Walt the Streak Killer

I'll admit that I'm not the biggest Grizzly fan in the city, but I do keep track of wins, losses and playoff seeding.  So I knew that going into tonight's game they were riding a conference leading seven game winning streak and they were creeping up on the Clippers for the fifth spot in the conference playoff seeding.  I also knew, in the sports superstition section of my mind, that the quickest way to end that streak was to attend tonight's game . . . with Walt . . . and leave before the game was over.  So, what did Walt and I do?  We attended tonight's game and left early.

Not that it mattered much, because Walty and I had a seriously good time, but you hate to be the cause of the Grizz's first loss in eight games.  OK, maybe it was Seattle's remarkable three point shooting percentage or Memphis' poor defense late in the game, but I can't help but remember how I was raised.  You don't leave sporting events early.  I knew this going in, but I just couldn't help but think that Walt would enjoy the noise, the people and the spectacle that is an NBA game now that he is more than a bald, squirmy lump.  (See "The Littlest Fan", March 1, 2005.)

He did.

Thanks to our friend David and his almost two year-old son Will, we had court side suite tickets for the game.  Will's mommy also had a prior engagement so David and I both drew baby duty tonight.  Being risk takers, we thought it would be fun to see what would happen if we kept Will and Walt up two hours past their bedtime.  I was skeptical, but I'm always up for a challenge.  Ginger gave her blessing.  (Or at least she said something like, "It's your funeral.")  So off we went.

Will spent a good portion of the game in the coat closet.  Walt took that opportunity to pillage his stash of goldfish crackers.  Walt also polished off Will's sippy cup of water.  These things don't seem to be as much of an issue when mommies aren't around.  "What does a runny nose have to do with him being able to drink Will's water?" I asked after recounting the evening to Ginger. 

I'm proud to say that there were no meltdowns, no blood and no new bruises.  I'm not as certain about the transfer of viruses from shared sippy cups or from eating goldfish crackers off sports arena floors. 

I am certain that I had a great time watching Walt watch everything and clap when everyone else did, and I occasionally got to see Pau Gasol score some of his franchise record forty-four points.  We didn't see it all, but Walt seemed to have a good time.  And he was still smiling at 9:15 when I put him in his bed at about the same time the Griz were losing by one point on a last second shot.  I don't think I missed a thing.