Last Thursday marked for Americans Thanksgiving, a time to reflect back on our individual and communal blessings and the quality of the lives we lead. Of course, we're all thankful for things like family, our talents, our posessions, and the free country we live in. Writing about those would, I'm quite certain, bore whatever readers I do have to tears.

So, instead, I'm here to give thanks for basketball.

The oft-repeated phrase is that you "don't know what you've got 'til it's gone." For basketball fans, the pessimistic situation conveyed in this statement ocurred rather recently. Though at times it seems like eons ago, the NBA's three month lockout is, in fact, but three years past. It's certainly recent enough that I, for one, can still remember quite clearly how depressed I was throughout the lockout.

I like football and baseball, and frequently watch both, and have numerous interests outside of sports (okay, not really), but nothing can compare to basketball. Basketball was the first sport I ever got into. The first season I really followed the Sonics was 1989-90, the rookie year of Shawn Kemp. That season, my dad and I listened to at least part of every game on the radio -- it is amazing how much freer I was to follow the Sonics then! Perhaps because they reminded me of my own youth, I quickly became a fan of both Kemp and fellow rookie Dana Barros.

The next year, the Sonics drafted Gary Payton. The following year, they hired George Karl, and the stage was set for a nearly decade-long run at Pacific Division and Western Conference Championships. Though I'm no bandwagon jumper, I can't help but consider myself lucky to have had such a good time to grow up as a fan. Not only were the Sonics beginning to peak, but so was the NBA in general.

Michael Jordan's star shined its brightest during my early years as a fan -- though I remember the luster coming off somewhat when, on the way to a 1993 math tournament (the Sonics lost at Phoenix that night, and yes it is terribly pathetic that I can still remember specific Sonic games from eight plus years ago) I read Sam Smith's book, The Jordan Rules, which is incidentally a terribly interesting book for anyone who hasn't read it. It's also a great perspective on the ocassional comment in message boards that Payton's lockerroom demeanor is not that dissimilar to Jordan's; the difference being that one was just good enough to lead the players he referred to as 'His supporting cast' to 6 titles, and the other was merely all-world. I watched with intent all of Jordan's first three title runs -- this was before the time I got so bitter and cynical over a Sonic playoff loss that I tuned out all other basketball -- and can still remember clearly watching his retirement press conference before heading off to sixth grade class.

I also witnessed as a young fan the birth of the star player/entertainment phenomenon that was Shaquille O'Neal. On the self-proclaimed Man of Steel, I was not quite so idyllic. While attending an Orlando game at the Colliseum on standing room only tickets -- let me pause for a moment to mention just how much I loved standing room only tickets, which provided my entrance to most games I attended during the period from 92 to 94 -- I remember reacting to a play where Shaq spiked the ball but was not called for a T with a precocious rant about the NBA protecting its superstars. To this, one fan sitting in the same area responded, "Yeah, what he said!"

Perhaps no playoff run was better than the 1993 Sonic run to the Western Conference Finals. In the first round, I've once related the story that after a depressing first half of Game Five against Utah, I went to my grandmother's house (she lived next door to me as a kid) to shoot hoops. When I came back, to my surprise, the Sonics had already returned to their rightful position in the lead. If only it were that easy with the UW's loss at Miami last evening .... In the second round, I attended a game against Houston that was rather middling until forward Eddie Johnson hit a 70-foot heave at the close of the third quarter. As the chant of, "Ed-die, Ed-die, Ed-die!" cascaded down around me, I knew there was no way the Sonics would fail to pull out the game. Game Seven of that series was a classic, right down to Vernon Maxwell whispering something to Derrick McKey as the other Heavy D prepared to shoot two free throws down the stretch. He missed them both, and it took a missed Kenny Smith three to secure the Sonics' advance to their inevitable matchup with the Phoenix Suns.

