Stars: Epitome of a state gone crazy for hoops

Stars: Epitome of a state gone crazy for hoops

You were there, weren't you?

Wasn't everyone, at least in spirit? It was a wild spring night in 1971 when Utah made the map. The night Salt Lake felt "big city" for the first time. The time the horoscope said it was going to be a day for important things, and it really was.

Were you there in that crush of fans that flooded the Salt Palace court?

Of course you were. Utah Stars officials were actually scared of what might happen. They hadn't anticipated the wild stampede, didn't have a clue. There were no restraining ropes and hardly any security when everything broke loose. How were they to know winning the American Basketball Association championship would mean so much?

The small-market-that-could made all the papers the next day.

And weren't you there, too, in 1997? You must have been. That was the fragrant June night in which the Jazz evened the NBA Finals series with Chicago at two games apiece. Unlike 1971, when nearly all the celebrating was in the arena, this time it erupted into the streets. Deep into the night people were riding the hoods of cars, honking and howling at the moon. Thousands painted their faces, but others painted their driveways and their cars, too.

And weren't you there when the team came home from Game 5 in Chicago the next year after extending the series? How could you not have been? Fifteen thousand people showed up at the executive airport, lining the streets, a city gone mad. Again, Utah's passion for pro basketball was underestimated by team officials. They had only expected a third that many people.

Gonna have to face it, we're addicted to hoops.

This is Utah, home of Donny and Marie, incredible snow, indescribable red rocks, Olympic scandal, Olympic redemption, a brand-spanking-new freeway and more ice cream lovers per capita than anywhere on earth; but it's also home to more basketball courts per capita than anywhere on earth, including Indiana.

This is Utah, where we stay up too late watching the Jazz and then complain about being tired the next day at work. Then we do it again the next time they play. We pick up a pocket schedule at the bank and never take just one. Utah, where we talk about doubling down and spacing and the pick-and-roll as if we grew up with them — which most of us did.

Utah, where there's a church on every corner and, amazing grace, a gym in every church. Land of the free, home of the rainbow jump-shot.