Posted by: Lowery Johnson on February 3rd, 2011The author's views are entirely his or her own and may not reflect the views of the Utah Jazz.
WARNING: Reader discretion is advised. The following is a real account of Boozer’s number #1 fan, and may induce hatred.
It’s hard to explain when I became infatuated with Carlos Boozer. I think it started in 2005. I saw him and fell in love. Something about those caterpillar sized eyebrows I suppose, or maybe that fade-away jumper. Whatever it was, I fell head over Nike’s.
I know, I know. Make fun of me as you wish; I’ve heard all the insults before… He was paid a lot of money to sit on the bench. He choked in the playoffs. He’s an adulterer. He spends more time car shopping than defending opponents. He’s never seen a pair of tweezers before. He has the mouth the size of an angry alligator and yells like a dinosaur in danger. But still I loved him.
I cried when Boozer left Utah. First off, I was scared, I knew the Jazz had to replace something that I saw as irreplaceable. Like I mentioned earlier, I realize he was a max money guy who “conveniently” gets injured, but an empty spot on the roster means a new player. A new player means rebuilding a once solid habit of communication between a team from scratch.
In no way do I mean disrespect to Al Jefferson. I am a fan of Al’s and see promising potential in him as his career with Utah progresses.
I also felt sad the way things ended. I had my heart set on meeting Mr. Boozer. I wanted to be Mrs. Boozer. Seriously, I was devoted. I created a Facebook page called “Keep Carlos Boozer,” I wrote Boozer a letter telling him that not all of Utah hated him (didn’t send it…). I framed a poster of Deron Williams and Boozer and hung it on my wall. I will be the first to admit that any of the following words described my behavior/relationship with Booz: obsessed, infatuated, unhealthy, insane, one-sided, ridiculous, unmerited, creepy.
It wasn’t until about a month ago that I was glad he was gone. It wasn’t him breaking his hand, it wasn’t the rumors of him sleeping with a contestant on the Bachelor, nope not even his divorce. It was even simpler than that. It happened in a spontaneous epiphany, in which I realized Carlos Boozer didn’t deserve my fan-hood. My ears were thumping to the bass of Taio Cruz’s “Break Your Heart” and I couldn’t help but realize how that song perfectly illustrates Utah’s relationship with Boozer. In the song, Ludacris said, “Now I may not be the worst or the best, but you’ve gotta respect my honesty. And I may break your heart but and I don’t really think there’s anybody as bomb as me.”
I stopped for a second and thought about it. Yeah, Boozer does think he’s bomb. He isn’t the worst, he’s not the best. And he had been open about his desire to get out of Utah. I should have known better. Boozer let me down. All those wasted tears, all those minutes I spent defending his character to fellow Jazz fans, all the times I pretended those yells during the playoffs were coming from other players. It shattered my entire universe.
So when I saw the schedule for this season, I circled the game with Chicago. My step dad got us tickets to the game and I went to work on this:
Not only had I been meaning to take some signage for Harpring and Boller’s enjoyment, but I also thought that Boozer should know that he let down a fan who truly believed in him at one time.
I like our team without Boozer. Though, sometimes I miss his aggression and his audible passion, I really think Utah is better off with Jefferson’s work ethic.
I WAS Boozer’s #1 fan.
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