He did it.
Kawhi did it.
He willed the mediocre Raptors to a Eastern Conference Finals. Not only was he the leading scorer, but he hit the last second shot.
Before that happened though we had a great game 7. Back and forth, my pseudo beloved Sixers really had me believing that they could do something in this game, but it wasn’t in the cards.
When Kawhi tossed that shot up, the world slowed down a bit. I had a flash back to the 2014 season. I saw the defense and the offense and the future that we could’ve had. I saw five more world championships and the second coming of Old Man Riverwalk. I saw the finals MVP in a Finals that had Tim Duncan, Lebron James, Manu Ginobili, Dwayne Wade, Tony Parker and Chris Bosh. Yeah, he beat 6 Hall of Famers for the Finals MVP. I saw my new favorite player.
Then the ball hit the rim. I jumped up and yelled. It hit the rim again, I think I hit my head on the door frame. It hit the rim a third time, I blacked out. It hit a fourth time and I was as close to a heart attack as I’ve ever been.
Then it went in.
I hit the ground and buried my head in my hands. All the things that I remembered earlier where washed away with the new thought of my once “new favorite player” leading another team to a championship, him hoisting a Larry O’Brian and a Bill Russel, then signing a huge deal with the Lakers.
Sports are cool a lot of the time, they bring out some of the most genuine and exciting emotions we have as people, but sometimes sports break your heart. They break it into a million little pieces.