Snapped: Celtics Shutdown Oracle Party at Record 54 Games

I’ve never been to a party that was shut down by the flashing blue lights of a police car, but after Friday night’s shocking Boston Celtics victory over the seemingly invincible 68-8 Golden State Warriors at Oracle Arena in Oakland, I think I know the feeling. The stunned Warriors fans, known as Dub Nation, stumbled and mumbled their way out of the no-longer Roaring Oracle around 10:15pm last night, while the four of us muttered to ourselves, “Did that just happen?”

In the arc of lifelong fandom, at the young age of 36, I have been fortunate enough to witness several moments which might appropriately be titled “epic.” Eric and I attended the biggest 4th quarter comeback in NBA playoff history as 22 year-olds. We stood in the balcony of the Garden as the whole building swayed back and forth, vibrating under our stomps and shouts.

That fourth quarter is imprinted in my memory as a symbol of possibility, of redemption and synchronicity, and of pure joy. The same way many NBA lovers refer to these Warriors. Steph Curry becomes a manifestation of hopeful possibility, of mind-blowing shot-making and unrestrained passion and love of the game. We won’t bother to discuss racial overtones, and the projections of purity reserved for the lightest-skinned. The fan in front of me googled, “Steph Curry heritage” in the second quarter, which tells you two things: 1) Steph Curry is very light-skinned; and 2) People are going to a party, where basketball happens to be the theme.

That 2002 fourth quarter is living (or remembered proof) of the power of irrational belief. Those moments are what makes fandom my religion, and the arena my temple. People like to cheer for a winning team. People in the Bay Area love a party. Many in the Bay Area are incredibly wealthy. The exclusivity of the party becomes apparent, compared to the surprising success of the “We Believe” Baron Davis-Stephen Jackson upset Warriors. Instead of “We Believe,” these Warriors fans are a more entitled, more selfie-focused bunch, dancing in their Curry jerseys. This may sound like a harsh judgment, but when you look around and don’t see many brown and black faces in the stands compared with a decade earlier, it’s less harsh and more honest. Regardless of the sociological implications, the game is still a game, and the athletic displays are still mind-blowing. The game itself is a beautiful thing to watch. The roar of the crowd as quiet as a whisper to the keen observer. The silent Jay Gatsby, observing all of his drunken fools at the most luxurious and reckless gatherings on West Egg. That’s what its like to hear 20,000 fans walk quietly out of the Arena, the beer buzzing floating out into the Oakland night. The wealthy retreating to their SUVs and the masses headed toward the BART. The fucking Celtics beat the Warriors. Fuck, yes.

January 27th, 2015. Bulls 113, Warriors 111 (OT). The 36-6 Warriors lost their 7th game of the season that night. Natasha was there with work friends. Ironically, the next game she attended was last night. Symmetry. Bookends. 54 games, 54 wins. In between the two losses: an NBA title; a national love affair; an MVP crowned, and a march toward 73 wins and NBA history.

The details of how it happened are less important than the lingering images. Marcus Smart hounding in the backcourt, causing an offensive foul in the form of a Harrison Barnes elbow to the jaw. Avery Bradley denying Steph Curry any space in the first half, relentlessly sprinting out to the three-point arc on the weak side. Amir Johnson doing his relentless dirty work underneath, forcing mid-air adjustments. Without their backbone, Jae Crowder, the Celtics threatened the Warriors and they’re rabid fans with sheer will and zero fear for the biggest moments. With every third quarter Steph Curry swish (6 from deep), the Celtics bounced back, keeping the fans from erupting. Crowder is perhaps the best representation of what sheer willpower can do to energize a team. Rare players like Draymond Green and Jae Crowder make the NBA what it is. Steph Curry may bring pure joy to the game and enthrall the casual fan with his heroics but the determination and unity of a great defense resonates with those who have played the game competitively themselves. One basketball goes through a hoop, but five guys to move on a string through time and space.

