September 12, 2020

 

I had a lazy Saturday morning wake up.  With no TNT game scheduled this was going to be another day to simply get through.  The weather was cloudy and cool because of the tropical depression that was making its way up the gulf coast of Florida.  I loved it because it enabled me to prop my door open and get a breeze inside an otherwise continuously air conditioned room.

 

Dennis, one of the fortunate Turner camera operators that left this morning, sent us a group text as he sat on his Southwest flight headed for Houston, then on to Los Angeles.  “I am sitting right across the aisle from our Houston bad boy House. Evidently he wasn’t sent home the other day. I should ask him how the team is doing.  Take care all.  Hang in there.  You’re all going to be free soon!” 

 

Not long after we received the text from Dennis, Ryan, one of the others set free earlier, simply sent us a photograph.  No words needed to accompany the picture.  It was a beautifully framed photo of a Culvers hamburger and fries with the Culvers monument sign in the background.  My mouth watered looking at that beautiful snapshot.  Not to be outdone Jonathan, another greenie still within our confines, posted two memes immediately after.  One of a child asking what’s for dinner.  Followed by a picture of a chicken.   Damn Jonathan slammed us back to reality.

 

Because of the wonderful rainy and cool weather any form of outdoor activity was impossible.  The grass on COVID Field was saturated and the pickle ball courts had been stashed away somewhere. That left me with the fitness center as my only opportunity so I hustled in and got that out of the way.  There were more than four of us in there at any given time but nobody seemed to care.  Perhaps we were looking for a little confrontation, anything to break the cycle of our Groundhog Day life.  I know I was. I was fully prepared to challenge anyone that tested my presence and protocol within our bubble.  I realized I had started to become very restless and somewhat unsatisfied with my existence as each day crawled by.  Perhaps the fact that the finish line was in sight but it wasn’t coming fast enough.  And also I had become quite envious of those that had been able to depart.  Today marked two months that I had been here and it was to believe it had only been two months.  It seemed much longer

 

I made my usual stroll across the bridge and was stopped halfway by a Disney security guard.  “Sorry sir, only NBA personnel and families are allowed out here.”  Mother fucker!  I told him I’d been making this stroll every day since I had been released from quarantine.  “New rules, I’m just doing what I had been told.” 

 

I was furious but I did not take it out on him.  I decided enough was enough and when I take my NBA Health App the next day I was going to click the link that says I wanted to speak with a mental health professional.  It is ridiculous that we continue to get squeezed more and more the longer we are held hostage in this environment.  If anything our liberties should be extended not withdrawn.  I peer into the huge family pool and Jacuzzi and there is nobody there.  I look towards the arcade that is player and family only and it is empty. There are fewer and fewer teams here along with less support staff yet our options continue to dwindle or get reduced for some reason.  It is now that I wonder if not only are we here to support the NBA and its success, but are we part of some wild social experiment as well?  Now I know I am going a tad bit nuts if I’m developing conspiracy theories in my head.

 

Only one game is to be played today.  The Lakers can send the rest of the Houston team home with a victory.  The game was over before it began.  The Rockets played listless almost like they wanted the inevitable to occur.  Now the Lakers can rest up for their probable Western Conference matchup with the team that shares their home arena, the Clippers.  They can eliminate Denver tomorrow. 

 

I eventually learn that Mike D’Antoni will not be returning as head coach of the Rockets.  He did what he could as he turned them into a competitive “small ball” team but he fell short in the process.  I am sure he will land on his feet with some other NBA team looking to fill a coaching vacancy unless he decides to kick the can down the road and walk away from basketball.

 

After the game ended I started to walk across the bridge to the Villa del Lago bar in the lagoon, the same bridge I was turned away from earlier in the day.  Kelly was going home tomorrow so we said what the hell, let’s see if we can get in and have a beer.  To my amazement we made it unimpeded and enjoyed a couple of beers to celebrate his departure.  The weather was beautiful as the breeze blew through the open air restaurant and the temperature was perfect.  A couple of nondescript players and their families were there as well but we paid them no attention.  That’s what we are supposed to do and that’s what we did.  Even though I was thoroughly enjoying the miniscule change of scenery it was wonderful to being able to do something different but I couldn’t help but wonder why I was not allowed in this vicinity earlier in the day.  One thing that may have contributed to that was there was only one security guard positioned on the bridges, and he couldn’t cover all three of them, so we simply avoided him altogether to make it to our destination.

 

As I bid Kelly goodbye and walked to my room I realized I had better change my attitude if I was going to get through these last couple of weeks.  I took several deep breaths before going to sleep.  I knew I could do it, I just wasn’t sure if I was going to enjoy it.