Aloha, fellow Cavalier-Americans! I’m an Optimist, and why shouldn’t I be?
First of all – don’t panic.
We don’t have to play a Game 8 against the Warriors or anything like that. The Wine and Gold smote the 73-win Dubs back in late June, and smote ‘em good. The Curse is over, the Cavaliers are World Champs and everything is right in the world! We had a parade this summer and everything.
Along with the Lake Erie Monsters capturing the Calder Cup and our first-place Indians closing in on the AL Central crown, the Cleveland Sports Renaissance™ has officially commenced.
What a wonderful time to be alive! Titles all around!!
The last time you readers and I broke bread, I was explaining exactly why I was so grateful that our beloved Cavaliers had fallen into a 3-1 deficit in the 2016 Finals – my thesis being that instead of winning one NBA Championship, that taking Games 5, 6 and 7 would be like winning THREE NBA Championships!
And that’s exactly what the Wine and Gold did – led by the historic, herculean effort of the one we call “TheBron” – dropping back-to-back 41-point performances to set the Warriors up and a tasty triple-double to knock ‘em down.
From the moment he drilled a baseline fadeaway against the Sacramento Kings during his first moments as a pro back in 2003 to his storied chase-down swat on Andre Iguodala in Game 7, I have believed that Numeral 23 will eventually retire as the greatest basketball player of all-times. And my opinion on the matter remains unchanged.
But TheBron didn’t do it alone. Far from it.
Kyrie Irving – who also notched 41 points in the penultimate contest in Oakland – continued to prove why he’s one of the best clutch players in the Association, dotting the MVP’s eye for the game-winner and title-clincher. Kevin Love, who’s had his perimeter defense questioned in the past, locked down the aforementioned MVP on an island in Game 7’s closing moments – the greatest single stop in the 46-year history of the franchise.
The list goes on and on – from Tyronn Lue’s steady coaching hand to J.R.’s heroics on both ends to Channing Frye’s long-range precision. Everyone who suited up for Cleveland last season contributed to the cause. And whether they returned to the Wine and Gold to defend the throne this year or not, they’ll always hold a distinguished place in Cavaliers lore.
Winning the NBA crown took 13 years later than I had originally predicted, and it certainly didn’t come at the conclusion of an 82-0 regular season. T-Lue’s team matched every drop of champagne spilt in the Oracle Arena locker room with its own blood, sweat and tears. Now, the Cavaliers and the entire city of Cleveland can call themselves Champions. And that can never be taken away.
Over the years, fans and well-wishers have asked me: ‘Optimist, what will you do when the Cavaliers actually do win the NBA Championship?’
And I’ve never been able to provide a straight answer.
My natural tendency would be to pull the old “Irish Goodbye” (aka “the Houdini” aka “the French Exit”) – a technique which, over the years, I have perfected into an art form.
For those of you unfamiliar with those terms – the Irish Goodbye, for example, is essentially the process of leaving a party or social gathering without saying farewell. One minute you’re there, the next minute – poof! – you’re out! No hugs. No handshakes. Nada.
When executed properly, the Irish Goodbye can be a thing of absolute beauty, especially at the highest level. (See: Duncan, Tim)
But in terms of this column, I respect you readers far too much to pull that kind of nincompoopery.
So today, I’m writing to announce that this upcoming 2016-17 season will mark my official NBA Farewell Tour. And I’d like to announce it before the start of Training Camp, not wanting to overshadow the start of the season or distract the team with the blinding media coverage that’s bound to follow an event of this magnitude.
Some of you might be wondering if I’ll still be able to optimize – both passionately and accurately – with a clear head this year. After all, there’s the old Bill Parcells line which says: ‘Once you start talking retirement, you’ve already retired.’
I call B.S. on that! What the hell does Bill Parcells know about sports anyway?!
Oh, I can just imagine the treasures, trinkets and baubles that cities and franchises will lavish upon me when the Cavaliers roll into town: their finest oils and richest tapestries. I hope someone gives me some frankincense. That’d be pretty sweet.
Ooooh! And I can’t wait to see what Barry O gives me in November when the Cavaliers visit the White House!
Of course, I realize that it won’t be all fun and games out there.
That’s why my beloved boss, Tad Carper, has agreed to let me travel with my own security detail – just like some of the higher profile members of the squad.
Frequent readers of this column know that this vital role is filled by fellow Garbage Heights Bulldog, current Cavaliers security officer and true knuckle-dragger: Joe Vitanza.
Joe V – (pictured above with UFC heavyweight champ, Stipe Miocic, who sometimes trains using him as a heavy-bag) – is a genuine Neanderthal whose head is literally packed with ground meat, but there’s no one else I’d rather entrust with my safety. And I would say – exspecially in light of my recent announcement – that more than in previous years, I’ll be running for my life when hordes of foxy young women start chasing me down the street.
Fortunately, I’ve seen firsthand how frightening Joe V can be to pretty girls (and most small children), so I’m totally confident headed into my final NBA campaign on the road.
This season, I’m also hoping to dust off the old E-Master 8400™ e-mailing machine and to clean out the Optimist Mailbox – giving prizes to readers who send in the best questions. The prizes won’t be as good as the oversized cheese wheel I expect to get in Milwaukee or the key to Manhattan that Mayor Bill de Blasio will probably hook me up with, but they’ll still be pretty mint.
And although I’m a sucker for nostalgia, I’d sure love to hear from some new readers instead of the veritable sausage party from the past that includes the likes of Pat Burke, Bri-Guy, Morgenstern, Victor from Brecksville, (Dark Meat) Mark Price, Brother D, Reuben from Horseheads, New York, Dustin from NiceBeaverton, Oregon, competitive eating legend Coondog O’Karma, my one-time nemesis – Optimist Prime, and of course, the capo di tutti capi of correspondents – Bort Stein Esq., currently holed up in the remote province of Mooseknuckle, Saskatchewan.
I’ll worry about what I’ll do after the Cavaliers repeat and take their second straight World Championship in June. But that’s a long way from yon to hither.
In the meantime, NBA cities can feel free to start showering me with gifts!
(And I won’t be upset if you go the straight route and get me a nice rocking chair. I used to like sitting in a rocking chair even when I was a young man – so that’ll work out perfectly!)
The Tribe is driving towards the postseason and a potential trip to the World Series. The stars are aligning for an historic matchup with the Cubs, who picked the wrong season to end their misery. For, like the Golden State Warriors and the Hershey Bears before them, the Cubbies – (or any other NL foe) – will be trampled underfoot by the Tribe, riding the crest of the unstoppable Cleveland Sports Renaissance.
I’ll see y’uns at Cavaliers Training Camp in a few days. I can’t wait to watch the Wine and Gold defend their title this year.
For 13 seasons, you’ve girded good and proper. But summer’s over, and now it’s time, once again, to …
Keep the faith, Cleveland
Su hermano,
The Optimist