I went to Game 2 last night, and you didn’t

I’ve never been to an NBA playoff game before, so when the opportunity arose to attend Game 2 of the Nuggets-Hornets series, I jumped. I have to say, getting tickets to an NBA playoff game was way easier than I’d expected. My secret? Have someone else buy them for you.

I arrived at the Pepsi Center around 7:15 for the 8:30 tipoff and started the walk in. Do you know what the arena looks like an hour-fifteen before tipoff? I don’t; apparently they don’t let you in that early. Instead, I met up with a friend of mine, his dad and his wife, and waited in line until the doors were to open, at 7:30. Or at least I thought I was going to. But then the greatest mascot in the history of professional sports showed up and started chucking things off the roof at us: mini-balls, headbands, shirts, and more.


I don’t know if it was the wind or what, but almost everything he threw seemed to go to the same spot in line, which happened to be not my spot. One headband started drifting in my general direction, and I stepped forward until I hit the guy right in front of me. Kind of annoying; you want to start boxing out people in the most aggressive way possible, but of course people would freak if you started to do that. Society sucks sometimes.

In terms of the “outside the arena before an NBA playoff game” experiences I’ve had I would have rated this Nuggets game have far behind the entertainment the Utah Jazz had set up outside of Game One of the 1998 Finals had it not been for the sudden appearance of Rocky. The Nuggets cheerleaders had been holding each other up in the air (which near the sidewalk didn’t seem too bright) and some dancers or something were really halfheartedly trying to give away T-shirts or something, which had made the wait outside a touch depressing. The Jazz, on the other hand, had like little hoops and other events, mostly for a younger crowd, but then again you also had to be in Utah, so give Denver the edge.

After Rocky had run out of cheap promotional trinkets, which go pretty quickly, we entered the Pepsi Center and made an immediate left to the main store. Earlier we’d stopped by some local businesses in an attempt to get some Nuggets shirts for the game but found pretty sad stock on hand. So we were resigned to pay more inside the arena, which turned out to be wrong. Of course the stuff was cool, but a lot of it was on sale, too, which made no sense whatsoever to me, but there you go. I got an awesome blue T-shirt with a retro Nuggets logo on it for $12. (Also, you may recall that I was somewhat sheepish at the ol’ NLCS about loading up on Rockies gear out of the blue. I have no such shame with the Nuggets. First of all I’ve owned a ton of Nuggets stuff over the years, and I bet I could have found a threadbare team T-shirt without much difficulty, but it was time to step it up. Second, I started rooting for the Nuggets in the late-90s, so anyone who wants to call me fair weather is just a freaking idiot.)

On the way out, we saw what was going on on the right side of the entrance: an autograph table seating what appeared to be several Nuggets dancers. I elected not to distract them from the night’s duties with my charm. Instead our group headed to our seats, which were basically behind the basket, though I don’t mean the row behind. The Nuggets’ offense ran towards us in the first half. As we settle in and slip on our Nuggets shirts, the blimps make their first appearance:


I hate those things. The worst part came, well, I don’t know when, but the Coors can was dropping gift cards. It dropped a whole bunch in one section. Then the complete jerk piloting it decided to make a few more rounds, floating around sort of like it would consider heading towards our seats, but the can clearly had just one giftcard left. I could literally feel the dignity leaving my body as I tracked it across the night sky. Of course, he lowered the blimp over the same spot he’d just dropped a cluster of cards over to let go of the last one.

Anyway, having skipped dinner, we decided to head out for food. I went with the pizza, which I think I’ve had before. Somehow the Pepsi Center managed to make stadium pizza look unappealing:


(If you know me, you know that was no joke.)

Pretty soon after that, the Char Hornets came out and started warming up. Of course, I almost cheered, seeing as they had blue-and-yellow warmups on. I then elected to throw away my pizza box and Sierra Mist cup, seeing as I already had a bag of Nuggets clothes under me and space was of course at a premium. I tell Jonesy I’m a dork as I head out, then really feel it when I miss the Nuggets running in. But hey, I could hear the cheering. During warmups I’m asked whether professional basketball players shouldn’t be hitting basically every shot, since there’s no defense. I call my friend’s attention to Peja Stojakovic at the far end of the court. Peja, who was one of my very favorite players a few years ago when he was a King, was predictably sinking just about everything.

Eventually, of course, there was a game to play. The first quarter, the Nuggets jumped out to a huge lead…or seemed to. Carmelo Anthony was hitting everything, and the team just kept pouring in the points. Somehow, the Hornets were getting enough garbage baskets to make it a close/tie game. Seriously, I began to worry, but I didn’t need to. First off, the boisterous drunk fellows behind me were clearly getting in Chris Paul’s head. (Oh, wait, from where we were sitting, that makes no sense. Huh.) Second, Chauncey Billups was basically in complete control of the game.
As the second quarter went on, the Nuggets started to slowly pull away. Momentum was building. Then Chauncey broke away with the ball, with about five and a half minutes left in the period, and pulled up for a quick three. He missed softly off the far side, but the Birdman—who is an absolute rockstar at the arena, and carries himself like it—grabbed the rebound, slammed it home, and swung wildly on the rim. The place went nuts. A few minutes later, during a timeout, Rocky hit one of those halfcourt shots backwards over his head to keep the crowd ablaze.

Quite frankly, though the second half was a blast to watch, there wasn’t much drama left in the game. Early in the third, Peja hit back-to-back-to-back three-pointers to start cutting down the lead, but it was the only remotely scary moment in the game. So here are some more unorganized thoughts:

Chauncey Billups is just incredible in person, and of course he’s on a heck of a hot streak. I remember watching him live during his first tour with the Nuggets, once when he drained a good 30-foot three, but hadn’t figured out yet how to maker the best use of his talent. Tonight, though, he stood in direct contrast to Chris Paul, who I probably just saw on an off night but who was remarkably less intimidating than his reputation. Basically his game was almost one-dimensional…he just drives and dishes. Chauncey will drain threes, but he’ll also post up and run all kinds of plays. Paul will drive the lane, usually pass, but sometimes shoot himself, or, in one memorable instance, he’ll make dramatic ballfakes with no one near him, then biff an open lay-up. Also, he does that hurt “I’ve just been shot” face whenever anyone touches him and that turns a crowd on him real quickly.

Carmelo was fantastic, and was named the player of the game, though I would have expected Billups to get the honor. Anthony was streaky, going a little cold in the second quarter, but he was finding the open man, too. I loved how he played tonight: he forced his offense just a little bit at times, but mostly just played into the team scheme that Billups orchestrates so brilliantly.

Chris Andersen is awesome. It’s worth mentioning again how excited everyone gets whenever he does anything.

I’ve always liked J.R. Smith’s talent, but I loved the way he bounced up immediately after taking a hard shot tonight. None of this, “Let me try to remember how to stand up” crap. And he’s a great guy to have on the floor late in a blowout because he can carry an offense for stretches; he’s one of the few backups in the league you can really say that about. The starter, Dahntay Jones, was fun to watch tonight, too.

Kenyon Martin still seems to take a few too many jumpers, but the way he makes and misses shots is just weird. Like he’ll miss a couple of 20-footers, but then he’ll make these bizarre-looking runners and you’re like, where did that come from? He’s the closest anyone on the team comes to not accepting their role, and frankly for a former No. 1 overall pick he’s doing pretty well as a complimentary guy. The team overall is just playing great.

Anyway, the final score


was wonderful for any long-suffering Nuggets fan. It’s too early to make plans for the second round, but it’s never too early to celebrate.