We are all Witnesses

Let me go ahead and preface this blog this way: I am a Cavs fan. I'm not supporting them just for the series, the season, or just because I think they will in the title.

I have been following this team for the past three seasons, through LeBron's first playoff appearance, the loss to the Spurs, and, most importantly, the trade for Mo Williams.

This also means I think LeBron definitely should have been MVP, that he will not be going anywhere in 2010 because players go to die and tattoo their temples in NYC (this week's SI cover supports my thoughts), and that Anderson Varajao could be let go to free up cap space if the Cavs drafted Psycho-T (similar style games).

Finally, it means that in about 12 years, I will be back into the shadows with my team, ready to celebrate just making the playoffs once again.

This is all to clear the air for one premise: I am not a bandwagon fan. I have certain feelings for bandwagon fans which I will express once my readership goes back up from the teens to the dozens during the school year. In a basic premise, you pick a team, and you ride that team until it drives you six feet under.

So, of course, the shot from LeBron James last night to tie the Eastern Conference Finals at one a piece sent me into a frenzy. Of course, it is no fun to just go into my feelings of the shot, because a game-winning three to win by one means you had to be down two before it happened.

In other words, I will start with about fifty seconds left in the game.

(Disclaimer: I am doing all of this off of memory because I couldn't get my DVR to work, so I just watched the shot five times over the hour that it was available to me. It would have been easier for me to work it if two things had been in my favor: 1) My house did not have a universal remote that I have still yet to fully figure out how to function and 2) If the DVR wasn't loaded down with Desperate Housewives and Prison Break and had enough room for me to stick the final minute and reaction on there, I would.)

48.7 seconds left: Hedo Turkoglu just hit a three to bring the Magic even at 93.

It was one of those beautiful plays you hardly ever see in the NBA, but it was against my team. The ball movement, the concentration on Dwight Howard, and the fact that Hedo was as as open as a Waffle House at 3 a.m.

It is one of those shots where you see where the ball ends up, and just put your head down. Marv let me know it was in, I didn't need to see it, I just knew it was in.

However, I did bring my head up in time to see Hedo start nodding and acting like he was the master of the universe (great job to have, btw). Here are two reasons why I can't stand him and it just made that moment more horrific than it was:

First, he is Turkish. I'm Greek. If you brush up on your Eastern European history, or if you have ever seen My Big Fat Greek Wedding, you would understand. The Turks took the Greeks land, including Constantinople (it's not Istanbul, damn it!), and didn't give it back until about two hundred years ago.

Second, he never closes his mouth. Never. It is like Pau Gasol...only worse. Hedo just has this dazed look in his eye and then has more of a wide opening. Gasol has more of a vertical opening, but it never closes, even when he talks. It is like there is an invisible string attached to his massive beak that runs to his top lip. Not to mention, Gasol just looks dumb, not dazed. Hedo at least just looks high and in need of some Cheesy Poofs. Cavs Timeout.

30.9 seconds left: LeBron puts the Cavs in the le... wait NO! NO! He did not travel!

I sat in wonderment at this horrific site of someone actually having the testicular fortitude to call a travel on LeBron James. It is just one of those things that you don't do, like kissing your cousin or picking a side in any Auburn/Tennessee match-up.

Upon hearing that whistle, I was sure that LeBron had gotten the lead, and the foul to go up three with only thirty to play. Instead, LeBron "walked," the Magic had the ball, but Cleveland still got the important 2-1 deal at the end of the game.

Even if this play didn't count, it was still LeBron going at Dwight Howard for points late in the game. We know it can be done. Mo Williams has done it, LeBron will do it, the Orlando Magic didn't feel like doing it in Game Two. Orlando ball.

13.7 seconds left: Are you freaking kidding me, Sasha? You foul, great job.

The entire possession I was screaming at the tv, "Don't foul. Don't foul." It was only last week when I finally understood that five fouls before the final two minutes meant the bonus (I prefer college sports, anyway), but I knew for sure that under two minutes after two fouls, the other team shoots.

The Cavs had a foul to give, but with only 30 seconds left, I knew the implications if they did. The Magic would take six or seven seconds to get across half court, plus Cleveland would have another chance with the ball...if they didn't foul.

Once it got under about twenty seconds, I started screaming louder, and then Sasha Pavlovic did his best impression of Kenyon Martin in WCF Game One. Reach across while the dazed Turk drives to the hoop and get called for a foul.

Mike, please call a timeout so I can draw some ruby red lips on the side of Sasha's neck and insult his mother. It would make me feel accomplished. Orlando ball, shot clock off (damn it!).

