the best time of his life, the best time of mine...

I was just speaking with a buddy of mine at my happy place, the lounge at LBC and I was reminded of a conversation we had three or so days ago about an experience he had. He told me the story of his time at the 2010 NBA Finals between the Los Angeles Lakers and the Boston Celtics. Now I am not a big sports fan at all, but I did follow the Finals this year. There were a bunch of my fast friends at the Lounge that were hot blooded over the Lakers winning again so I allowed myself the luxury of falling in their fanatical torrent- hell, who needs to justify cheering the home team especially when your home is Los Angeles? Whatever. So my friend is describing his time at the Finals, what celebrities were sitting around him, in front of him and behind (he was for the most part court side). He noted the bright lights, near neon in his imagination, near blinding to his flesh and hot, the roar of the crowd of which he was, at least, a vital organ, cacaphonic and cheering. As he sang me his descriptions of those nights, I could clearly see the wonderment awash in his eyes and hear the childhood electricity in his voice. I could vicariously engage in his rapture as he concluded his discourse, "It was the best time of my life. The best time of my life, ever." To me, there was a lot more going on than sports there. Passion, transcendence, this was nothing short of...holy fervor and the sort.