The Thread, Becoming Jazz Fans

But I’ve always been a huge Jazz fan. Had a poster of Stockton and another of the Dream Team. Met several Jazz players through Jr Jazz events. Went to a basketball camp of the Big Dawg’s. Heck, I even helped the Jazz Bear move. True Jazz fan through and through

I don’t have a specific moment, but I have loved watching Jazz basketball since the late 80’s. Probably my favorite Christmas present of all time was tickets to see the Jazz beat the Spurs when I was 8 for my first game with my grandpa. I remember when Hornacek played for the Suns and my grandpa said every time he shot the ball it just somehow went in. I was so excited when the Jazz traded for him. I still have emotional scars from the finals years.

my dad bought a brand new 1985 Chevy Astro from LHM Chevy – it came with like a 10 game ticket package. I was 8, going on 9. I loved going to those games at the old Acord Arena to watch Adrian Dantley, Rickey Green, Darryl Griffith, Mark Eaton, Billy “The Whopper” Paultz, and of course a rookie PG named John Stockton.

During the games they would ask you to turn to some ad in the program, and if you had a sticker on the ad you won a prize. One fateful day we actually won something – a life size growth chart featuring 7’4" Mark Eaton! When my dad and I went down to claim the prize the promotions guy asked, “So do you want to shoot during the time-out?” Uh, let me think. YEAH!

So during the next time out they brought both of us out to shoot for a trip to Florida. My dad had to shoot from half-court, I only had to shoot a free throw. Dad air-balled badly and it was my turn. I wasn’t much of a ballplayer then – or now, for that matter – but I could hit a free throw. I went up for the shot – and it rimmed out. Close, but no cigar. As we went back to our seats everybody was telling me nice shot, patting me on the back, etc. Didn’t win the prize but it was still really cool.

I was hooked for life.

ps. I remember feeling kind of ripped off by the Mark Eaton growth poster. It was actually only 6’4" tall. You were supposed to mount it 12" up the wall.

I was actually a fan of the Utah Stars of the ABA as a young teen. My dad and I would drive down from Idaho to watch a game or two at the Salt Palace.
Then, when the Jazz moved to Salt Lake from New Orleans, I automatically became a fan. As a newly married and living in Salt Lake City in 1981, a bank had a special where you opened an account and received 2 tickets to a Jazz game. My wife and I went. She has never become much of a fan, but I can’t get the jazz blood out of my system.
I still come to a few Jazz games a year despite living 250 miles away in Nevada. I hope the lockout does not last long. My best exercise program takes place during the season. I purchase NBA League Pass, but I only allow myself to watch Jazz games if I am on the exercise bike. It is great motivation and if the game is close, I really get a workout.

When I was a “first-year-junior” at BYU (I eventually ended up on the “6-year graduation plan”), the Jazz moved to Utah from New Orleans. I remember going to a game at the old Salt Palace that year. Tickets were about $3.00 each (cheap even in 1979-1980) and our group sat way up at the top of the bleachers. The Jazz basketball I watched at that game was not very good nor very interesting. However, a girl in my LDS ward at BYU was the niece of Sam Battisone, the owner of the Jazz at that time, and I had always liked Pete Maravich (who was pretty much in the twilight of his career at that time), so I became a very casual fan of the Jazz, shortly after their move to Utah.

However, I was probably more of a fan of the Boston Celtics until the late 80’s, when the Jazz really started to become good (and the LA/Boston rivalry was winding down). I especially liked Darrell Griffith, whom I had enjoyed watching in the ‘82-’83 NCAA finals (as Dr. Dunkenstein). I really liked the fact that he was such a big gunner, who never saw a three point shot he didn’t like. I also liked coach Frank Layden, because he was so funny. I gradually became a diehard fan as the Jazz became a better team through the Eaton, Griffith, Dantley, Bailey, Malone, Stockton years.

My favorite experiences as a Jazz fan are the following:

I think it was the ‘89-’90 season, before I was married. My brother-in-law’s company had company tickets that were about the 4th row up and were “VIP” seats. He invited me to a play-off game with Phoenix on (gasp!) Easter Sunday. Of course, I went to church first, so as to not totally dishonor the Sabbath. I think it was the first round of the playoffs, and the Jazz got knocked out of the playoffs in that game when Kevin Johnson hit a last second jumpshot over Blue Edwards.

Another memory is when my brother-in-law invited me to several more Jazz games, again with the “VIP” seats four rows up from the floor in the Salt Palace. Before the game, we would go get dinner down on the lower floor (the dinner was part of the package that came with the VIP seats). I remember seeing Karl Malone’s mother there at the pre-game dinner on several occasions.

Another memory is that a couple years ago I went to a Jazz game (in which we played and beat the San Antonio Spurs for the first time in many years) as part of my then 10-year-old son’s Jr. Jazz package. My son and I decided to sneak treats into the game, which included a liter of Sprite soda pop. Although very awkward, I was somehow able to sneak the pop past the people at the door taking tickets. However, when we got up to our seats in the nosebleed section and opened the pop, it blew up and went all over the front of my pants as a result of being shaken up during the process of sneaking it in. I sat through the game with wet, sticky jeans, and vowed to never do that again.

Another memory is that about 3-4 years ago, my wife got her company’s corporate seats for a play-off game in which the Jazz played the Lakers. Again, it was on a Sunday. Again, not to totally dishonor the Sabbath, we went to church first—and I made sure not to mention my planned Sunday afternoon activities to anyone at church (in order to fully preserve my LDS hypocrite status). The corporate seats were on the second row of the Energy Solutions Arena (or was it still the Delta Center then?) on the north side. We were only about ten feet away from the announcers, Hubie Brown and Greg (can’t remember his last name). Also, that was when the movie High School Musical was very popular. Several of the actors from High School Musical were at the game, sitting on the front row on the opposite side of the announcers from our seats. My then five-year-old daughter was not too interested in the game, but was very excited to see the High School Musical actors up close and in person. In addition, my son actually got one of those little promotional basketballs they always throw up in the stands (but which you never have much of a chance to get unless you are sitting down on the floor). Actually, it was thrown to one of the announcers (Greg-whats-his-name), who turned around and threw it directly to my son. Also, the Jazz actually beat the Lakers by a few points in that game, which was great.

My favorite Jazz experience was a game I went to this year. My wife chose not to go (because she was still mad at me for yelling things at the referees and embarrassing her, with her company people watching from afar, at a prior game in which she had the 2nd row corporate tickets—although I pledged to her that I would tone things down, after that game). Again, we had my wife’s company’s corporate tickets. I made a sign which read, “KF44, the Ukranian Assault Weapon,” which I took to the game. Before the game, we were down in the belly of the Energy Solutions Arena eating the free pre-game meal that goes with the corporate tickets. Sitting at the table next to me was none other than the legendary Frank Layden, with some other rich-looking people. He saw my sign and asked if he could see what I had written on it, which I showed to him—and he laughed. (Of course, I have added that moment to my personal list of “brushes with fame.”) Prior to the game starting, during warm-ups, I was able to catch young Kyrylo’s eye with my sign, and he read it and gave me a thumbs-up gesture. At every break in the game, I took the opportunity to hold up my sign. Although my wife’s corporate people apparently saw me at the game sitting in the corporate seats holding up the sign, and told my wife about it (I got in trouble with her for that too), it was still all worth it.

Now, if I could only learn to act my age, I could die happy.