It's too crowded, except when it's not

Photo: Sports Illustrated

 

If I was being honest, I don't love crowds.

So, in truth, games with no fans haven't really been the big trauma that others make it out to be.

Oh, it's been weird and bad for business and on and on. No question.

And, to be quite clear, we need fans in the stands to operate (again: it's a business).

But I don't miss standing on line for a restroom/hot dog/to get in/to get out. I don't miss being shoulder-to-shoulder trying to decide if I really need that stuffed Aaron Judge chew toy for Rascal to whack around the house.

I don't miss some idiot screaming about how "duh Yankees wuz a better team back in duh olden dayz when dey had duh Mick."

I don't miss the fan who tells me how McCartney was at his best with "Drive My Car." From, you know, Revolver. As opposed to Rubber Soul.

And I sure don't miss the concert bosses who tell you this is how you must behave at THEIR show.

But, if there's one thing I truly, truly, truly miss it's the roar of the crowd.

Call it "The Vin Scully Factor." Young Vinny, growing up in Washington Heights in Manhattan, loved the sound of crowd noise cascading out of the large radio in his home.

Well, that's exactly what I miss.

You probably know James Harden became a member of the Brooklyn Nets tonight. The Nets have tried to have these moments of relevance, going back to Dr. J (when they were still in the ABA) or Jason Kidd or Paul Pierce. They've been to the NBA Finals and even then it didn't quite feel like a big deal. It seemed sort of ... nice.

So I think, when Harden first steps on the floor at the Barclay's Center, we will be missing out. It could have been a New York Moment (capitalized for emphasis).

Not an event but an EVENT. A New York -- A Brooklyn -- thing.

I can picture celebrity row with Jay-Z and Beyonce holding court, of course, as the first family of Nets basketball.

I can hear the PA (wishing it was my friend, former Nets PA man Rick Zolzer), "At guard...

But he's already been overtaken by a wave of noise. A tsunami, even.

"From Arizona State, number 13, Jaaaaaaaaaaammmeeees HAAARRRRRRRRRRRR-DEnnnnnnnnnn!"

Then Harden would shoot...

And shoot...

And shoot...

And Kevin Durant would hope for a few touches as well (oh that ego struggle will be fun to watch)...

And Harden would keep shooting...

And Brooklyn would love it. The place would go nuts

The YES Network would love it (Ian Eagle on the call, please, with the outstanding Sarah Kustok).

The city would love it.

The billboards would start going up around town.

Soon, Harden would be throwing out the first pitch at Yankee Stadium and/or Citi Field.

He'd be spotted at the Garden watching the Rangers.

And it would be a thing. Heck, a thang!

Much of this can still happen, of course, but this is where it feels different.

For a moment, hearing the crowd would be glorious, because that's when it's at it's best.

It's not when the preening "Super Fan" (Mick: Think "Marlboro Man") or Fireman Ed or any other Annie Wilkes ("I'm your number one fan!") type.

That's when you forget about all of the nuisances of the big crowd. Because, in that moment, you actually become a community -- high-fiving complete strangers because Harden or Patrick Ewing or Tino Martinez or Mark Messier has brought you out of your seat (assuming you were sitting) in a cathartic moment.

Martinez' Game 1 grand slam. Scott Brosius homering to tie Game 5. Moments like that.

That's when it's actually not so annoying, as you're singing "(Theme From) New York, New York" as you're walking to the subway or your car with 55,000 of your new closest friends, and that one fan of the other team who wishes to remain invisible.

I like the crowd when I can watch it. Better yet, when I can listen to it.

That's exactly what I'm looking forward to when I'm settled in my booth at Dutchess Stadium.

Give me that. All of that. Give me then on the edge of their seats when "The 'K Man'" from the other team is at the plate, and free pizza is on the line.

And that's why my TV would have been locked in on James Harden and the Nets when he made his Brooklyn debut.

Instead, it's anti-climatic.