The night ‘We The North’ went south

I was transfixed by the spectacle.

Led by a 19-year-old named LeBron James, the NBA’s Cleveland Cavaliers were warming up in one end of the floor.

Vince Carter and the Toronto Raptors were loosening up in the other end.

The stadium was blocked. The Cavaliers-Raptors game had been the hottest ticket in town for months, fueled by the facts it was James’ first taste of NBA action and Carter had become basketball’s most dynamic dunker.

It may have been a pre-season match, but it was like a championship game to fans.

I was there as a photographer for a weekly paper. The assignment was to do a photo essay for the next issue. Hardly a tough gig. I LOVE shooting sports and this was my first — and only — time focusing a long lens on elite NBA athletes.

I was excited by the possibility of freezing Carter in mid-air, of catching the head-band wearing James delivering a dunk, of photographing the thrill on the faces of fans.

The tip-off at Mile One Centre in St. John’s couldn’t come soon enough.

But the Oct. 23, 2003, game never happened.

Unseasonably warm weather — 18 degrees in St. John’s in late October? — led to a lot of condensation on an arena floor that had ice as its underlay.

They tried their best to wipe it dry, even with towels, but the court remained Bon Jovi — slippery when wet.

The game was called to protect the players. (Imagine if a slip on a Newfoundland floor had ended LeBron’s career or if Vince slid hard and injured a young fan after a rim-rattling slam.)

Still, even though the decision to cancel made perfect sense, the crowd was completely rotted. They were screaming and upset, with some appearing to take it quite personal.

Veteran sports journalist, and now colleague, Robin Short — who was also covering the game — calls it the greatest disappointment in Newfoundland and Labrador sports history.

I had never been in the middle of 7,500 angry people (and haven’t since). It’s challenging to get your head around.

While professionally disappointed that Cavaliers-Raptors wasn’t going ahead, I had to remain impartial, show no emotion and not be a part of crowd. This is how journalists roll.

The assignment went from photographing a sports spectacle to shooting fan frustration.

I had to use the camera to capture what was happening around me, and that meant photos representing the mood of the crowd. Some people were bordering on rage.

As I photographed furious faces, then Raptors GM Glen Grunwald stood at centre court and promised the team would return someday for a makeup match.

That seemed to quiet a few, but there was little making up. Thousands left the building shaking their head and cursing. Most kids exited looking like it was 9:03 a.m. on Dec. 25 and their big brother had just broken the morning’s favourite toy.

The Raptors never came back. And 16 years later, as the team is now Canada’s most valuable sports franchise, they won’t be returning.

But what do you do? In these parts, we — the public and journalists —are accustomed to dealing with weather delays, disappointments, and thankfully only on occasion, disasters. We The North.