For a little background, I have a son (7) and a daughter (5), we’re here in Laker land, surrounded by car flags and #24 jerseys, but they’re being raised right to love the Suns, and for their respective birthdays asked for and received Nash jerseys. My daughter doesn’t quite get the whole thing yet, but my son is dialed in to the rivalries, eliminations, great-players, etc. They watch a bit with me, but the games are on a little too late for them and their combined attention span doesn’t really allow for any real focus on the game itself, although we have some entertaining discussions on what the Gorilla would do to the Coyote should they fight. We usually watch the 1st quarter together and then I send them off to bed, which while entertaining lacks most of the real drama.

Anyway, my son wandered out of his bedroom with about 7 minutes to go in the 4th quarter of game 5 and the Suns up 74-70, wondering what the score was. I invited him out to watch the finish, and I was rewarded with our first real father-son sports fan moment, as the context, lack of distractions, and overall intensity of the game drew him in. We cheered together for the Suns big shots, few as they were, and none louder than when Nash finally got a jumper to go down. It all worked out except for the end, but the seeds were sown for a future Suns fan, grounded firmly in the idea that the Spurs are the bad guys, and that every victory over them tastes a little sweeter than the others.

F….x….U….x…..C…...x…...K!