clock menu more-arrow no yes mobile

Filed under:

Confessions of a Spurs fan

In an attempt to focus an inordinate amount of positive energy on the San Antonio Spurs, I call on fans everywhere to gather in this place and offer their most embarrassing confessions as a sacrifice to the basketball gods.

Bring me your tired, your weary, your cheesy cassette tapes.
Bring me your tired, your weary, your cheesy cassette tapes.
Steve Dykes

A few years ago a friend of mine at VTM penned what continues to be one of the most epic FanPosts ever created on the site. It was a confessional of sorts, but more importantly an attempt to clear the air and allow only positive vibes to penetrate Double T Nation.

It was a roaring success. We only had to hide one comment from a Brazilian fan who took the challenge a tad too seriously. His post would've made Tucker Max blush, and it was all described in beautiful broken English.

So as the Spurs continue their climb up the mountain, their path will only get more difficult to traverse. Therefore, I think it's incumbent upon us to do what we can as fans to help them on their journey. Sure, you can go to the AT&T Center and cheer during the game, or you can always watch from home and scare your kids. But are you really doing all you can? Is there anything better than offering a confession to the basketball gods and perhaps embarrassing yourself along the way while helping your favorite team?

I solicited confessions from prominent Spurs fans and media to be posted for the world to see, and will offer mine as well. In addition, I ask you to do the same in the comments. Take your time with this because it's important. The time for fun and games is over.

Without further ado, I offer this to the ghost of Pistol Pete's socks:

Showtime

Though my game was better suited to Bird's, my allegiance was to Magic, Coop, Byron, Kareem and Worthy growing up. I hated Boston, Detroit, Dallas and the Bulls. I had a little yellow bowl with a tooth and various other random objects that I would shake during games and help the Lakers win. Hormones and perpetual awkwardness will cause teenage boys to do strange things.

An affinity for cereal

When my brother was four years old he set a dumpster on fire. For the next ten years I held it over his head. He lived under the constant threat of me telling mom that he literally started a dumpster fire, and his only way to continue enjoying his freedom was to fix me a bowl of cereal. For ten long years I never had to fix my own bowl of cereal, and it was glorious. "You better go upstairs (I lived in the basement) and fix me a bowl of cereal or I'm telling mom you set that dumpster on fire," could be heard echoing throughout our household several times a day.

It's only now that I feel a little guilty about it. A little.

Spurnasty

I've never admitted this on PtR but during Game 6 last year I started tweeting that the Spurs didn't have a dynasty but a "Spurnasty." The collapse at the end of the game was all my fault. I still can't sleep.

Ice on Fire

One of my prized possessions growing up was Elton John's Ice on Fire cassette. It was one of the first clear cassettes I can remember so it was extra special. Oh Nikita you will never know anything about my home.


And here is what others have confessed to:

So the stage is set Spurs fans. Dig deep into the darkest recesses of your mind and bring me your embarrassing moments to toss into the fire. The catharsis will help you sleep at night and the karma will rain goodness on South Texas.

But please, don't try to outdo Tucker Max. That guy is a freak.