Los Angeles - Clippers Game

Jinxing the Streak
As we drove down Vermont through Little Armenia and Little Korea, we discussed the jinx.  We joked that our presence at Staples would surely halt the Clipper's winning streak at sixteen.  I envisioned a blow out, the angry crowd filing out in the middle of the third quarter.  Little Korea isn't so little anymore - it's come back from the riots and expanded.  A left turn onto Pico and the Korean gave way to Spanish.  We parked on Figueroa about a block away.  Thanks to the magic of the internet I'd prepaid $25 for a $10 parking space.

Staples is less a place for basketball than a night club.  There was a large bar just inside the front door and four Clipper cheerleaders were posing for photos with fans.  They looked like they'd been photoshopped by a thirteen year old boy - all boobs and ass in impossible proportions.  The arena was a scene from Blade Runner.  Blue and red neon lights raked over us and my heart quickly gave up its own rhythm for that of the music thumping from thousands of overhead speakers.  People were standing and cheering and hugging each other and the game hadn't even started.  We were at a rave with assigned seating.  A potato shaped DJ was in charge of the soundtrack.  He stood in front of his mixer at mid court about forty rows up shouting "COME ON CLIPPER NATION, MAKE SOME NOISE!"  A million strong shouting at the top of their lungs wouldn't have made a dent.

A large flashing spaceship hovered over the court beaming videos.  A digital Grant Hill in a tight suit thanked us for coming.  Then a famous wrestler flexed his biceps and implored the crowd to do the same.  Flash cut to an old lady in a Clippers jersey with bowed arms clowning for the camera.  Cut back to the wrestler, now earnestly suggesting we visit a certain bank's website for the best in micro loans.  At mid-court an MC talked us through the pre-game sideshows: eight year olds playing five on five, a man heaving a shot from mid-court hoping to win a pickup truck.  The MC was on the first rungs of the Hollywood ladder.  He looked like a former high school quarterback, you could see his glowing white teeth from the rafters.  I imagined that he was capable of strangling his grandmother to get a B-movie role.  The noise was growing, increasing bit by bit until suddenly there was silence!  The game had begun.