It's now been six days since the Heat beat the Thunder to win the championship. Six days to cool off from the emotions.
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The emotions for an event that I (and all Cleveland fans) were rooting so hard against. For obvious reasons. But this time, That Guy in Miami just came up absolutely huge. It shouldn't surprise any Cavaliers fan that TGiM could dominate as many games as he did to close out a season. It just pains us to see him actually do it for another team. And infuriates us that he didn't seem to ever give full effort in bringing a championship to Cleveland. Between not helping collect free agent help, not committing long term, or outright quitting on the team, the list of grievances is long. And that list came out with full fury in the wake of "The Decision."
All though the playoffs last year and this, the interwebs were filled with mockups of "Mavaliers", "Windiana", and "OKCLE." Shit, we were even rooting for the Boston Celtics, of all teams. But this year, all that hoping that was so blissfully fulfilled by the Dallas Mavericks in 2011, could not be repeated in 2012.
And to be honest, I guess I'm okay with it now. When Game 2 ended with a blatent no-call on LeBron James fouling Kevin Durant on the baseline, I had a knowing pain in the pit of my stomach. And it didn't let up, even though I still had faith in OKC, for the rest of the series. (Until the third quarter of Game 5, I guess.) When the final buzzer sounded and Miami started celebrating, I expected that I would turn the television off and go on a national media blackout for a few days.
But I didn't. I did what I've always done. Whether it's the Denver Broncos, the Florida Marlins, the Pittsburgh Steelers, or the Boston Celtics, I've always watched the celebration. Absorbed the joy from them. Seethed in self-pity. And put those feelings in a vault. To be uncorked when a Cleveland team finally wins a championship. With the two bottles of $7 "champagne" I still have sitting in my liquor cabinet, bought on a cold October night in 1997.