And just like that, it’s over.

I’ve been mysteriously silent on the plights of the Indiana Pacers this season. And rightfully so. They had a horrible season.

Yes, making the playoffs and taking a 3rd seeded team to six games is horrible. It was horrible because it was so disappointing. Sure, they had injury and personnel problems.
But that’s no excuse. Not for me. This team could have done something special.

From the start of the season, I should have known the Pacers were doomed. The Sports Illustrated cover jinx struck again. Both Larry Bird and Ron Artest stood together on the front of this season’s NBA Preview issue. They were buddies. They were ready to put “The Season of the Fight” behind them, move forward, become contenders. They were selected as the #2 team in the East, behind only the Pistons. They were groomed to be great – a deep bench, the best defensive player in the game, and a perennial MVP candidate.

Instead, Ron Artest flipped. Again. He asked to be traded. And the Pacers obliged, but not before making him sit at home for the rest of his time as a Pacer. In fact, until the trade deadline, the Pacers played without their second best player. With nothing to substitute for the loss.

When Artest finally was traded, the Pacers were already in trouble. They were below .500, and they were slipping out of playoff contention. The arrival of Peja seemed like the answer, and he was very good for a while. But then he injured his knee. And then Jermaine O’Neal spent some time with injuries. Same with Jamaal Tinsley.

The Pacers ended up with a record of 42-40 – good enough to face the Nets in the playoffs. And the Nets beat them, even after the Pacers took a 2-1 lead in the series. This is the second straight year the Pacers went up 2-1 against a superior opponent (they did it last year against the Pistons) and both times they finished the season with three straight losses.

I hate to say it, but I’m feeling some severe disappointment from all of this. It’s just a game, yes, and I knew my team wouldn’t have made it much further than the second round. But the end of the season for my favorite team in my favorite sport is always a time of mourning. Of lost opportunities, and the curse of bad luck. Of knowing there is nothing left to look forward to on the sports landscape until basketball starts again next year.

Someday, I’ll see the Pacers get their act together. They’ll put together a season free of injury. Anthony Johnson will explode for the entire year, as he did against the Nets, and Jamaal Tinsley will never curse our team with his constant injuries. Jermaine will have another MVP-type season. Peja will regain his range, if he even re-signs. Some day, I’ll be watching the Pacers in the Finals, and this time they won’t be playing the dual headed behemoth of Kobe and Shaq.

Some day. I swear.

-

A quick note – the Phoenix Suns, who were down 3-1 and seemed dead after the dagger-that-was-Kobe’s-amazing-shot, are back. And they’re back at home. And the Lakers, who everyone tried to call the greatest team since the Jordan Bulls, will be exposed as a one-man team with some role-players that got real hot.

I’m excited for this. I’ve become a big fan of Kobe’s – he changed my entire view of him with his unselfish (at times) play and killer instinct. But I don’t like how the media has latched onto the Lakers, the idea of a L.A. Clippers/L.A. Lakers second round match up and the perceived fact that the Phoenix Suns are done. Gone. Take away Nash’s MVP, and give it to Kobe Bryant. I hate that.

But the fact that this will end up going to a seventh game, this weekend, on national television, makes it all worth it. If the Lakers beat the Suns – whose post presence is on the bench wearing a couple of suits – they’ll certainly be trounced in the next round. But if the Suns win, I think they can match up well against the Clippers, and then (hopefully) we’ll get a Mavericks/Phoenix Western Conference Finals.

Now, if only we could get a Cavs/Nets Eastern Conference Finals, the league would be revitalized by two great match ups and lots of run and gun fun.

Anyway, go Phoenix. With the Pacers out, I’ve got no one else to root for.

Well, even if the Pacers are without Jermaine O’Neal for another seven weeks, and even if they are only barely holding onto the sixth seed in the East with a 23-22 record, at least I know they can beat the best team in the league.

Indiana Pacers: 93, Detroit Pistons: 85.

How did it happen? The Pacers were outshot (only 38% from the field, including horrible games from Peja [3-14], Anthony Johnson [3-12] and Stephen Jackson [8-22]) and went to the line less (14 attempts, as compared to the Pistons’ 22). They had only four blocks and two steals as a team (the Pistons blocked nine shots and stole five balls), and had only one starter in double figures — Steven Jackson, while the Pistons had the entire starting lineup, save Ben Wallace and his zero points.

Here’s the only stat they won: offensive rebounds. Indiana had 25 attempts at a second shot, while the Pistons only grabbed 12 offensive boards.

Oh well, I don’t care what the Pacers’ record is, just as long as they beat the Pistons.

Here’s my train of thought over the last couple days regarding this new Ron Artest trade:

“Oh man, Artest is finally gone? Awesome… wait… for PEJA Stojakovic? Are you kidding? SUPER Awesome!”

