I think my childhood was officially over after game 7. Oh I cried like a baby. For those that weren't old enough to know, we had a legitimate chance that year. Jordan was gone, we actually got some breaks, and we had a 3-2 lead even though OJ Simpson made sure that nobody saw the ending of Game 5 and Patrick's NBA record for blocks. Then there was game 6. Oh was I so excited. I just knew that we were going to be taking that game and I could rub it in all the Jordan polejockers faces. If it were not for a blown call in the 2nd quarter where Ewing was called for a non-existent offensive goal tending, I might not be typing this. Despite my favorite player of all time having the best 4th quarter in a finals game I've seen, Riles had to call A pick and Roll with Patrick setting the screen. Thus the block that has forever remained stained as a background photo of my life, and the reason for my handle on here. Game 7 just broke my heart and seriously ruined my summer. The next year with the blown finger roll didn't help either. SO here's to game 6
Oh how those games have shaped my life.