Admittedly, since the New Orleans Hornets landed Chris Paul, it’s been easy to be a fan. After being thrown into the deep West, the once-Playoff-worthy Hornets nose-dived into one of the worst years in franchise history, short as it is. But then we drafted this kid that somehow three other teams didn’t sense would be a once-in-a-generation talent. Other than one half-blind thieves’ fan (yes, Utah, you stole our team and colors and we tend not to forget things like that), Chris was the unanimous Rookie of the Year in 2005-06, and we started to believe things would be okay, even though still suffering from the aftereffects of Hurricane Katrina, and with our team still playing in Oklahoma City.
Injuries tarnished the next year, but then, back in New Orleans, the Hornets suddenly were contending with the Lakers for the top spot in the West, and Chris was contending for MVP, and, yeah, our coach won the yearly honor for turning the ship around. We believed that just as he did in Jersey, this coach would take us to the Finals. Life as a Hornets fan was easy. Two of every three games was a win. We had the All-Star Game in Nola, featuring two Hornets’ players and our coach, and Chris Paul was hailed as the Savior of Basketball in New Orleans. As fans, we honestly, honestly believed that when the media talk of Kobe, Lebron, and Wade faded in May and the dust settled, it was Chris and the Hornets that they’d be talking about in June.
Except nothing’s that easy in the chaos of the NBA, and you learn that nothing can be taken for granted; there are no guarantees. Even if you have one of the top three talents in the League. In hindsight, you begin to respect the Pistons and Pacers of old, the Lakers and Mavs now, and all the other teams who are there every year, playing late into the Second Season and legitimately fighting for Rings. For Hornets’ fans, 2008-09 was a rough one, marred again by injuries, but still, at least we were in the Playoffs, which is, of course, why our guys play the game. Even if it didn’t end like we wanted, we’d find redemption the next year.
But then a 3-7 start that even Chris Paul couldn’t save, a coach that lost his team, and then his job, and we all felt sucker-punched. We had assumed the prior year was the aberration, not our success of two years ago. Were we wrong? Did we or did we not have three career all-stars? Did we or did we not have the X-Factor of back-ups in Ringmaster, James Posey? Did we not have two promising rookies that tore up the Summer League? What was wrong with this team? The only bright spot was a sterling home record to give us our money’s worth for our ticket price purchases; but this was overshadowed by the team’s utter inability to win on the road and a porous defense. Then injuries started creeping in again, and then seats that were sold stopped being bought. Those of us, who out of habit, still look around the Arena at the start of every game to gauge the attendance, figured with the Saints’ success, there was less attention on basketball, generally, but the empty seats would be temporary, right? We’d heal up, pull ourselves into the Playoffs, football would end, and the sell-outs would ensue, right? Kind of. That was the plan before Chris got injured.
Life, generally speaking, is a creature of chaos, not bound to order or rules, no matter how hard we try to insist otherwise; the NBA is little different, and perhaps, even a hyperbole of life’s ordinary upheaval: where all the chaos is played out in front of us, to be taped, recorded, and Tivo’d for instant re-watching and slow-motion back angle reviews again and again, concomitant with the back-room deals and quiet trades that transform even the most stable teams out from under us. So, as fans, our neat little plan to back a yearly winner is subject to that beyond our control, and when our expectations collide with a harsh reality, it can take a toll on that which makes us want to be fans in the first place. But one thing I can say about this Hornets team, which may yet serve them well in the short weeks to come: they are fighters. In few games, win or lose, have they refused to fight, to give it their all. Even as they make frustrating mistakes—bad passes, errant dribbles, stupid fouls—they’re trying their hardest. On most nights, they give us the opportunity to experience a wondrous sense of vicarious agency were anything can happen. And on some nights, maybe even Amazing will happen.
That’s why I became a basketball fan. And in New Orleans, where we look-out for anything that’s ours and jealousy guard it even as we willingly share it with our friends and visitors, a paradox that escapes many transients to our City, we’re still excited about the Hornets and support them without reservation. That won’t stop anytime soon, despite all the panic-mongers who have been on the blogs and boards from our first loss telling everyone to blow the team up and start over. If you’re one of those types, then maybe you just don’t get it. Maybe you never will. And maybe you were the one walking out of a 7 point game with 4:32 to go.
It’s hard to be a fan of a bubble-team with higher expectations. But it’s still basketball. And the Hornets are our team. All the hindsight in the world can tell you what they’re doing wrong. But seeing how hard they work to make it right, makes it worth it. I’m impressed with Jeff Bower, and believe he has us moving in the right direction. We have a solid core and a respectable bench, when healthy. Our rookies are fantastic, and, of course, we have Chris Paul, who is still our Savior. Nonetheless, with all the adversity we’ve faced this year, maybe we won’t make the Playoffs. But that’s okay, because I believe that if they don’t become who we think they can be this year, they will next year. Or the next year after that. I’ll wait.
