Punched in the Gut, or how I spent my Saturday

After all these years, you’d think I’d be prepared. You’d think I wouldn’t allow myself to be set up for such a soul crushing evening. After all, It isn’t as if I haven’t been through this before. Any longtime Atlanta sports fan will cringe at the mention of Cliff Levingston, or Jim Leyritz, or Eugene Robinson. But yesterday was unique in that there wasn’t just one heartbreaking moment but two, and they transpired just minutes, and a few miles, apart.

It all began just after 4pm, when the Braves took the field to play the Nationals. It didn’t take long for Julio Tehran, who currently possesses an ERA of 4.74, to pitch himself into a hole. I watched as the Nats put up three runs in the second inning, just before switching over for the tip off of the Hawks-Wizards playoff game. Not that it was much better on the hard wood.

Actually it was worse. The Braves poor start paled in comparison to the miserable first half performance by the Hawks. They shot about 30% from the field and trailed by thirteen at halftime. It didn’t get better in the third quarter either, as Washington stretched the lead to nineteen entering the fourth quarter.

Meanwhile, the Nationals increased their lead over the Braves to 6-1 with a three-run fifth inning. I briefly considered just turning the television off and going on with my evening. But being the glutton for punishment that I am, I flipped back to the basketball game.

It was early in the fourth quarter, and the Wizards’ lead had ballooned to 21. Conceding defeat, coach Budenholzer pulled his starters and emptied the bench. The Hawks would play the final ten minutes of the game with a lineup consisting of Shelvin Mack, Dennis Schroder, Mike Scott, Mike Muscala, and Kent Bazemore.

I turned back to baseball to find the game in the top of the eighth inning. The Braves had narrowed the Nationals’ lead to 6-3, and had the bases loaded! A groundout by Jace Peterson scored a run, and put the potential tying runs on second and third.

I checked in on the basketball game and realized that the Hawks were on a bit of a run. The lead was down to 13. The all-sub lineup was giving the Wizards fits! Apparently Washington had begun celebrating a bit too early. With only a few minutes to play, I didn’t hold out much hope of a true comeback, but I was damned if I would miss out if it did happen.

At this point, I began flipping rapidly back and forth between the two games. On the diamond Christian Bethancourt came to the plate with a chance to tie the game, while on the court Dennis Schroder was killing the Wizards with his drives to the basket. He dished to Bazemore for a lay up, and suddenly, the lead was in single digits!

I turned back to the baseball game just in time to see Bethancourt, who is hitting just .188 on the season, lauch a line drive into the gap. The game was tied! I switched back to the basketball game as Mike Scott drilled a long three pointer to cut the lead to five.

From here on out, my recollection of the timeline of events gets a little hazy. I was watching both games a little behind live television through the miracle of DVR, and I can’t be certain which order the next few things happened between the two games. All I know is that I was fully invested in both.

The Nats went quietly in the eighth, as did the Braves in the ninth. Washington came to bat in a 6-6 game. At around the same time, the Hawks finished off a 17-0 run to cut the Wizards’ lead to 94-91. Could it really be happening? Could one, or even both, of my teams pull off an epic comeback?

It certainly looked like it might happen. The Hawks got the ball with 22 seconds left, down by three. Schroder drove toward the paint, lost his footing, and slid to the floor, but still managed to kick the ball out to the waiting…Mike Muscala. Of all the shooters you’d want with a good look from behind the arc, Muscala ranks somewhere between Pero Antic and “Oh God no” on the list. He set his feet and let it rip.

The ball hung in the air, spinning lazily toward the rim. I had time to think that it was just my luck that the potential game tying shot ended up falling to someone who wouldn’t ordinarily even see time on the court. But then something unusual happened: it went in! The game was tied with 14 seconds left!

I couldn’t believe it! They’d done it! The Hawks had rallied from a 21 point fourth quarter deficit! In my elation, I nearly forgot to switch back to the Braves game. But then I remembered to flip over to it. Maybe this would be my night! But just as the thought began to crawl into my mind, this happened.

Bryce F*****g Harper. His two-run walk off home run won the game for the Nationals. What a crushing way to lose. My heart sank. Still though, there was the basketball game. I switched back just as the Wizards inbounded the ball.

With just a few seconds left, the ball found its way to Paul Pierce at the top of the key. Bazemore and Schroder were all over him, and it seemed like he wouldn’t even get a shot off. This game was headed for overtime, I thought. Then this happened.

Paul F*****g Pierce. Were the Wizards playing any other team, there is no way Pierce would have banked in an eighteen foot, fade away jumper at the buzzer. A fan of any other team would have watched the ball clank harmlessly off of the rim and headed to the kitchen for a snack before OT began. But not the Hawks. Not in my world.

I felt like I’d been kicked in the crotch. In rapid succession I deleted both games from the DVR, turned off the television, hurled my notebook and pen against the wall, punched the door, and stormed out of the room. I then proceeded to launch into a full blown tirade about the Braves, the Hawks, sports in general, and my own bad luck. It was a performance that would have made Steve Martin proud.

As I mentioned earlier, I guess I should have seen it coming. But when you think about it, what fun would it be if you didn’t let yourself believe? If I didn’t pour my heart and soul into every game, then those wonderful times when things do go our way wouldn’t be nearly as enjoyable.

Now that I’ve had a few hours to collect my thoughts, I’ve already begun looking forward to the next game. And the next one. And the next one. Because sports are what I do. Deep in my heart, I am a fan. And no matter how bad things get for my teams, that’s what I’ll always be.

That just about does it for now. I’ll be back soon to talk about the next huge embarrassing failure game in the Hawks-Wizards series. Perhaps Atlanta can even things up and come home in a 2-2 tie. And maybe the Braves can salvage a game vs the Nationals before heading for Cincinnati. Who knows? At this point, anything can happen. Until next time, keep the faith Atlanta. Even after yesterday, keep the faith.