No Jae and these Celtics still found a way. No Iguodala and no Ezeli and these Warriors continue to chase 73. There is an undeniable force that runs through these guys that feels like 1985-86 Celtics, which I was too young to appreciate. An unselfishness that may have been matched by the fluidity of the recent Spurs championship. San Antonio awaits the Warriors in what most NBA lovers are dreaming is a classic Western Conference Finals. The 82-game season is far too long. But game #76 for both teams will leave another permanent reminder of the possibilities, of the beauty of the game, and of the deafening silence of a crowd, recognizing their own mortality. Every party ends. The real party begins in two weeks…

That Little Steph Guy

As I was walking around Berkeley the other day, I overheard these words:

“Know about Steph Curry? The guy leading the team?

I guess he’s like 6’3.” I thought he was like 5’9.”

Clearly, the young guy was not a hardcore Warriors fan. The fact that he thought Curry was six inches shorter than he is speaks to the superhero mythology that has been building around Steph for the last few years, as it did around Nash ten years ago. It is undeniable. He is not physically imposing, even compared to other point guards:

• not as strong as Chris Paul or Kyle Lowry
• not as fast as John Wall, Tony Parker or Jeff Teague
• not as fast and strong as Russell Westbrook (few are)

Some see Steph is an amalgamation of Steve Nash (dribbling, vision, pick-and-roll maestro), Allen Iverson (desire), and Bob Cousy (pure magician). Steph was finishing high school when Nash won his back-to-back MVPs in 2005 and 2006. Curry can lay claim to being the greatest shooting point guard in NBA history as a 27 year-old, but his game has morphed into something resembling the creativity and brilliance of Nash. Steve Kerr agrees. An excerpt from Lee Jenkins’ Sports Illustrated profile of Curry, notes Steph’s relentless shooting drills:

On the last Tuesday of the regular season, at the Warriors’ training facility, Curry sets up in the right corner and splashes nine of 10. “Good,” says special assistant Nick U’Ren, rebounding for him. Curry moves to the right wing and cans 10 of 10. “Better,” U’Ren nods. Curry skips to the top of the circle and drains 10 of 10 again. U’Ren turns to a couple of spectators under the basket. “Wow,” he mouths. Here it is, the Curry Zone. He starts 48 of 50. Four times he yells, “Short!” on shots that swish. He sweeps back across the perimeter, hitting 10 of 10 from the left corner, 10 of 10 from the left wing. Teammates are watching. Cameras are filming. “Don’t get giddy,” Curry tells himself. He’s made 77 in a row, and when he finally misfires from the top of the circle, he grabs Green’s jersey and screams. He finishes 94 of 100.

It’s the off-the-dribble shooting from 28-feet, with just a smidgen of a window to release…it’s the dribbling through rush-hour traffic…and the Nash-like behind-the-back whip-around passes…it’s the high-arcing floaters in the lane…it’s the flammable element. Combine all of the above with an insatiable desire to win and you get the 2015 MVP.

Steph Curry’s game-tying corner three-pointer in Game 3 vs. New Orleans

In a simple way, it’s the image of the ball dropping so purely through the net that the rim appears unimportant, only the nylon moving. There is poetry to the arc of some long-distance shots. The best shooters usually release the ball on perfect balance. Think catch-and-shoot magicians like Ray Allen and Kyle Korver. What makes Steph so unique is his ability to shift direction and stay on-balance, and the fact that he can release the ball from more than one angle. As you can see in the picture here, sometimes he doesn’t even need to see the rim.

Will he continue to make his imprint on the game under the biggest of spotlights? Something tells me he will. Riley has more to say.

For Steph Curry and the Golden State Warriors: Harry Nilsson’s “Coconut”

For Steph Curry, Warriors savior, league MVP, and all-around magic man:

Said Doctor, “Ain’t there nothing I can take?”

“To relieve this (head) ache?”

Put the lime in the coconut, and drink ’em both together.

And then you’ll feel better.