It was 5:30. Excited to go to the game, I had been ready for an hour. My younger sisters, who happen to be twins, were not nearly as excited. When asked if they were ready, I received the unsurprising, "Why do we have to go to the game," "Can we leave after half time," (It turns out their friend was performing in the half time show, and that was the only reason they planned to stay that long) and, "I hate basketball." Soon after, my dad emerged from the shower and told the four of us it was time to go, finally. Shockingly, when the idea of actually leaving was proposed, one was "sick" and the other randomly decided to conjure up some hot chocolate. The magic potion hot chocolate had perked twin #1 up, while twin #2 opted to stay home.
On our way to the game, we had a blast. Newly rejuvenated twin #1 was rocking out to Guns n' Roses, which was a stark contrast to her mood back at home. I was somewhat disappointed to be leaving so late, but it turned out that we got there just after tip off thanks to good traffic and speedy driving. We headed into US Air and rushed to get food and sit down. The line for a hot dog was long, so I opted for a mediocre sporting event Streets of New York pizza. My dad tried to send me with ten dollars, I reminded him of where we were. Sure enough, the miniature pizza and the smallest soda costed a whopping $12.25. After making fun of my dad's inability to estimate prices, we sat down.
The game was probably the least interesting part of the night, much more was going on. An eight or so year old and his dad had an awesome sign that read, "Hey SPLASH BROS meet the best backcourt in the NBA Goran Dragic and Eric Bledsoe." The only thing missing was Slash Bros instead of their names. Every time out Suns players would nudge each other and point to the sign with a little smirk. PJ's reaction was the best, he just gave them a nod. Arguably my favorite part of the night was seeing the crowd react. There was a life in the arena that I haven't seen in ages. Sure it was half full, but the crowd gave a roaring applause for the "Sun Dance Kids" or whatever they're called. The energy was there, and it's great to see.
The game got better with age, twin #1 totally got into it. She would scream when a Warrior's player shot, with the hope of making him miss. Every apposing free throw was accompanied by a shrill scream. Over the course of the game she had fine tuned her noises to find the ones that worked the best. It even grew to the offensive end. On a Suns' free throw, you could hear a single "Woohoo!" from the crowd. I couldn't seem to convince her that her words of encouragement were possibly hurting. Before the game, my dad had said that we were going to leave in the third quarter, since the magic hot chocolate was bound to wear off. Sadly, near the end of the third quarter it was time to go. After multiple thunderous Plumblocks, and likely the most fun I've ever had at a game, we headed home.
In the car, twin #1 quickly caught on to the radio stylings of Al McCoy. Whenever he would say Shazam, so would she. As we returned home, the fourth quarter neared its end, we had stalled at the game while my dad met some friends. I ran in to catch the last 30 seconds. Sure enough, the Suns pulled out the victory, and twin #1 pulled out another woohoo. Twin #2 showed zero remorse, and zero sign of being sick. What a great win, and night. It was so refreshing to see energy back into Planet Orange.