Mike

I heard the news today and immediately felt a tingling sensation fill my entire body until it felt like little needles were shooting out of my scalp. Shortness of breath ensued. Mild shock set in. Then guilt. Had I failed him?  How is it that one day we've got the world by the tail, then the next it has us by ours?

I've kept journals most of my life. Thank god because my memory is shit. But I must have some crazy filing system deep inside my brain because the first journal I grabbed I found a passage I'd written about a memorable summer I'd spent with Mike. Summer of '88. Here is that passage. And in it, the memories I will forever hold in my resilient heart. 

Dear Paul Allen,

I tested my dilemma again tonight. After giving the Blazers five games off since watching them lose to Cleveland(they won all five, as you know), I turned the game on tonight midway through the 4th quarter. I'm sorry, but I swear it's me. I wonder if the only free throws Rudy has missed this year are the ones when I've been watching. I know Blake's are! And I still haven't seen Travis make a bucket. This kind of feels like blackmail, but what am I to do? Just not watch for the good of the team and the city? That's a pretty huge sacrifice. And so far I haven't been able to make it.