Then, minutes later…

“You’ve got to be kidding me! Artest doesn’t want to go to Sacto, so he’s nixed the trade? Where does he get the power to do something like that! Artest, I HATE YOU!!” (beginning to resign self to the idea of an Olowokandi trade)

Later that night…

“The trade is on again? I’m not holding my breath, I’ll tell you that for sure. I’ve been burned on this before. I guess it would be nice… wait… if this trade were for real, then what’s wrong with Peja? Hmm, now I’m scared.”

And finally, this morning…

(hums to self) “Peja Stojakovic: Indiana Pacer. I like the sound of that.”

Yes, the trade went through. Seriously, this time. After a day and a half of “on again off again” trade talks, a closed door meeting between Pacers owner Donnie Walsh and Ron Artest was issued from management (which I suspect went something like this):

RA: I don’t want to go to Sacramento.

DW: Um, you do realize that by refusing to go to the Kings, you’ve just made yourself look like a primadonna, created an even bigger stigma (if that’s even possible) around your personality, and forced every other team that was at one point considering a trade with us to rethink their strategy and ask for more in return. Thanks, Ron. Now, you’re going to go to Sacramento, and you’re going to have a change of heart and enjoy yourself, or I’m going to turn this trade around and send you to the Rockford Lightning in return for Roger Powell.

RA: Oh. I love Sacramento

Damn right you do, Ron. And we love Peja.

Now, I know there are some pros and cons to this deal. Indiana is getting an older player, a player that’s been injured off and on for the past few seasons, is shooting worse than he ever has in his career, and is a unrestricted free agent that will ask for the highest possible amount at the end of this year. Additionally, Indiana loses one of, if not the, best defensive player in the game, a shooter that is able to create for himself and score from wherever (as opposed to the Reggie Miller-esque outside-only threat that Peja brings) and a man that was the emotional leader for a team that feeds off of a passion for the game.

Still, it wasn’t that long ago that Peja was considered an MVP candidate. It wasn’t that long ago that the Pacers won a lot of games by having a great inside forward/center and a great outside threat. It wasn’t that long ago that everyone was talking about O’Neal for Peja, or a combo of Artest and filler for Peja, and people agreed that the Pacers would have been getting the best of the deal.

Of course, it also wasn’t that long ago that Artest jumped into the stands and sparked The Malice at the Palace. It wasn’t that long ago that he wanted time off to promote an album – in the middle of a season. It wasn’t that long ago that he decided, inexplicably, that he wanted to be the top option on his team and decided he wanted out of Indiana, a team with championship hopes.

Sure, Stojakovic is not the player he was a few years ago. But this is a perfect chance for the Pacers to see what they’re getting: they’ve got the rest of the year to fit Peja into the system, and then they’ve got the option to sign and trade (because a lot of teams will want him for his shooting touch alone) or, if he lives up to his former self, they can re-sign him now that they have the rights to offer him the biggest contract regardless of cap room.

It’s win-win. The Pacers get rid of a problem, and they get a much-needed shooter. The Kings get the problem, but they’ve had problems in the past and they do a good job in breaking them. This current Sacramento Kings team is a far cry from the team that was one quarter from the NBA Finals a few years ago – this team is now hard-nosed and defensive instead of run-and-gun. Both teams got pieces that they need, and the Pacers are rid of the man that cost Reggie Miller one final chance at the NBA Finals, a deed that I’ve never forgiven Artest for.

If only this trade would have happened before our trip to Minneapolis to see the Pacers at the Target Center. They might have actually pulled off a win.

Good luck to the Kings. They’ll need it.

I was working on my “What I’ve Been Reading” Best of 2005 list, but I just couldn’t stay quiet about this any longer.

Ron Artest. You want to be traded? Good. Go Away.

I’ll never claim to be an impartial basketball fan – I’ll always sway towards the Indiana Pacers, just like Eric will always sway towards the Minnesota Timberwolves and Kerrie will sway towards the Phoenix Suns. It’s part of being a fan.

So it’s not a surprise that when someone decides to turn their back on my favorite team, I prepare to bid them adieu.

Which is exactly what Ron Artest is doing. I’m not surprised; I’ve been waiting for this for months.

From ESPN.com:

“I still think my past haunts me here,” Artest told the Star. “I think somewhere else I’m starting fresh. I’m coming in with baggage but people already know about it and how I’m going to be. Either they’re going to be for me or they’re not going to trade for me. Here I think my past haunts me.

Please. Artest needs to cut the martyr act. He wants out, but he doesn’t want to look like the bad guy. He wants to be the top dog on a team, and he’ll never make it that high playing alongside Jermaine O’Neal. He’s trying to force his way off the team by acting like the scapegoat, the victim, the tortured soul that only wants his team to be successful.

