I’ve decided to never refer to you as “Amar’etard” again. As far as I could tell from my perch up in 208, you came back last night like whoa and ooh, and perhaps I should find another nickname for you. In 2007 around Super Bowl XLI, the fellas and I sat around and came up with nicknames for athletes relating to food. I believe at that time your name was “Worchesterstoudemire Sauce” – or something really difficult to say tentimesfast. But now what will I call you? I suppose I’ll wait until Tuesday in case last night was the result of some freak accident (cue Lost music…not that I ever, ever watched that show. Maybe once. Okay maybe four times.)
My hands hurt from clapping and high-fiving everyone around me last night. Literally, they are still a little swollen and red this morning. Strange that I still feel the urge to clap even now. My voice was toast when I got home, and the ringing in my ears continued on ‘til the wee hours of the morning. I only wound up punching Erik in the leg three times (tell Dudley he made momma proud)and actually made “friends” with the old lady next to me (who said she knows Dudley’s dad – he works at some Costco someplace, allegedly). I did see an old man wearing a Lakers jersey two rows ahead and I was very tempted to throw my empty cup at him, but he was surrounded (justice!) by orange so I spared him. What a sight – orange everywhere. Does that make a huge difference to the players? Inquiring minds are asking but not sticking around for the answer…
The only person I wanted to really punch wasn’t an old lady at all…it was a daffy Lakers fan in the bathroom who was spewing ebonics and ignorance all ovetr the place talking about Bryant and Bynam. I thought of about 30 awesome things to say to her, but just didn’t find the time or the courage. She was…big.
During the game I kept yelling “Arms! Arms!” and it worked. I kept yelling “Run! Run!” and it worked. I called out “Looouuuuu” and “ROLO!” I said “that’s my baby!” when Dudley did right. I booed the crap out of Kobe and Gasol. I laughed my ass off at Odom (he’s just funny). My eyes popped out of my head when I saw you (Amar’e, don’t forget) lay down the law and get back into the game. I swung my lucky Nash jersey around in the air. I said about three times, “Not tonight Lakers, not in our city!” and voila, 118-109 Suns VICTORY. So yes, you may thank me for assisting with this amazing win. And Erik is quite happy that he didn’t suffer much bruising from my fist to his leg (he has what I would call a sharp knee – when I realized this I didn’t really want to punch him again anyway). Oh, and don’t worry…I’ll be back in the upper level again on Tuesday. This time I’ll be watching Frye. Seriously, I think you need to slap some STAT into that guy, like, yesterday.