Of course, for a long while it didn't seem that inevitable. What's easily forgotten in the course of events was that the Sonics very nearly were not the first one seed ever upset by an eight. No, Paul Westphal's Suns nearly had the same fate the year before. After losing the first two games in Phoenix, Westphal issued a guarantee that never seems to have gotten the attention of other similar ones -- Jim Fassel last year promising a playoff berth for the Football Giants and Lou Piniella guaranteeing the Mariners would return home in this year's ALCS -- that the Suns would come back to win the series. Something had to give, as no one seed had ever lost to an eight, but no team had ever lost the first two games of a five game series at home and emerged victorious. In Game Five, I recall watching at Azteca the end of regulation on my mom's handheld TV (I wonder what happened to that anyway?) I thought for certain the Lakers would ease the Sonics' path to a matchup with MJ and the Bulls, but, alas, behind a weighty (bad pun) effort from Oliver Miller, the Suns prevailed in overtime. And after Charles Barkley hit a jumper over David Robinson's outstretched left arm to dispatch San Antonio in Game Five of their less-than-epic battle, the Sonic-Sun battle was set.

Game One of that series was pretty unevetful. In fact, I can't say that I remember anything about it except that the Suns took the game. The next night, however, I remember clearly. My family had just bought a new, much bigger TV to use downstairs. We installed it the night of the game, and I was watching down there when Sam Perkins drilled a threeball from the right side of the arc to allow the Sonics to steal one down in the Valley of the Sun. Game Three fell on my brother's birthday, and we held a pool party and taped the game off Pay Per View. You know, I've never actually watched that game ... we got home, saw the score, and couldn't bear to see how it happened. Game Four was a blowout for the Sonics, and the first thing that pops into my head about that game is Sun reserve point guard Negele Knight. I have no clue why. Game Five was the Dan Majerle show, as he scored 30 plus and hit a bunch of clutch threes to hold the Sonics off in what was a close game all the way. I was at Game Six, as the Suns tried to clinch, but the Sonics convincingly sent the series back to Phoenix tied at three with a blowout win.

And then there's Game Seven.

If I were to name the most depressing Sonic playoff game I've ever watched, Game Five in 94 against Denver would obviously rank at the top of the list, but Game Seven at Phoenix is a close second. One thing that sticks out to me now about the game was that the Suns brought in noted Washington heckler Robin Fick to sit behind the bench to heckle the Sonics. Now, you should know I hate to complain about refereeing, but I wonder if the Suns didn't import their own zebras as well. The Suns shot 64 free throws that day, a Sonic opponent record, 22 of them by Barkley, also an opponent record. It was too much for the Sonics to overcome despite 33 points from Eddie Johnson in his final game as a Sonic.

I got over my depression soon enough, however. My family and I went out to where a group lead by local hip-hop radio station KUBE 93 was meeting the team's plane. Despite the loss, the Sonics had exceeded expectations, so that was a fun atmosphere.

So, my point is -- I did have a point, didn't I? Well, my intention with this column was to talk about the effect the lockout had on my emotional state in a psychoanalytical fashion, and use that to demonstrate why I'm grateful for basketball. But I think this works as well ... just look at all these memories I can summon on command of games that happened nearly a decade ago (!) I haven't even approached my years as a season ticket holder. Quite obviously, the sport of basketball -- and in this case, specifically the Sonics -- has had quite a hold on me throughout my life. And I've enjoyed that time, so I am thankful this Thanksgiving.

And on a more personal note, I'm grateful to have this forum to manifest my crazy ramblings. Without you, the readers, SonicsCentral.com would never work. So thanks to everyone who takes time out of their day to visit. Special thanks go to those who have graced the website with their own time and effort. Heavy, Joe, SFS, Brian, and Grumpy, thanks for putting in your time and putting up with me. As well, thanks to everyone who has participated in the message boards and helped give us what I think is clearly the livliest Sonic discussion on the net. Also, though I doubt he's reading, I'm grateful to BskBALL for first giving me the chance to write about the Sonics on the internet and discover that I really liked it and hopefully didn't suck at it. I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving and let's enjoy the rest of the season!