Ron? You are the best defensive player in the league. You are leading the league in steals. You’re averaging nearly 20 points per game. Many of the basketball media consider you the best two-way player in the league. You’re on a perennial contender, one of the top four teams in the league. Why do you think the Pacers would be better off with you?

Additionally, your team stood by you last year when you went crazy and got yourself kicked out of the league for 72 games. They rallied around your cause and managed to take the Pistons to a sixth game in the second round despite missing the reining Defensive Player of the Year due to suspensions and half of the rest of the team due to injuries. Your actions, in my opinion, single handedly cost the Pacers their shot at the NBA Championship. They cost Reggie Miller his last shot at the title. To think that the team still accepts you into the fold is mind-boggling.

ESPN.com

“I think I cause a lot of problems here,” Artest told the Star in a one-on-one interview Saturday; the story first appeared on the newspaper’s Web site. “If the trade rumors, if there is any truth — maybe it won’t be a bad thing. They probably could win more games without me.”

Oh? The trade rumors? You mean, you asked for a trade, and now you’re saying that they’re all rumors? Come on.

The Pacers, truthfully, don’t need Artest. They could trade him nearly anywhere for less than what he’s worth and lose the distraction, the head-case, the instigator, and the time-bomb of their team all at the same time. Pacers CEO Donnie Walsh has already said he’s shopping Artest around. Good. Artest just asked for a trade, and Donnie will oblige.

Do you think Walsh or GM Larry Bird will send Artest to a good team? No. Don’t kid yourself. He’s not going to send a player that good to a team that will contend against the Pacers anytime soon. They’ll trade him to the Hawks and get Al Harrington back. Or to the Raptors for Mike James and picks. Or to the Knicks for Quentin Richardson and Malik Rose.

I say send him where he belongs – the Portland ‘Jail’blazers. Send back Darius Miles, or one of those three point guards that are always injured. Hell, just send a future draft pick – the Pacers will be fine with Greg Oden or OJ Mayo down the line.

Regardless, just send him anywhere. He’s worn out his welcome in Indiana. Maybe he can be someone else’s problem.

That’s the only way he’ll ever stop being a problem to the Pacers.

I’ve only got five more days to wait until the NBA season opens. The Pacers look good – like, I mean, championship good. I’m very excited. I’ve reached a new level of “Pacers fan” – the level where every year looks like a championship year, even if they had lost all of their players and moved to Vancouver.

My love for the Indiana Pacers – the team that will forever be vilified by the actions of a few players on November 19th, 2004 – stated after a brief reintroduction to professional sports. For a time – roughly three years – I stopped following sports all together. I’m not sure what it was; most likely it came from an ill-conceived notion that it wasn’t “punk” to like organized sports and that if I was ever going to fit the image I was desperately trying to acquire, I’d better stop watching grow men throwing balls around.

First though, a little background is needed. I grew up a Bulls fan, and like many impressionable youth in the late 80s/early 90s I came to view Michael Jordan as the torchbearer for all professional sports. The Chicago Bulls were the first team I ever felt a connection with – the first team I had a personal interest in. They were the first team that I had followed closely, and they were the first team that won a championship while I was a fan.

My first glimpses of being a professional basketball fan came while watching the Bulls make the leap from “really good team” to “great team.” I remember thinking they were outmatched when they played the Lakers in the 1991 Finals, and I remember watching them win the championship after they went ahead and outmatched the Lakers themselves. I went Bulls crazy – buying hats, videos, and basketball cards until they overflowed the cardboard boxes and spilled onto the floor in my closet. My prized possession was the Beckett Basketball Monthly – issue #14, September 1991 – with Michael Jordan kissing the long awaited O’Brien Trophy after winning the NBA Finals.

I learned about teamwork, sportsmanship, and leadership: not from school, but from Michael Jordan and his teammates. I learned that I appreciated the workhorses – the oft forgotten players that made their fair share of big plays without any notice. I started calling Horace Grant my favorite player, and started wearing 54 as my jersey number. I believed, and I still do, that basketball is, above all, the greatest sport ever created. Some people go crazy for NFL training camp, or the MLB’s summer league. I don’t. Instead, I watch the NBA draft. I run a fictional basketball team based on the 1997 NBA season.

I like basketball. A lot.

I think of being a sports fan now and I wonder what the allure is. What is it that locks us in as fans when we are young? What is it that makes us cheer (or jeer) a certain group of guys that we have no connection with or control over? Sports do crazy things to people. We form allegiances based on arbitrary things. Some choose their teams based on where they live or which games they see on television more. Others choose teams based on their childhood memories.

I chose my team because I didn’t like Shaquille O’Neal.

I’m getting ahead of myself. As I said, I didn’t watch sports for a long time. I had no reason to – I hadn’t followed it for years and I had forgotten everything that had happened. This coincided with Michael Jordan’s first retirement. He went off to play baseball, and I went off to pursue whatever freshman-age high school kids do. Professional basketball and I didn’t meet up again until 1995.

