I was motionless. My hands covered my face. My eyes were glazed. My heart galloped.
I sat still for minutes, which felt like hours, after so many days and so many years.
Petrified. Through Kyrie’s shot. Through LeBron’s free throw. Through the horn sounding and ensuing celebration: Cleveland won a championship.
I wept.
There’s nothing glamorous about being a Cleveland sports fan from Cincinnati.
Growing up, I always wanted sympathy from strangers. I wanted others to know how grueling those 500-mile drives to Cleveland and back felt. I wanted others, when sulking after a tough loss, to remember the Hatch family always had it worse.