I've grown up my whole life with Cleveland sports playing on my living room TV. I've watched my dad stomp angrily out of the house after a Browns game ended in defeat. I've heard the room grow quiet as the Indians lost a clincher. I've seen disappointment in everyone's face when the Cavaliers missed the last shot to stay alive. Every Cleveland fan knows the feeling; we've all been there. But the most important thing that being a Cleveland sports fan has taught me is that we never give up.
That's right. We Clevelanders never give up.
Being a Cleveland sports fan is truly one of the hardest things to do, but here we are: 1.3 million of us, lining the streets and flooding Cleveland with unbelievable amounts of support. Here we are. We will never stop believing.
And we've finally won. Not just one game. Not just on a whim. Our team took us all the way and played their hearts out to win this for us; for the city of Cleveland. We were there with them through it all: the regular season, the 3-1 deficit, the watch parties downtown. We sat on the edge of our seats cheering on JR Smith, Kyrie Irving, Kevin Love, Tristan Thompson and of course, our man, LeBron James. They played for us. They played for Cleveland.
We were there through it all.
The victory parade was just the beginning of a long and well-deserved celebration. The sun was beating down, there was no room to move, there was a ton of noise, there was an ungodly amount of people and there was a whole lot of wine and gold. I would not trade the experience of being surrounded by 1.3 million people smiling, laughing, dancing, cheering and loving life.
A championship in Cleveland is a miracle. It's an indescribable feeling, finally understanding what it's like to be a champion. Your heart aches, your eyes water, your throat grows dry, your chest is pained. It's like a sudden realization that all is right in the world. That you can finally breath. That the darkness that has been shrouding you is gone. Gone.
A championship in Cleveland is hope. It's possibility. It's pride. It's belief. It's renewed faith that we are more than countless failures. We are no longer the fumble. We are no longer the shot. We are no longer the drive.
We are the now "the block, the three, and the D." (David Griffin, Cleveland.com)
Cleveland is my home. Cleveland has finally seen the last of the drought, and Cleveland is a city of champions once again. We never gave up, and no better fans in the world deserve this moment.
All in 216. All in forever.
