Washington Wizards: The Day The District Stood Still

Love hurts…
But sometimes it’s a good hurt
And it feels like I’m alive.
Love sings,
When it transcends the bad things.
Have a heart and try me,
’cause without love I won’t survive.

-Love Hurts by Incubus

The sports business is one of the most unique fields in the world’s economy.

The industry makes billions of dollars from a variety of avenues and it’s conceptually based on the idea of grown men and women participating in activities meant for kids to use some of their boundless energy in a productive fashion.

We as fans take the idea of sports to a whole another level. We battle one other to debate the merits of Player A vs. Player B. We agonize over losses and cheer wins as if we ourselves laced ‘em up that day.

Our emotions, for better or worse, are tied to the successes and failures of million dollar athletes who only understand a fraction of what their performances mean to the greater population.

Here in Washington DC, to say we’ve grown accustomed to disappointment would be an understatement.

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That would imply there was some gradual process descending from any sort of lengthy period of prosperity.

Here in the Most Powerful City in the Free World, we wilt under the slightest pressure and look to next year before this one even wraps up.

This year though, was going to be different.

The tides had changed and the light at the end of the tunnel shone bright as ever. May 13th, 2015 was going to be the day that DC removed itself from any list of tortured sports cities and onto one that was reserved for the up and comers.

Then the 14 minutes between 10:37 pm and 10:51 pm EST happened. And the love hurt the most it ever has. Here’s what transpired:

Four teams. Four cities. Four wins.

That was the plan, at least.

From Phoenix, to New York, to Atlanta, to DC, Washington’s relevant professional franchises (by wins, not market value) were all in action on what promised to be a riveting day and was positioned to be a glorious one.

While the Nationals and United are still in early season action and their games carry minor implications, both the Washington Capitals and the Washington Wizards were/are in the thick of the playoffs with a trip to the Eastern Conference finals on the line for both franchises.

Still, it was poetic to consider the idea that all four teams could compete on the same day, and that their success was in some way linked. After all, those who have any familiarity with DC sports understand how the landscape of everyone not named the Redskins feels intertwined, almost as a collective little brother.

As Washingtonians, we’ve seen, heard, and lived this story before.

Our teams rise to heights only so the fall to the ground can be that much more steep and swift. We develop franchise stars that accumulate major personal or professional baggage and end up weighing down otherwise historic careers. And we watch as each management and coaching decision turns out poorer than the previous one.

Yet, for whatever reason this wasn’t the same fairy tale gone wrong.

The Washington Capitals had been playing a different brand of hockey all year, focusing on physicality and forechecking rather than just finesse playmaking. The Washington Wizards transformed from a plodding team with no identity in the regular season into the best offense in the playoffs, shooting 3s, playing small ball and doing everything that we thought they’d never do.

The Nationals, after being crowned champions in April and struggling out of the gate, finally put it together and had the best record in the MLB over the last 15 games.

Bryce Harper went from the ‘most overrated’ to ‘most feared’ hitter in baseball between the dates of your last two paychecks. And even DC United was building strongly off a playoff run last year that ended in the conference finals.

I remember thinking to myself, when people bragged about their potentially lucrative payouts on four team DC victory parlays, that this could be the greatest night in Washington sports since the Hogs brought home their last Super Bowl trophy in 1992.

In twisted comedic fashion, the events started unfolding as if our cooked up reality was actually going to come to fruition. The Nationals came back three times vs. the Diamondbacks, culminating in a grand slam by reserve outfielder Michael Taylor in the 9th inning for a 9-6 victory.

DC United scored twice after the 70th victory for an improbable victory vs. a team allegedly known as ‘Orlando City FC’. Washington held a 9 point 4th quarter lead and the Capitals were slamming shots at Henrik Lundqvist at a rate that even he had to eventually succumb to.

Now we know what transpired and we don’t have to get into specifics. For the love of God that’s the last thing I want to do.

We don’t even need to mention the nightmares we suffered from, featuring a demigod named Henral Horfqvist that used bionic arms to swat large orange balls and black cylindrical disks with reckless abandon.

But we know what happened was everything we feared it could be but prayed it wouldn’t be.

The question we must ask ourselves now is; how do we move on? And should we even want to?

I don’t consider myself a relatively old person (just the ripe age of 26), but when I think about what Washington sports has done to my soul, I feel like it should’ve been admitted into a nursing home 10 years ago.

I grapple with the idea of ‘moving on’ from any one event, because the reality is that I’m just on the way to the next heartbreak. The Capitals were eliminated by the Rangers last night in thrilling fashion, which was yet another 2nd round playoff exit for Alex Ovechkin.

While I should take solace in the fact that the Washington Wizards are still alive, what I actually find is despair, given that I’ll most likely be feeling this way again by either Friday or Monday when the basketball team follow suit of their Verizon Center co-tenants.

This article is not meant to be about numbers or analysis. I could sit here and tell you that on a macro level, Washington DC has the 2nd lowest winning percentage amongst all 4 sport cities in America (ahead of only Minneapolis), per Washington Post.

And since 2000, not a single team in this city has been to a conference final; much less taking the podium as champion or runner up (Boston leads this category with 20 such seasons).

On a micro level I could rant about Nene and his refusal to play hard or smart for more than 3 minutes in a row. He gets paid $13M a year to show up 25% of the time, yet when he does, Washington Wizards fans feel like the Messiah has arrived.

I could reserve a special level of fury for Mike Green, a defenseman who used to be skilled at only offense (understand this wasn’t necessarily a good thing) but now is only on the ice to take dumb penalties and commit neutral zone turnovers.

But that’s the point. None of it matters, because none of it will ever change. Insanity is defined as repeating the same steps and expecting different results. In a way, that’s exactly what we’re doing. We put our hopes and dreams into one of these teams breaking through eventually and feel crushed when it doesn’t happen, almost as if we didn’t see this coming.

Maybe things change.

Maybe the Washington Wizards win the last two vs. Atlanta and ride into the sunset of the NBA’s Final Four. Maybe the Nationals make good on the preseason hype and hoist the World Series trophy. Maybe the Capitals rejuvenate in the off-season and come out looking for revenge.

Maybe it all happens, and maybe none of it does. I’m going with the latter because I’ve been here before. But you know what? Yes, this love hurts. But sometimes it’s a good hurt.

#dcRising

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