A couple friends and I dragged our weary behinds out of bed at 7am to begin the trek across Taipei on foot, train, and tread. We plopped down at our reserved table in front of a movie theatre sized projection screen and sipped coffee to warm and wake us....
Who am I kidding, the anticipation of what might happen woke me up plenty before the alarm ever did. I knew that this was going to be special. All the coffee did was amp up my already amp uppedness (look it up, it's a word, if not I am writing Webster).
You knew when they appeared on the court. You could hear 65,000 voices charge the air before the cameras ever showed their faces. Have you ever felt your hairs bristle on end before lightning strikes? Same feeling.... You know something life changing is about to happen.
The sportscaster, recognizing the once-in-a-lifetime moment, introduced their names to the crowd with a bravado and confidence that only comes from a home team broadcaster.... except he wasn't. The crowd cheer their approval of the newest bandwagon fan member.
I can only imagine what it felt like to have an entire stadium of 70,000 scream their support in your direction....
The tip came, the battle began, and from the opening moments you knew this was going to be special.... The Devil and the Butler Bulldogs.
Twenty minutes passed, only a one point separated the uncanny pairing.
"This isn't supposed to be happening," I overhear a Taiwanese coed wearing a Devil tee-shirt say to her companion. Minions who go to The Devil's school have a certain smugness that is cross cultural.
"Just listen to that crowd," I interject. I'm sure she enjoyed the uninvited comment of the third guest into her conversation, but she sold her soul to The Devil... I have no sympathies for her or her plight.
As the second half resumed and played out, you could feel it. The Bulldogs weren't going away. "If they could get a stop here... they could turn this thing around." They did. But The Devil pulled another ace from up his sleeve.
"If they can hit some free throws, this thing is within reach." And again The Bulldog answered the call.
With ninety seconds to go not a seat was being used at Lucas Oil Stadium in Indianapolis, and I was blazing burn marks into the hardwood floors at The Brass Monkey American Sports Pub in Taipei, Taiwan.
Then The Kid took the ball into his own hands and stepped up to square off against The Devil.
The kid took his first shot at The Devil... a high arching impossible floater over the 7 foot minion... that... just... MIGHT!
An inch off. If baseball is the game of inches, basketball just made it's argument to claim that title.
The kid sprung right up off the hardwood. There was more sport to be played and he knew he might have another shot.
The Bulldog played it smart and stopped the clock. The 7-footer went to the line. He hit one to go up 61-59. Two seconds left in the game.
Then The Devil did something I never thought he would ever do.... Tricky Devil. In an attempt to run out the clock he intentionally missed the free-throw! But The Devil didn't put any minions on the lane to get a rebound! He had them get into defensive positioning in the off chance that The Bulldog would get the rebound.
Then the strangest thing happened. Time slowed down.
As the rebound shot off the back of the rim it seemed to careen straight into the outstretched hands of... The KID!
The Kid knew that there wasn't much time, so in one fluid motion he spun around just to see the 7-footer in his way of the target. He crossed right, sprinted two huge steps that screened off another smaller minion and put that ball into his shooting hand and let it fly....
Have you ever heard 70,000 people collectively gasp?
Those who had the right angle, who lined up the shot directly from The Kid's hand to the goal, they began to shout! They knew that this shot was perfectly on line!
THE KID DID IT! He knocked out the devil! The jubilation began to unfurl!
But it was just a tad premeditated.
You see, there were 70,000 and one in attendance that night that collectively gasped when that shot arched through the sky. Except one gasped for another reason.
It seems The Devil let out a puff just strong enough to send that shot sailing just an inch too far for it to fall through the hoop.
No one heard it, because just as the ball got close to the goal, that puff was masked by the blaring of the horn.
The Kid just stood there and looked at the rim.
He did what no one ever had attempted... he took his shot at The Devil.
And just like that.... poof.... He was gone.
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