The Luka Pilgrimage

Eager Eagles fans, cherubic Chiefs fans, happy hookers … I saw those groupings of folks in large numbers in the Phoenix airport on the Friday before Super Bowl Sunday.

I had to change flights in Phoenix on my way from Tucson to Sacramento. In Sacramento I was planning to see Luka Doncic and the Dallas Mavericks play the Sacramento Kings in NBA matchups on Friday and Saturday nights. One of my brothers is a partial season-ticket holder for Kings games, and knowing I’m a Luka afficionado, he invited me and another of my brothers to watch the games.

That was the plan, anyway. About a week before the games, though, Doncic suffered a heel injury and had been sitting out games since. There was a good chance I would travel all that way and not see Luka play. But I already had plane tickets and other plans set, so I decided to go forward with the trip. I would get to watch a couple NBA games and visit family even if Doncic didn’t play.

Then fate, and the NBA trade deadline, intervened. Kyrie Irving, flatEarther, COVID-denier and general conspiracy theorist, decided he no longer wanted to play for the Brooklyn Nets and demanded a trade. The Nets, tired of Kyrie antics and probably knowing general nuttiness is more acceptable in the home state of Ted Cruz, Greg Abbott and Matthew McConaughey, traded Kyrie to the Dallas Mavericks.

Now I don’t like much of what Kyrie says or does off the court, but as we basketball lovers say, “The dude can straight ball.” Kyrie is an uncommonly gifted player and often a delight, and phenomenal, to watch play. So even if I didn’t get to see Luka play in person, I would get to see Kyrie play in person.

Luka did not play in Friday’s game. Kyrie did, though, and was magnificent, much to the chagrin of Kings fans sitting around us. Even fans screaming at Kyrie that he was about to dribble of the edge of planet didn’t faze Kyrie. The Mavs took it to the Kings from the start and won handily.

The next night brought good news. Luka was coming back from injury for the Saturday game. The bad news for me was I shattered a back tooth on a cough drop on the way to the game. That shredded tooth did not deter me. I was going to watch Luka play, even with a mouth like a meth addict.

For the first half of the game Luka was in top form: backing down smaller players for easy buckets, whipping passes all around the court to set up open shots, smiling, laughing and being the great showman he is.

The second half was a different story. Kyrie played magnificently, but Luka appeared to tire after a week off from the NBA rigors. He committed some costly turnovers and other than a rim-shaking, breathtaking follow-up dunk, appeared sluggish.

The Mavs lost the Saturday game in overtime. The night became even worse for me when we were walking to the car and I caught my foot on the edge of a planter box and went sprawling onto the concrete, scraping an elbow but smashing my pride.

Sunday involved watching the Super Bowl with my brothers, and Monday was consumed by returning to Tucson, which meant again changing flights in Phoenix. This time in the Phoenix airport I saw, in large numbers, evaporated Eagles fans, cheerful Chiefs fans and tired-looking hookers. The Phoenix airport was so packed with departing Super Bowl fans/hookers that the place was in chaos, and most flights were delayed throughout much of the day, including my incoming and outgoing flights.

Was it worth a broken tooth, a bad spill, four plane flights and dodging scores of high-heeled hookers to see Luka play in person?

I believe it was, dunk you very much.