A night in Rip City

Tonight was my night out in Portland.  I got myself a single ticket to see the Trailblazers play the Mavericks.  I walked to the stadium from my hotel.  

When I got there I finished my cigar in the designated smoking area.

What a sad existence the smoker has.

 Inside the stadium the fans were very excited about a match with a division rival.

I sat next to a nice couple with seasons tickets.  They made me feel at home and didn't care that I was a Celtic fan.  I think the Portland fan is a nicer animal than a Boston fan.

 Much noise at a pro basketball game.  They even gave out those devilish thundersticks.

I hope the inventor of the thunderstick is buried in his coffin with thunderstick noise pumped into his casket.

 Behind me was a Seattle Sonics fan.  Seattle is only three hours by car from Portland.  I will remember that on my next visit, so I can see Deanna and Bob and Katherine.

By the way, the Seattle Sonics team was moved to Oklahoma seven years ago.  Seattle fans are still angry.  They campaign to bring them back constantly.

If the Celtics ever moved away because of a greedy owner I would bid them good riddance and become more of a fan of Premier League Football.

 I was rooting for former Celtic, Rajon Rondo.  He was recently traded to the Mavericks after many lovely years in Celtic green.  He is not fitting in.  He sits at the end of the bench when he isn't playing and recently was suspended for having a shouting match with the coach.

He had a terrible game.

 Skinny blonde girls were thrown around the court like dolls.

 The highlight of an otherwise sloppy game was when this dude chucked a half court shot, nailed it and won a car.

 Five seconds before his shot I asked my new friend Gary if anyone ever won.

After the excitement of the big shot my next thought was about the taxes he would have to pay.  I'm becoming cynical in my older years.