I’ve spent more time in Memphis’ arena than any other arena but the old Reunion Arena in Dallas, where I grew up and was lucky enough to go to about 10 games a year with my Dad, who would buy one of those wonky half-season passes and split the time between taking me or my Mom or a client. Alas, the Mavericks were garbage during most of those years in the early to mid-90s, and so as a boy I found other teams to root for. Never the front-running type, I fell in love with two teams during those formative years, one from each conference: The Seattle Supersonics, whose green uniforms fit my favorite color, and the New York Knicks, the team that finally beat the Bulls every other kid loved and so I, naturally, hated.