1.0 second left: My biggest enemy sinks a shot to go up two.

Leave it to the damn dirty Turk to sink a game-winning shot to put the Cavs in a 2-0 hole. It is bad enough when they call him "Mr. 4th Quarter," because let's face it, he can't hit a shot before three minutes left in the fourth. And even then, he is, at best, a thirty percent shooter, but tonight, he makes both of them. What the hell.

It was bad enough that Sasha Pavlovic had the foul on him before the shot, it was worse that he didn't leave his feet during the shot. Even moreso, LeBron didn't rotate over to help. The worst part: Pavlovic shares a first name with that other Sasha from Los Angeles. That is a worse curse than the Billy Goat curse on the Cubs. See, this is why you don't mess with the Greeks!

During the commercial break, I'm thinking it's over. We are down 0-2. I am already thinking that a repeat of Detroit '07 will be necessary to make it to the Finals. I look like a Bama fan during Shula's first season at The Capstone: distraught, hopeless, and just watching it all fall apart. I'm thinking who will get the ball, and then I slap myself and know who will get the ball. Ron Jeremy knows who is getting the ball. The real Ron Jeremy even knows who is getting the ball.

Coming back from the break, the crowd looks distraught, wondering how this is happening. A 23-point lead gone as if it was suppose to happen this way. This was worse than the Lakers meltdown in last year's Finals. The Cavs had the lead in the 4th Quarter by double digits at one point. Now, they are down two, with LeBron getting the ball, more than likely a lob to the basket.

Let's be real here, though, if Mo is talking with LeBron coming back from the break, that means Mo is throwing the ball in. Did Mike Brown not see what happens when your Muggsy Bogues impersonator throws the ball in, much less a lob to the basket? Anyway, here it goes. Cleveland ball.

0.0 seconds left: HOLY CRAP!!!!! DID LEBRON REALLY JUST HIT THAT!?!?!?!? WE WIN!!!!!

Even a day later, I can't describe that shot. It took forever for that shot to go in. Everything around me was silent. My computer, the crowd, my sister, nothing was being said as the ball travelled through the air. Then, the ball hits the back of the rim, the front of the rim, down.

My personal reaction almost destroyed my laptop. If you know my history with laptops, I would not have gotten a new one. In other words, I sat up and almost stood up in one motion, but gently put down my laptop on the table, and continued my screaming while I was jumping and fist pumping around the living room.

Now, here is the level of excitement that shot created. To compare, the Braves beat the Blue Jays and Roy Halladay, no less, 1-0 last night. The final play involved the tying run being 90 feet away while Martin Prado bobbles the final out before beating the runner by half a step. My emotional attachment to the Atlanta Braves is stronger than any team I cheer for, and that win only got me to sit up and one fist pump.

To compare, I can only think of three moments in sports that have gotten that kind of reaction from me: Vince Young's 4th down run to beat USC for the national title in January 2006, Matt Caddell's catch to beat Arkansas in September 2007, and "The Shot that Saved Lives" in March 2008..That's it.

It beat the Braves winning the World Series in October 1995, then again I was only 7, the 1999 SEC Championship, Money's Cotton Bowl field goal, Ron Steele beating Georgia, and watching any LSU or Auburn loss.

LeBron didn't expect to make that shot. No one expected to make that shot. He only has one buzzer-beater of memory, why would he be expected to make it?

I had one friend who actually did predict it, only because he was about to get his head chopped off for sending a Facebook chat with only the words, "that sucks..." (Rule number one about me and sports: If my team is losing by a lot or by a last-second happening, don't mess with me until I mess with someone else. It is a quick way to get extremely insulted.)

After watching that shot another one hundred times this morning, that buzzer while the ball is in mid flight just prolongs the shot. It is the midpoint of the shot, the precursor to unforgettable greatness. The lane was wide open for the lob to LeBron, but the dazed Turk wouldn't let him near the basket. Instead, High-as-a-kite Hedo is now a part of my desktop background, and I wouldn't have it any other way. This, once again, is why you don't mess with the Greeks!

Instead of being down 2-0, the Cavs have now tied the series. Craig Ehlo can once again show his face in Cleveland, and if it is in his ability, will probably sing the national anthem at the beginning of Game Five. The big issue now is earning a split in Orlando, at best.

It is a taller task than you would expect considering the Magic have the best match-ups against Cleveland, however, if Dwight Howard disappears on the offensive end again, it may not be as bad as it is perceived.