Time for a heartfelt story.
Who doesn’t like Saturdays?
In Indianapolis, as a kid, the negotiation went like this: if you wanted to stay the night with a friend on Saturday, you could as long as you went to Church on Sunday—any Church.
My parents moved us to the Northside, and many of the new friends I made were Jewish.
I suppose I can admit what my parents didn’t know now…
They worship on Saturday.
I’d challenge anyone to say anything different about a Saturday. Adults and children alike love a Saturday, most of the time.
But the Pacers don’t play until Sunday.
I’ve found it difficult to leave myself out of these stories. It’s irresponsible to former students and aspiring writers.
But you gotta come to Church with me.
I’m not sure I believe in Hell. Even Heaven seems unlikely.
But I believe in 49 States, it’s just basketball.
And in Indiana? What the Hali?
A YouTube guy said it best: “My kids are shooting shots like Haliburton. My wife knows who he is.”
I’ve struggled to write about my team because I don’t know what the Hali is going on. But it sure feels like Sunday. It also feels like a cheat code, like skipping the Synagoge, like hiding from God while he stares at you.
I’ll keep it real smooth so that you can sleep through Saturday.
Tyrese Haliburton is just a great Pastor. He is giving sermons with a congregation behind him.
I’m not gonna run the numbers. Ok…. A few…. 5 for 5 THIS YEAR on game-winning shots?
The ONLY reason that this is not the most shocking statistic EVER is how good his teammates have been.
I’m a huge fan. Unapologetic.
I could not tell you how Game 1 of the NBA Finals ended: any better than cheap ESPN coverage.
I might look it up. I don’t have to.
Nembhart, Neismith, Siakam, Turner, Toppin, Mathurin, McConnel, Jenny, Rick, and the rest.
My Lutheran mother eventually figured out I was skipping Church. She didn’t care if it was Methodist, Jewish, Catholic, or otherwise. She simply demanded that I take the time to reflect, respect, and appreciate life.
So one of those Saturdays, I finally went to my Jewish friend’s spot. Herb and Mel Simon were there. They own the Pacers. With grace, they let me in a lot of games. I met Reggie and sat in their suite.
And I’ve always loved Saturdays.
Not today.
Get me to Sunday, and let’s go, like we all want.
To the Church of Basketball.
God Bless my Pacers on Sunday.
