Vignettes from Mavs-Warriors Game 4

Eric jostled with the other Warriors fans against the chain link fence. Some of them had been waiting in line outside the parking lot of Oracle Arena since 2:30 in the morning, but due to mismanagement, there was no number taking for folks that had been waiting, and instead it would be first come first serve for those who could make it across the parking lot to the ticket office. The official unlocked the gate, and with a pounding of feet, everyone began sprinting.


After dodging cars, sideswiping people, and otherwise leaving a swath of destruction in his wake, Eric was able to score 8 tickets (4 to game 3, 4 to game 4) of which he generously provided me one:


The Warriors take game 3 handily to go up 2-1 in the series, in Golden State's first home playoff game since 1994, when C-Webb, Spree for 3, and Mullin were getting slaughtered by Charles Barkley. Game 4, however, is the real swing game - a loss would give home court advantage back to Dallas, and they'd undoubtedly come out swinging with the confidence that the league's best record will give. It'd be up to us fans to give the team the extra edge needed in contests like these.

Arrival at the Arena. Walking along the concourse from the BART station to the entrance, there is a palpable energy among the fans making their way in, most of whom are clad in yellow "WE BELIEVE" t-shirts from Friday night's win. While standing in line, there's some whooping, spontaneous "Go WARRIORS!" shouts, and general high spirits. As a group, diehard Warriors fans tend to be rather dour, believing that anything that can go wrong will go wrong - but there's been some magic surrounding Oakland the last month or so.

We walk in the door, and we get our first bad news of the night - no T-shirts today, just "We believe" towels. What is this? Too cheap to put out another batch of shirts? This puts a damper on morale in 2 ways:

1) you lose the uniformity of the sea of yellow ringing the stands
2) waving towels prevents fans from clapping and otherwise being able to make more noise which is the whole point

Not only that, but they run out of towels before we are able to get a hold of them. Not a promising start.

Pregame. We find our seats in section 219, with our backs almost literally against the wall - we are one row in front of the side of the arena. We are so high up that when standing, we can't see the score on the scoreboard due to the slope of the roof. On the plus side, however, the cheap seats ("cheap") are where you can typically find the most intelligent and spirited fans, who pay less so that they can get into more games. For example, it's the upper deck fans that know not to chant "M-V-P" while Baron is shooting free throws since it's distracting (chant it during timeouts, dangit!). The white guy sitting in front of us is wearing a Jamison #33 jersey, and the three Latinos to our right are clad in the "We Believe" shirts from Friday. To our right are a few Filipinos who never sat down. We will have further interactions with these folks throughout the game.


Starting lineups. The fans are in a frenzy already. During the Warriors' intros, they dim the lights to a ghostly blue glow, and bring out flame machines. I've always been puzzled by these - why decrease the air quality on the floor when world-class athletes will need all the oxygen they can get?


Tipoff!


The crowd is already into it - Eric and I are starting the "AH-OHHHHHHHHH" yell from Cal football days, we're standing, and our section appears to be the one starting the "DE-FENSE" chant for each Dallas possession. On a set of Jason Terry free throws, Eric says resignedly, "He doesn't miss these - he's like a 90% free throw shooter." Naturally, Terry bricks the first free throw, a victim of the legendary stat curse, and Jamison Jersey turns around to give Eric a high five. It's that kind of night.

Latino guys just sat down with some freshly fried fish and chips, with the smell wafting up to our row and reminding us that we had to skip dinner in order to make it to the Arena on time. I clomp down on my cough drop (I went through around 6-7 during the course of the game to preserve my vocal cords) and continue yelling. The Latino guys have also bought a beer bong, a plastic container about the length of a human arm shaped like a pipe - when drinking, the suds would flow to the other end and look like smoke. Creative.

... This isn't a good first half. For the first time in the series, the Mavericks look like a 67-win team and the Warriors look like a bunch of schmoes that are just happy to be there. Howard isn't missing from midrange, Dirk had a morale-breaking dunk that left the basket stanchion shaking for a good 5-10 seconds, and it seemed that all of our fervent chants are coldly, almost casually, being shrugged off. The only bright side is that the Warriors are remaining in striking distance due to a succession of lucky shots and some unexpected energy from Pietrus, who typifies the "No, no no... YES!" reaction that the crowd is going to have all night long.




Near halftime, Dirk had just converted a 3-pt play and all of us in the stands were starting to wonder if this was really going to be our night, seeing as how our guys seemed to be outclassed. Then this happened:



That was just what we needed. Not only did it knot up the score going into halftime, it infused the crowd with a burst of energy that we were able to sustain throughout the break, and also, it gave us our first indication that on this night at least, Baron Davis could do no wrong. In every clutch situation, we knew that he would be able to come through.

In the 3rd, the Mavs tried to pull away, aided by a bunch of frustrating blocking fouls that sent Stackhouse to the line for what seemed like 100 consecutive possessions (those watching on TV probably heard the vitriolic "Bull****" chant that the arena was yelling), but the determination of the crowd and a few more lucky shots helped keep the Warriors in it. Then, Baron came through again to give the W's momentum going into the 4th:



This was a man's play - because while the halfcourt heave was luck, this was pure willpower to take the ball away from Terry, fight him off running down the court, and finish strong with two hands before time could run out.

The final push came with around 4 minutes left. Watch the following vid, and imagine the energy of the crowd as we yelled, clapped, chanted, and willed our guys to overcome :



When Biedrins dunked the assist pass from Baron, and when Barnes 3-ptr fell through the net, the roof nearly blew off. We yelled, slapped hands with everyone within arms' reach, and jumped up and down with the players. To think that half a year ago, we were watching Murphy not boxing out and Dunleavy missing open jumpers, and now we could just enjoy a team with heart... what a feeling.

When Nowitzki hit the two 3s at the end, and Baron missed his first free throw to leave the W's with only a 3-pt lead, in the old days I would have the sinking feeling that the Mavs would find some way of tossing in a miracle 3-ptr to send the game into overtime. But there's a new atmosphere going on now, and Pietrus of all people sealed the deal by picking off Harris' inbounds pass (though true to form, he followed up his brilliant play with a dumb one by getting close enough to the rim to get fouled).

I'm not looking ahead to the next round by any means, particularly after seeing the Lakers get overtaken by the Suns in last year's playoffs. But you know what? Being part of the game 4 win is probably one of my greatest sporting experiences.


I Believe! Go Warriors!