Posted by: Brett on October 21st, 2010The author's views are entirely his or her own and may not reflect the views of the Utah Jazz.
I love everything about the Utah Jazz – the old-school toughness of an undersized John Stockton (who loves short shorts?), the gutsy buzzer beater from a newly acquired Sundiata Gaines, the reminder to “buckle up” at the end of each close game, and the fulfillment of seeing Tracy McGrady’s disappointed look year . . . after year . . . after year in the playoffs.
I’m the kid who painted a Jazz logo on the cement basketball court out back. I’m the kid who not only mowed the logo into his front lawn during the playoffs, but burnt the logo into the grass for the summer when he used Rust-o-leum spray paint to outline it. I’m the guy who skipped his sister’s wedding reception to watch the Jazz and Bulls scrap it out in the Finals on a crappy TV in the building’s basement. I’m not just the guy at the water cooler discussing last night’s game, I’m the guy leading the conversation at the water cooler all day long (and putting up with co-workers dirty looks – don’t judge me).
I have spent my days worshipping the latest and greatest of the Jazz: the Mailman, the Rookie from Marquette, Stock, Boozie, the Big Dawg, D-Will, Blue, AK47, Horny, Memo, the Brown Bear, and Bryon “Don’t Call Me Byron” Russell. I’ve watched ‘em come (like Fisher entering the game in the third quarter to beat the Warriors) and I’ve watched ‘em go (even though I still hate to see Wesley in a Blazers uniform).
Plain and simple – I’m a Jazz fan through and through! Through all years and pick-and-rolls, I could never cheer for another team. So in the legendary words of Hot Rod – “and it’s all almost over here!”
Come on - vote for me . . .
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