The Trail Blazers Run New York (For A While)
By Jeff Gamble

In June of 2000, I happened to be back visiting my family in Portland when the Trail Blazers were playing in game seven of the Western Conference Championship against the Los Angeles Lakers. The series between the two teams was deadlocked, and a trip to the finals on the line. As weak as the Eastern Conference had been, there was little doubt that the winner of this game would become the eventual NBA champs.

The contest happened to coincide with my birthday. My aunt, my uncle, and few cousins were all over at my Mom’s house - half there for me, half there to watch the game. There were a few gifts and a cake, but all celebrating was to be put on hold until after the struggle.

To my ire, my aunt and mom more or less talked during the entire four quarters. They did so at ease, checking the TV screen from time to time, but doing so mostly for show. Their real attention was focused in the kitchen, where they were preparing a meal and talking about whatever it was they were talking about. I seem to remember that they spoke in a calm manner, betraying any fake interest they had invested in the outcome of the game. It was clear that whether the Blazers won or lost, the conclusion would have no bearing on the way they conducted themselves following the final buzzer.

The game itself turned out poorly for the city of Portland. In fact, the word “poor” in no way does justice to what was easily on of the most antagonizing sporting events I have ever been witness to. What happened in the fourth quarter has simply become known in the basketball world as “The Collapse”. Mention it to any casual basketball fan, and they know exactly what you are talking about. Leading by 15 points early in the fourth quarter, the Blazers proceeded to lose it. They lost their composure, lost their ability to make shots, and then they lost the game. They were outscored 31-11 by the Lakers in the last 11 minutes and somehow, incredibly, after three quarters of brilliant basketball, they were sent home.

Upon the game-capping Kobe-to-Shaq alley-oop and subsequent posturing by O’Neil back down the floor (a video clip that still manages to find its way onto TV about as often as the 1992 Finals shot of Michael Jordan’s “What can I do - I’m Jordan” shrugging of the proverbial shoulders as Portland’s Cliff Robinson looks on in disbelief) the outcome, and incredible Lakers comeback, was all but complete. As I sank into my seat in horror, my aunt – perhaps just trying to downplay the moment, or perhaps saying something just to say something - took another glance at the TV and casually said, “Oh those Blazers. Just doing what they always do!”

To escape the room from people who seemed to be putting the Blazer meltdown in the same realm of momentarily misplacing one’s set of car keys, I fled for the solitude of the kitchen where I took a seat on the linoleum floor. For ten minutes, I looked at nothing. My cousin Brandon, also shell shocked, walked by me with little more than a glance, went out the back door, and took a quiet walk around the block. He would later recall seeing other lone men, faces gaunt, aimlessly wandering the neighborhood as well.

I took the loss badly because Portland is my team, but the roster of guys themselves had been tough for me to get behind. This was not the Clyde Drexler led lineup of the late 80’s and early 90’s – solid, respected players who had also been close to winning a championship without success. No, this current crew was a mix of talented ballers and thugs, guys who became as known for their off-court indiscretions as they had for their winning. Between 1998 to 2003 (and even today), drunk driving, narcotics possession, domestic assault, club fights, spitting on other players and fans, cocaine abuse, drug rehab… it all made the police blotter of the team that became known as the “Jail Blazers.”

Despite this fact, or maybe in part because of it, the Blazers were a hugely popular team. Around the time of “The Collapse”, I began to notice that in New York, people were wearing all kinds of Blazer stuff. At first it seemed a little coincidental, but as time went by, I kept spotting the team logo on people’s hats, on coats, and on jerseys.

By 2001, there was no denying that the Portland Trail Blazers represented the apparel of choice for New York kids wearing team gear. The only team logo I noticed more of was the Yankees. After that, without question, it was the Blazers, followed next by probably the 76ers, and then the NY Jets. The Knicks were barely on the radar.

For two or three years I just watched it happen, more or less just making a small mental note of it every time I saw somebody wearing something Blazer-related. In some cases, it was just a hat. Often times though, it was entire outfit.

In the Spring of 2003, with no letdown in sight, I decided to start asking people wearing Blazer stuff if I could take their picture. I wasn’t exactly sure how to go about it, but I felt like I needed to document it somehow if I could. So anytime I was out with my camera and saw a candidate, I started asking them. Some guys were real cool about it, while others wanted nothing to do with me. After having approached a few people, my pitch went something like this: “Hey excuse me, can I ask you something real quick? This is going to sound a little bit strange, but I’m from Portland and I’m huge Blazer fan. I’m out here on vacation and I’d love to show everybody back home a shot of that (hat, jersey, coat, etc.) that you’re wearing. Blah blah blah.”

For the most part, guys said okay. There were still a fair number of them though who flat out said no. In a way I understood. I pictured some guy coming up and giving me the same speech, and I could see where there was a creep factor involved. But some of these kids had amazing gear, so hearing the “no” was rough. I remember one guy in the subway who was decked out in Blazer warm-ups…all in silver. A full-on customized job. Way out of control. He told me “naw man, no photos,” and it hurt so bad that that I thought about offering him money.

After that, I decided that I needed a sure-fire approach. So in addition to the camera, I started carrying a faux contact sheet in my back pocket of the Blazer photos I had taken so far. When I went up to these guys, my pitch changed from, “Hey, I’m a tourist!” to “Hey, I take pics of guys rockin’ Blazer gear. You want in, or what?” and then I’d show them the sheet. This made a few guys go from being skeptical, to being excited.

I casually went after Blazer people in New York for about a year and a half. I never went out of my way to look for them, but if I saw somebody and I happened to have my camera with me, I’d stop them and ask for a photo. All of the excitement and Blazer enthusiasm began to die down after the Summer of 2004 though. The team in Portland was tanking, my interest in chasing these guys was waning, and the amount of black and red on the New York streets was disappearing fast, just like the team during the fourth quarter in game seven of the 2000 Western Conference Finals.

- October, 2005