These are my three favorite Sonics memories:
1. In 2002, during a home game, Gary Payton twisted his knee at an
obscene angle. As he, screaming in pain, was carried back to the locker
room, I wept, thinking that his career might be over. But a moment
later, miraculously healed, Payton came running back onto the court.
The home crowd exalted. We genuflected. We spoke in tongues.
2. In 2005, in the last seconds of the sixth game of a surprisingly
competitive playoff series with the San Antonio Spurs, Ray Allen
launched a jumper from the corner that could have won the game and sent
the series back to Texas for a seventh and deciding game. As that shot
hung in the air, suspended between the corporeal and mystic, I believed
that my beloved Sonics were going to vanquish the evil Spurs. Allen
missed the shot, but I will always carry with me the gorgeous hope of
that moment.
3. In 2000, when my late father was still healthy enough to travel,
I flew him over for a game against the Lakers. As my father sat beside
me in row 14, he smiled and said, “These are great seats.” In
Alexie-speak, that meant, “I love you, Son.” 