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by Pat Rupp
Thisweek Newspapers
A couple of weeks ago I received an e-mail from my daughter Julie (FHS Class of 1988) who now resides in Laguna Hills, California. I noticed immediately a photo had been attached so I skipped the message to see what I presumed would be the latest award-winning picture of one or more of her three young children.
Instead, I found an image of a packed basketball arena. Afraid I had
somehow entered the Twilight Zone, my eyes quickly returned to the body
of the message where I learned she had sent the photo via one of her
many 21st century technological toys and was, in fact, sitting at Game
4 of the Denver Nuggets-Dallas Mavericks playoff game at the Pepsi
Center in Denver.
She gushed about the teamwork displayed by the Nuggets as well as the
electricity generated by the rabid Denver fans. “You’d love it here,
Dad,” she said.
Fast forward a week. Another e-mail from California graced my inbox,
this one wanting to know if she provided the tickets and lodging would
I join her in Denver Memorial Day evening for Game 4 of the hotly
contested Nuggets-Los Angeles Lakers Western Conference finals.
Because spontaneity is not necessarily my strong suit, I initially
pooh-poohed the idea. But upon further thought and review, I thought:
“You’re only old once, so why not.”
Long story short, I jumped on a plane Monday morning, met my favorite
daughter at the remote Denver Airport and headed to the Mile High City
for a night to remember.
The atmosphere in the Pepsi Center was even more electric than
advertised, not reminiscent at all of the playoffs from the old days
when the Minnesota Timberwolves made their annual one-and-done
appearance in the post-season.
The juiced up crowd was rowdy but for the most part respectful,
although the buzz in the concourses was deafening. Replica jerseys of
Carmelo Anthony, “Birdman” Chris Anderson and hometown favorite and
Timberwolf cast-off Chauncey Billups were everywhere. The chant of
“Let’s Go Nuggets” still rings in my ears.
Inside the arena things got even louder. By the time the public address
announcer, who had a voice so deep he made Barry White sound like a
soprano, worked the crowd into a frenzy, the roof of the Pepsi Center
seemed to shake.
Julie was also spot on about the home team’s style of play. Kobe Bryant
made one of two free throws to start the night but from there on, it
was all Nuggets all of the time. Unselfish play and their 19,500
supporters produced a resounding 120-101 win.
Denver’s starting front line of Anthony, Kenyon Martin and Nene along
with the uniquely coiffed and tattooed Birdman physically pounded their
Hollywood guests into submission while guards Billups and J.R. Smith
shot the lights out from the perimeter.
Bryant, arguably the best one-on-five player in the history of
basketball, got his points (34) but was booed every time he touched the
ball and, all in all, didn’t look like he was having much fun.
The trip out of the arena seemed endless but there was no shortage of
free entertainment. The “Let’s Go Nuggets” refrain resumed, interrupted
only by an occasional rendition of the old favorite “Beat L.A.”.
We sat in the hotel until after midnight and talked of old times,
family and, of course, basketball. Then after a night of limited sleep
we met in the lobby for the bleary-eyed ride back to the airport.
By 2:00 on Tuesday I was sitting in my quiet Minneapolis suburban home
and Julie was back in Orange County, no doubt plotting how to arrange a
business trip to Denver for Friday, the date for Game Six of the
Nuggets-Lakers series.
I’ll have to catch that one on television but the memories from this
week’s 28-hour fantasy trip will make it seem like I’m there in Section
106 with the other Nugget crazies.
Thanks, Jules. Your old Dad really appreciated the adventure.
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