Before the Finals started, the Onion had a classic little article from the dateline "PARADISE":
God, the omnipotent and omniscient Creator of the Universe who recently saw fit to allow the Cleveland Cavaliers to advance to the NBA Finals, expressed concern Tuesday that He might be causing the earthly city of Cleveland undue emotional anguish by doing so. "I can't help feeling that they who dwell in Cleveland and root for the Cavaliers have done nothing to warrant the dashing of their hopes after having them raised to such lofty heights," said God, who acknowledged that day-to-day life was bitter enough for city residents. "Although I move in mysterious ways, and in doing so often allow bad things to happen to good people, My grand design is usually glorious to behold. But the Cavs in the Finals...I don't know, maybe that's just plain mean."
Funny, right?
And even though it was a joke, as the fourth quarter was winding down, and the enthusiasm of Cavalier fans was thoroughly AWOL, I wondered: was it too painful? Is this too much of an emotional roller coaster for the city of ultimate sports hardship? Would it have been better never to have entertained the notion of winning this whole thing, especially in a year when just making the conference finals would have been perfectly nice?
Better to have loved and lost ... or never to have loved at all?
As the fans were filing out, I wandered out into the concourse, in the thick of that exit shuffle.
And you know what?
Despite that excellent source, the Onion was wrong this time. The NBA Finals experience was hardly cruel to the City of Cleveland. These fans were not broken. There were plenty of smiles, even if they were a tad weary. Body language was positive. It was an "aw shucks" moment, not a Prozac moment.
One of the displays on the concourse featured stacks of loose bricks. It occured to me that in a lot of cities, that would be at least a theoretical safety hazard in the midst of an angry, exiting mob on the wrong end of an elimination game. But apparently no staffer had been compelled to remove them because none imagined that, in this mellow crowd, anyone would aim a brick at a nearby window.
Cavalier fans, the ones I have talked to, feel they're at the beginning of something, more than the end. Yes, they have mighty challenges ahead. Some big bad contracts and no first round pick are bitter accompaniment to some real roster needs. The Cavaliers' return to this stage is not assured -- not by a long shot.
But with LeBron James just 22 and an owner commited to the long haul, the future holds more wonder than worry.
As I packed up the laptop and headed out of the media section and down to the court, an usher intercepted me a big smile and a shake of the hand.
"Thanks for coming to Cleveland," he said. "See you again next year!"
