Watching Game 1 of the Chicago Bulls vs. the Miami Heat in the first round of the Eastern Conference Playoffs, something struck me as odd.
No, it had nothing to do with the Bulls' frantic comeback or Dwyane Wade's fourth-quarter mastery.
My concerns were more sartorial in nature.
It was the sea of white shirts in the lower bowl of the Miami arena that constantly drew my attention. At first, it was just a passing observation. I thought it must be incredibly imposing for a visiting team to come to town and walk out onto the court surrounded by a complete whiteout of excited Miami fans, as if the prospect of dealing with Shaq and Wade wasn't imposing enough.
Funny would have been a blanket of neon green or pastel pink shirts.
This was intimidating. It was like the Heat had arranged for a Psych Ward Nurse Convention to attend the game.
As I watched the game, it dawned on me slowly that the crowd was different for more reasons than their white attire. Something about the energy and atmosphere in the arena was different than I had seen or felt for the entire season. And, yet, it was vaguely familiar.
I kept trying to remember where else I had seen or experienced something similar.
It finally dawned on me that the atmosphere, the energy, the crowd, the attire, the noise all reminded me of a college basketball game. Not just March Madness, but many regular season NCAA games.
For all those basketball enthusiasts that insist that the college game is more exciting because teams play with better fundamentals or with a higher level of intensity, perhaps it is time to look at the people around the court instead of on it to find the differences between the NCAA and NBA.
The NBA is the cream of the crop when it comes to basketball players. There's a reason why there are thousands of college basketball players and only a handful of professionals. The talent is widdled down to the best of the best on the court and on the sidelines.
Sure, there are distinct differences in the style of play between the two levels, and we all know that there are players that play selfishly and think that they get a paycheck for demonstrating their individual talents for the fans. However, as far as the levels of competition and skill go, there is no comparison.
Still, for Game 1, the outstanding players on the court for the Heat and Bulls weren't my main concern.
Looking around the lower bowl of the Miami arena, I saw a sea of white shirts, and I saw a college basketball game environment. It was something more akin to a student section all wearing the team colors and jumping up and down with unnerving excitement for every play than entire sections of well-dressed businessmen taking in a game after a long day at work.
I've been to plenty of NBA games and the environment doesn't exactly scream intensity. It bears no resemblance to the high-octane energy I've found at high school or college games. The only time fans seem to get out of their seats is when the game is really close and the PA announcer tells them to.
Student sections need no instruction.
Maybe the difference between the NBA regular season and the playoffs is the energy the fans bring to the game. Maybe the NBA payoffs are exciting because they are more like college games. Maybe the difference is in the seats in the arena, not on the floor.
What can this atmosphere do to the game?
It can make the Bulls hang around with a very good Heat team (twice.) It can make the Lakers fight it out to the end with the Suns (with Kobe only scoring 22 points.) It can make the Kings take the Spurs to overtime (on a lucky shot by Brent Barry.)
It can make series close that should be sweeps.
The adrenaline rushes down from the nose bleed seats through the capillaries of aisles and stairways and seeps onto the hardwood like an undulating wave of noise and motion from the Cameron Crazies.
Yes, the best teams will most likely still advance because of the seven-game series. However, if it was one-and-done like in March Madness, I would not put my money on a Spurs/Pistons Final.
On Tuesday night, I went to the Cleveland Indians vs. Boston Red Sox game at Jacob's Field, which happened to be just a few hundred feet away from where the Cavs were playing the Wizards at exactly the same time.
The atmosphere was electric all night, both before and after the game. It was like being in Columbus for a Buckeyes game. Fans, young and old, walked around with painted faces and Anderson Varejao wigs. Everyone was dressed in the Cavs' wine and gold colors. In between booing Manny Ramirez and David Ortiz, fans at the baseball game clamored for views of the Cavs/Wizards score.
It was Go Back to College Night on the NBA campus.
The sea of white shirts, the painted faces, the unprompted ovations, and chants were emblematic of a change in the fans.
What couldn't be prodded or gimmicked with hot dog giveaways and special dance teams during the season now comes naturally in spontaneous and enthusiastic waves of white.
After a long, hard semester, the students are out in force and stopping at an arena near you posing as real NBA fans.
Maybe next time they'll take my advice and opt for neon green.
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