Every year, for the past 15 years, in late June, I could always be prepared for one of the most exciting nights of the year for me. The NBA Draft.
After weeks of research, studying game tape, reading reports, coming up with scenarios all my dreams were about to become reality. Better yet, the future of the Celtics was about to change dramatically. We were going to be contenders after this. Or atleast I thought we would.
Every year without fail, I would go through these same set of emotions. And I loved it.
But last night...it all changed. I had no idea who half the players being picked were after the third pick. I was nodding off by the time the Celts 30th pick rolled around. Once they made it, I was confused and dissapointed. Not because I didn't think he was a good player, but because I hadn't put in my time. The draft has been good to me. Maybe not always kind, but definitely faithful. I could always count on that one night of anticipation, excitement, and hope. The Celtics make one run to the finals and happen to win, and I cheat on my loyal friend.
I don't think things will ever be the same for the draft and me. Things were starting to get a bit rough anyways. I have this weird feeling that this break will be good for us.