The Newark, New Jersey Nets Open Building With Win

"They probably shouldn't put the lyrics 'lose control' on that video screen right as the Pistons win the tip."

A fair point by my girlfriend, and just another early detail to worry an eager Nets fan like myself on opening night in Newark. Aside from the glossy new intro video for the Nets and the shiny veneer of the Prudential Center, there were enough clues early on to make me question how much new the Russian and coach Avery Johnson had really brought to the team.

"Uh oh. There's Sly."



Another astute call from the lady. See, the Nets PR blitz wants fans to think that this is an entirely new franchise, and an entirely new experience. Yet they still paraded out the sorry cast of characters who used to live at the Izod Center in Secaucus: Befuddling mascot Sly the Fox, overcompensating MC Marco G, dancing crazy shirt guy, and Mini Sly (who at one point came out on a step ladder with a wind-up police siren on top, which was pretty awesome actually). The sight of these familiar faces, coupled with the empty seats at tip-off (probably attributable to the 7pm start time) and the Nets' tepid start (except for Devin Harris who looked exactly like we all thought Avery would make him look right from the start) was enough for me to retreat back into my normally hopeless Nets fan psyche.

Then the Nets made a run late in the first that caused the pistons to call a timeout. The crowd, which had filled out to respectable numbers, was... uh... loud. (Sorry, I was having trouble typing that last sentence, because it's been a while.) Did that happen last year even once? Maybe this is different...


Then Travis Outlaw kept shooting his way out of my heart (1-7 for the game) and the Nets went into halftime down by eight. After standing for most of the first half in the row of seats directly in front of his luxury box, Prokhorov finally took a seat. To top off my discomfort, at halftime I realized that I forgot that Tracy McGrady—one of my absolute favorite players growing up and forever—is on the Pistons, the team I had been watching for the last 24 minutes, thus kick starting my quarter-life crisis.

But then, the Nets won the third quarter, weathered a Pistons comeback, and won the game after being down seven points with 1:39 left in the game. And I started noticing changes in places I never had changes before.

Look: I have some notes on the game and the Nets second half comeback that are about actual basketball, but you can read game breakdowns other places, like here. And anyways, I had trouble jotting thoughts down during the game because my stupid grin kept getting in the way. I wasn't smiling because Lopez can score in so many ways and finally hit that 17-foot jumper that he takes too much, or because Favors is everything Sean Williams was and everything he was not, and not because the Nets have a bunch of determined guys who simply believe in their coach. Those are all fantastic developments for the team, but my outright glee came from the crowd. I have no idea where these people came from, but god damn were they there and thrilled to be watching Nets basketball. (I never thought I'd write a sentence like that again.) Most likely none of them had ever been to the Izod Center to watch the Nets, because everyone in that old building acted like clapping was a sin, punishable by having to watch more Nets games at the Izod Center. But last night at the Prudential Center? The fans were incredible. They were appreciative of the highlight reel material provided by Harris, Lopez, and Favors, but they were rabid for a Nets victory. The place was buzzing after the Nets strong third quarter (A STRONG THIRD QUARTER! BY THE NETS!), but then Avery acted like his ears were too sensitive and did his best to quiet the noise by letting a lineup of Williams, Farmar, Favors, Petro, and Damion James stay on the floor for way too long.

But after a few stops by the Nets, a Cirque du Soleil three-point play by Harris, Morrow's three, and TWill calling for more crowd noise while getting back on defense like he'd been watching tape of Kenyon Martin from 2002, the Prudential Center crowd rebounded and erupted with enthusiasm that simply has not been felt at a Nets game since the Kidd-lead finals runs.

Leaving the arena, coming down the escalator into the lobby that exits onto Championship Plaza, spontaneous applause erupted. (I CANNOT BELIEVE I'M WRITING THESE WORDS ABOUT A NETS GAME.) The Prudential Center ushers joined in on the cheering, and one started giving joyous full-body high fives to a handful of particularly amped up fans. Maybe this happens to even greater lengths at NBA arenas all over the country with even more excitable, more passionate fans. I don't know. I'm from New Jersey, so I'll take it.