1995 was the year that I came back, just as Jordan came back halfway through the season (after failing miserably at baseball). It was also the year that Shaquille O’Neal broke onto the scene as a legitimate superstar. He had already been Rookie of the Year, and he had already become a three-time all star. This was the year, however, that the Orlando Magic made the NBA Finals. Shaquille O’Neal, the future of the game and the most important big man of the era, was getting ready to shine on the biggest stage in basketball.

I hated him. He was oafish, and he was crass, and his rookie card (which I had in my collection) wasn’t worth as much as I had hoped it would be. I was just getting back into sports and I didn’t want to revert back to being a Bulls fan – that was too easy. I wanted a team that was good, but not yet good enough to be idolized, like the Dallas Cowboys or New York Yankees. Just like I followed Horace Grant because he wasn’t the biggest star but was still a quality All-Star caliber player, I wanted to follow a team that wasn’t going to make the playoffs a cakewalk every year. I didn’t want an easy answer.

The Orlando Magic, with O’Neal, were playing the Indiana Pacers during the Eastern Conference Finals. I decided then and there that the Pacers were going to be my team. The fact that I had always liked Reggie Miller sealed it for me.

I had just become a fan of the most frustrating basketball team of all time.

Truthfully, though, that comes across as a bit of hyperbole; everyone has a claim to his or her team being the most frustrating team of all time. Everyone can bring up times when their team had broken the hearts of every loyal fan. Ask any Minnesota fan about that. Bring up the Vikings or Timberwolves, and see what they say.

The Pacers tormented me for a few years with the almost yearly decline come playoff time. They would almost make it, and then be bounced out by the Knicks, or the Bulls, and I would sit unfulfilled, waiting for the next season to start, not caring about who was in the Finals because it sure as hell wasn’t the Pacers. This went on for a few years, and I was beginning to regret my choice of team. My mind was wandering while watching Pacers games, searching around for a better choice. I felt guilty about shopping my loyalty around, but what had the Pacers done for me lately?

In this way I understand what some sports fans feel when their team underachieves year after year. Some fans will thrive in the one-sided relationship between a fan and his or her team. Boston Red Sox fans, up until last year, lived through excruciating horror every time they faced the Yankees. Their team let them down time and time again, and until last year they took every punch. They looked a broken and beaten team straight in the eye and said, “I still love you, Red Sox. I don’t care how much you torment me every year – I still love you.”

If you think that’s going a little over the top, then you’ve never met a true Red Sox fan. Ask Bill Simmons about it.

Finally in 2000, the unthinkable happened – the Pacers made the NBA Finals. This one moment in Pacers history turned me from “casual” fan into “full out raging moron” fan. It was All Pacers, All The Time. I started loving the game again. I started loving the team, finally. Even though the Pacers lost that Finals appearance, to Shaquille O’Neal’s Lakers, the fact that I had become a true Pacers fan still remained.

I’ve studied up on Pacers history enough to know certain moments well enough to have been there. I know I didn’t watch the game, but I remember vividly Reggie Miller’s 7 points in 8 seconds to beat the Knicks in the 1995 playoffs. I remember vividly John Starks head butting Reggie Miller at the end of a close game the year before. I feel as if I’ve been a Pacers fan for a longer time than is actually possible, stretching back to when I was a Bulls fan.

I feel a connection, regardless of how real, with these players; the team, the uniform, the history, the coach – they’re all part of my circle. Some people get caught up in certain television shows. I, instead, get caught up in a professional sports team. I don’t have any excuses for it – in fact, I know deep in my heart that it’s a one-way relationship. I devote my sports-based attention towards the Pacers without any promise of success in return. I give my time, energy, and words over to a team that doesn’t even know I exist. This is the hardest part of being a fan: the nameless, faceless quality we take on in order to be accepted in the fold.

Still, I’ll forever root for this team. I’ll stand behind them when they lose all of their stars and miss the playoffs. I’ll cheer for them even when they stab me in the back with a horrible Game 7 loss. I’ll buy all of the merchandise the day they finally win a championship.

When that day comes, it will feel a little bit less one-sided. I’ll be rewarded for my years of loyalty with an NBA Championship. A Championship that, though I in no way helped win it, I will happily rub in the face of all of my friends.

That will make it worth the long wait.

The Pacers have new uniforms.

This isn’t a big deal, actually, but it’s going to take some getting used to. I was always a huge fan of the pinstripes, shown below:

But now, they’ve lost their stripes and have gone for the ultra modern style that a lot of the most recent uniform changes have adopted. The new ones look like this:

So, my feelings are a little mixed. I miss the pinstripes, but I like the new uniforms.

Wait, am I posting about basketball uniforms?

I’m hopeless.

And to prove that, I’ll leave you with the 1980’s Pacers uniform.