Tim Becker—KOIN Local Six

 I woke up Monday Morning with a hang-over.  Funny thing is, I didn’t have a single fermented thing to drink Sunday night. 

 I wondered . Then I  remembered: A belly-full of  the Blazers-Rockets series. That’s the culprit! That sort of concoction will do it to you every time, especially when it’s laced with copious amounts of  ‘oh-so-close-but-we-still-lost-in-the-end’ disappointment. The Blazers lost the last two games by grand total of four points.  And Sunday’s 89-88 loss is the real mind-boggler; One point is what separates Portland from having this series all-square at 2 wins each, and being down 3 games to 1. Chew on that too long, and it’ll turn your taste buds into pungent swamp-mud.

One less shot for Houston.

One more rebound at the right time for the Blazers.

One less foul called on Greg Oden and Joel Przybilla. 

One more chance to get the ball to Rudy Fernandez.

If only.

And it’s not just game-4, which brings me back to the mud.  With the exception of the game-1 blow-out by Houston, this entire series has felt like running a marathon smack-dab in the middle of a swamp.  And the Rockets are the Creature from the Black Lagoon that just keeps bubbling up from the muck to scare-up a win in the end.  Can anyone kill the monster? And if so, how will they do it? Will it attack again?

It’s like the Rockets backed-up  a truck before it all began, and dumped a festering, thick load of tar on the magical road the Trail Blazers were driving down all season.  I’ve never been more exhausted--mentally and physically--from watching an NBA playoff game or series. I know the Blazers can’t say the same from playing in it, because they’re so young that they’ve never been here before.

But I have.  And the fans have.  And we’re all wondering if we’ll wake up with another hang-over on Wednesday morning. (Burp!)