we back in this bitch and back on our shit
A little late, but you didn't think I wasn't going to write about this, did you? So I don't forget. So we don't forget.
Of course there were Lynx fans in front of us. Perfectly nice people despite me passive-aggressiving all over them, but I sit in a section close to the Liberty bench and I keep expecting other people to consider sitting near their own bench when they travel.
When the shots were short and flat early... when the passing was sloppy and Napheesa Collier was playing like a woman possessed...it was such a strong feeling of "oh, no, here it goes again, should have known, should have known again". Game 4 against Las Vegas all over again. 2016 against Phoenix all over again. Nikki Teasley all over again. The inverse of the Charlotte miracle all over again. New York ain't for everybody, and in that first half it looked like it wasn't for the Liberty.
But I forgot the one thing that's been consistent through this entire heavyweight title fight of a series, the one common thread. It wasn't about the first punch in any of these games. Every single time, it was about the finishing kick. And at the end of the first half, Leonie said, "Nein." And Jonquel said, "NOT AGAIN." And Breanna was there for the rebounds.
Sabrina's shot in Game 3 is the most important shot in Liberty history now. Ruocco's statement, hyperbolic at the time, has been vindicated. But... mirrors. The most iconic shot in Liberty history came from a player who was never a shooter. The most important shot in Liberty history came from a player who is known as a shooter... but the performance that won her, won them, won us, a championship, was a master class in finding the right person at the right time, and in using every inch of her frame horizontally and vertically on defense. Sabrina played probably the most T-Spoon game of her life.
Courtney Williams will probably hate me for quoting her in this place, at this time. But it's as true for the 2024 Liberty as it was the 2019 Sun: role players did that. The golden children who were supposed to lead us to the promised land couldn't hit water falling out of a boat- so they became role players in their way. Everyone forgot about Jonquel (including, sometimes, Sandy), but she powered through exactly when we needed her. But the biggest moments? The key pivots? Role players did that. Spare parts in multi-team trades did that. The second post off the bench did that.
*sigh* yes, we will get this out of the way, because I strive to be honest where and when I can: the "REF YOU SUCK!" chant while Alanna Smith was lying on the floor once again trying to remember how her spine worked was completely unnecessary. That was a foul on Jonquel. Thank you to whoever in the crowd pivoted it to "WE ALL WE GOT/WE ALL WE NEED". I cannot speak on the final call in regulation, because I didn't have a good angle to see it. But refs in this league have always lagged well behind the skill, speed, and strength of the players. They've never been consistent and they've always been weak to pressure from the last person to yell at them. If you're in a position where you think you lost because of a call at the end of the game, there were other problems that were within your control to fix and you should have fixed them.
Here is what I remember of the end of game: how clutch it was that Kayla had the ball when Minnesota had the foul to give, because she was in a position where either Carleton was going to foul out or Collier was going to foul out. And it was Collier who took the foul. I don't think Minnesota believed it. I don't think she believed it. And then the turnover. Leonie getting the steal. Time ticking away. Oh my God. They're not fouling. They're not- Buzzer. OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD! Incoherent screaming. 27 years. 27 fucking years. Hugging, high-fiving. Calling my mom down in Carolina to try and get a video chat going so she could join in. Finding the friends we've known for years, for decades. Hugging. High-fiving. Kissing. Calling my mom again and just screaming over and over again, "WE DID IT! WE DID IT!" at the top of my lungs, all lessons about projection and diaphragm usage forgotten.
The players starting the MVP chant for Jonquel, who deserves the world. How stunned she looked to get that award, because the blocking sure looked like stats be damned, they were gonna feed the narrative and give it to Breanna. One hand on MVP trophy, one hand on championship trophy.
The fans starting the "SA-BA-LLY" chant for Nyara. Oh my God. This is a city about the hustle and the grind. You put in the work and we don't care who you are, you belong. And Nyara should have gotten game ball. Really, Nyara should get whatever she wants and if she has to buy a drink in this town ever again, what are we even doing here? For her to come back from the injuries that she has, for her to be put on the spot and rise to this occasion... it's just so much. Everything is so much right now. She rose to the occasion, and her name thundered through the Barclays Center at the end of the night. Nobody else really got that. Even the MVP chants for Jonquel weren't as loud or as strong.
27 years. There's going to be a post about that, too, about all we were then and all we are now. It's a series of jump cuts, crossing 27 years, 28 seasons, however you want to do the math. There's a lot of heartbreak in those years. There are a lot of good memories, a lot of bad memories. We've fallen down the mountain more than anyone else, and it's good, it's so good to finally be on the mountaintop. It's glorious. It's surreal. It's everything.
In conclusion I love everyone in this bar.
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