I'm one of those homegrown fans. I was born in Sacramento in 1976. When I was 9 and all I cared about, thought about, and did was play every sport imaginable--baseball, soccer, football, golf, fly fishing (even at that age), ping pong, basketball, tennis, swimming, serious whiffle ball, track and field, kickball, and anything we could make up-- our own little Sacramento got an actual professional sports team. For those who weren't there, or weren't interested (read: catatonic), this was by far the biggest thing to happen to Sacramento since the Gold Rush. Really. The love affair was immediate, intense, and enduring, and for many years, unconditional.
I was a lucky kid regarding the Kings. My grandfather had season tickets every year since day one. I went to at least 20 home games a year until late high school. As a young boy in grade school, he would take me out of school (!) and, dressed in my nicest Cosby sweater (remember the decade, people), I would go to the famous "Hot Seat" Luncheons. For those who don't know what that is, these were gatherings for season ticket holders, in a hotel conference room next to Arden Fair Mall, perhaps 200 guests, with a head table featuring players, the coach, the GM, and of course, Jerry Reynolds in some role or another. I remember close interactions with Harrold Pressley, Travis Mays, the late, great, Wayman Tisdale, Kenny Smith, and yes, Reggie Theus. I would sometimes go early to games and get autographs or talk to the players during the first shootaround. I was classmates with one of the owners sons. A ballboy was a childhood friend.
I remember the old Arco. Our beloved warehouse with hoops. Talk about a raucaus crowd. Folks you have no idea. Every game had playoff intensity among the crowd. I am not exaggerating. We still have the best fans in all of sports, but just to give you an idea of what those early years were like.... we were not that good (except for the very first year, we never made the playoffs), but you better believe we loved that team. Every game was absolutely packed, we never ever got blown out at home, and we always made a run at least once. In that old Arco, it was simply deafening. You have to understand that the entire stands were literally thrown together with plywood. That's it. It was just frame and plywood, and hollow underneath. So you can imagine that it did not take long for people to realize that stomping their feet created a huge echoing thunder. This was the original, real Arco Thunder. Yes it was a huge (well, for the building at least), and extremely rowdy crowd... but it was the stomping, the stomping on the hollow plywood stands, that made the place feel like it was literally about to explode, come apart at the joints. We rooted to beat Alex English. We rooted to beat Clyde Drexler. We were graced with Michael Jordan. We tried to beat Kareem, and did, on occasion. Dominique Wilkins. World B. Free. We were, without a single solitary doubt, the best, the loudest, the craziest, the most passionate, the most loyal, foot stomping, head screaming, wave making, nutball crazy crowd in all of professional sports. You'd watch other games on TV and just not understand. Not even a comparison. Inside Arco, it was our own world. And we loved the Kings.
Years went by, we never won. Years and years. But somehow, we loved them. There were moments, and there were players. The teams, for the most part, were scrappy and played hard, mostly feeding off the crowd, I think. Vinny Del Negro was particularly delightful to watch. Then, it turned. It turned fast, and it turned big. We were the best team in basketball, and we were by far the most fun to watch. And of course, nearly unbeatable in Arco. And the crowd went wild.
Then, of course, the inevitable decline. It was tough to let go after so much success after so many years of futility. But now, after a dreadful, dreadful year, it's back. It is back. Here we go again folks. Enjoy... and... as always... GO KINGS!