So until this week, there’s been no real incentive to return. But this week incentive wears uniforms of gold and wine, and the Cavaliers who wear them have turned the city into what must be one huge block party.
In a city that too often draws national attention for crazy guys who imprison girls in their basement or a policeman’s shooting of a 12-year-old in a playground, the focus this week is on the efforts of an injury-decimated basketball team trying to bring home a championship to where none has resided for half a century.
Television and the Internet are showing scenes of thousands of screaming fans in a sold-out arena and even more thousands partying in downtown streets that normally are deserted. A friend who was there on Tuesday night said he drove through suburban neighborhoods at midnight and the lights in nearly every home still were on, as residents stayed up to watch the Cavs win Game 3.
It’s a party not just for basketball fanatics. On Facebook, there’s a video of the renowned Cleveland Orchestra performing Carl Orff’s rousing “Carmina Burana.” Instead of the traditional black, the orchestra and chorus members all are wearing golden Cavs T-shirts.
I’ve never had a chance to join a party like that.
In 1964, when the Browns won the Super Bowl there was a party in Cleveland, but I lived in a city 60 miles away and had to climb onto the roof of my apartment and adjust the antenna just to watch the game on television.
In 1987, the Browns played in the AFC championship game. If they won, my newspaper probably would have sent me to San Diego to cover the parties surrounding their first appearance in the Super Bowl. But Earnest Byner fumbled away the ball on the 2-yard line with 1:12 left in the game and Denver recovered, saving me the long flight to California.
In 1997, I was all set to drive to Cleveland to join a World Series celebration. But Jose Mesa, the Indians’ stellar relief pitcher, failed in the ninth inning of Game 7, Edgar Renteria drove home the winning run for the Florida Marlins in the 11th and I was spared the four-hour drive.
So there’s no guarantee that this party will end any differently.
But, while it lasts, party-on, Cleveland.
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