and all) was fantastic. Lebron will be the next Jordan. He is 22 years old, you can still see his youth; a mental mistake here, a brief lack of poise there, but even so he took the Cavs on his back and scored their last 25!! points (along with 29 of its last 30!). The Cavs didn't beat the Pistons in overtime, Lebron beat the Pistons in overtime.
The game was a must win. If the Pistons had won it would mean the best case scenario for the Cavs would include a Game 7 in Detroit against a much more experienced team and one of the most clutch teams in recent memory. Detroit doesnt panic. Detroit is flat-out a team of winners. Yet Lebron took control and at times all the Pistons could do was stand around and watch with a stupid look on their face while Lebron did his thing (as can be seen in the picture below).
When Lebron put down what turned out to be the final nail in the coffin with 2.3 seconds left we screamed and then watched and waited to see if Rip or Billups had any magic left. They didn't. Billups got the shot off in time but it didn't sink. If we hadn't been family before, we were now. We yelled, we jumped up and down, I hugged people I didn't know. I high-fived so many people in the hallways on the way out my shoulder hurt. It happened by accident, we never could have planned it, but it was fantastic!
I tell you what folks. The universe is on our side on this trip. I think there is some sort of conspiracy of fun happening. Perhaps Mars Hill is going to be harder and darker than I expected and this is God's way of making sure I remember there is something to smile about, things to hope for, things worth fighting to save. All I know is Cleveland is a hell of a lot more fun than it gets credit for.
