Consider Ass Kicked!

Wow. I don't know where to begin. I'm overwhelmed. Overstimulated. I. Am. Buzzed. (Which is probably why I set a personal-best on my morning constitutional today.) Like some other people I could name, I am feeling it.

So. The Chicago Sky concluded their playoff run yesterday afternoon. It was one which culminated in a stirring 80 – 74 victory over the Phoenix Mercury and a WNBA championship.

But it didn't go according to script.

The team I saw through the first the three quarters was one I haven't seen in a while. Perhaps a dozen missed lay-ups and point-blank shots. Threes lofted early in the shot clock with no one underneath to rebound. 

And considering they were shooting just eighteen-percent, there were lots of them.

Errant passes. Rushed passes. Sluggish defensive rotations. It was not pretty. But considering how fast the Sky had gone from zero to sixty these past weeks, it would be entirely understandable if they were feeling the heat of a white-hot spotlight.

Nevertheless, it served to mute the sold-out crowd. Their unmet expectations pooled behind them like water in a reservoir. The faces gathered at the Sky bench during time-outs were dour. Disappointed. This was not happening.

After being outshot and outscored in each of the first three quarters, the scoreboard read Mercury 63, Sky 54. Not an insurmountable margin, to be sure. But with so little evidence it would be, fans could be forgiven for steeling themselves against the possibility the Sky might not clinch this day. 

I know I was.

I'm not sure exactly when it changed.

In my happy haze, I remember Allie Quigley hitting several threes. Then it was Candace Parker's turn. A match had been lit. Fans expressed their pent-up delight. The arena was stirring.

Something was definitely afoot.

The revitalized Sky continued to score. Defend. Pass. To play like the team they had been throughout their wondrous run. It was one of Stefanie Dolson's shots from the paint that finally put them on top. The crowd erupted. Delirium was Wintrust Arena's new normal.

A Courtney Vandersloot jumper and and two free throws put the icing on the cake. The screaming and the cheering and the bedlam did not stop. So this was what it's like to be at a championship clincher!

I was beside myself, but in a healthy, non-multiple-personality-disorder kind of way. This couldn't be happening, could it? Not after those first three quarters? I checked the guy next to me. He was beaming. “Can you believe this?” he said. I shook my head “No.” I was smiling beneath my mask.

I raised my arms above my head and howled.

On the Mercury's final possession, Brittney Griner put up a three. It bounced off the rim and fell. Parker picked-off the rebound and dribbled up court. Only seconds stood between the Sky and a title.

The horn sounded. Disbelief. They had done it!

The realization that it was over was both a happy and sad one. I watched the players congregate at center court, where bits of gold and blue foil floated down from above. Hip-hop boomed over the PA. To (almost) quote David Bowie, I was floating in a most peculiar way.

At last I exited the arena. The late-afternoon sky was cloudless and brilliant blue. Perfect. I went for a walk to soak up whatever ambiance might be lying around. The Phoenix team bus was stationed at the southeast corner of the arena. Two players exited to applause from a pair of die-hard fans.

It was not acknowledged.

(I later learned that Griner, Diana Taurasi and Skylar Diggins had boycotted the post-game press conference. Their petulance reminded me of the Detroit Pistons and the 1991 Eastern Conference Finals, where Isiah Thomas and Bill Laimbeer (among others) skulked off the floor before the game four rout had even concluded. Is it possible Taurasi and the two Pistons are somehow related?)

Finally, I must give a shout-out to Dolson and starting center Azura Stevens. They endured the brunt of inexplicable calls against the Sky. To wit, Griner and Mercury forward Kia Vaughn appeared to body, shove and grab Stevens and Dolson with impunity, while the Sky centers were hit with fouls if they so much as perspired on their Phoenix counterparts.

Ditto an invisible offensive foul on Quigley. Huh? In one aspect at least, the WNBA has achieved parity with the NBA: its officiating is equally inconsistent and arbitrary. In the context of that officiating, yesterday's game was a horror show.

Okay. Enough.

I drove home in contented silence, happy for all concerned. I hope they keep this memory close for the remainder of their lives. It is so very, very special.