Trail Post - A Portland Trail Blazers Blog

Okay, if you want any actual analysis of last night’s debacle, you can check out some of the other guys out there, like Blazers Edge or all-star beat reporter Jason Quick. Here’s what happened to me.

Last year, your humble Trail Post blogger dressed up with a fellow reader as Santa Claus, with the expressed purpose of being shown not only on the big screen, but also on national television, specifically on ESPN. We had incredible success last year, leading me to proudly post a screen cap of myself for months afterward on my Facebook page. When I saw we had another Christmas game, I got the tickets and the suits as fast as I could for the sequel to Santa night.

First off, these Santa suits only cost 15 dollars, and that may be over priced. They’re made of the felt that catches on any other material. When I took it off, I was covered in red pills, a crimson aura. The beard’s only purpose was to find ways to sneak into my mouth when I least expected it, leaving horrible white fibers that were impossible to dislodge. On the plus side, the boot sheaths worked like a charm, and I truly looked like I was heading a pack of magical flying reindeer from the knee down, so kudos to the folks who give Walgreen’s their Santa suits. To top off the thing, I had my Blazers Santa hat to class it up and make it game-appropriate. Taken altogether, I looked like a low-rent Claus, with my dark beard covered in white specks rubbed off from the flimsy fake beard and the Santa beard draped around my neck like a hipster’s keffiyeh.

Good thing I had an ally; Trail Post reader Nate. He happily donned the tacky suit and waited out at the bus stop with me in order to go to the game. There’s something strange about being out in public dressed as Saint Nick. First of all, every person makes a joke to this effect: “Where’s my present?” By the fourth time we heard it, we had the response of “We’re off duty until next year” rehearsed. It’s quite another surreal thing to be a few beers deep and having excited children yell “Hi!” to you from across the street. Before long, the bus came and we took to the Rose Garden.

Due to the snow delays, we arrived just as the team was tipping off, so we didn’t have time to create a rapport with the cameramen or get ourselves comfortable in our seats, but we were able to get through that with a healthy dose of hefeweizen. Before long, we even got to use our sign: Santa Connection ♥ Spanish Connection (note: I had no clue how homoerotic the sign was until the bus ride back from the game. It seems like we were a couple that was in love with Rudy and Sergio. Our friends at Blazers Edge made a similar assumption when talking about it) when Sergio and Rudy hooked up on that reverse lay-up.

During the game, there were a couple of other solidly festive folks on the screen. My personal favorites included the two guys dressed up in something that I could only say reminded me of a Blazers version of the Green Man suit from It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. ¹ The brilliant and disturbing Batum Raider sign featuring the head of French swingman Nico Batum on the body of Angelina Jolie was easily the best of the night. However, my beef with the night laid with the other big holiday tag team at the game; the Grinch and goddamn Cindy Lou Who. This dude was hogging up the TV time and not letting some Santas get the time they deserved too. We get it, you’re green. YAWN. Joke’s on you, it’s probably hard to get red paint off of nipples.

Anyway, this son of a bitch stole the spotlight from the Santa Connection. The TNT cameraman and I had been making eye contact the whole game, waiting for the right moment in order to get us on camera, and it finally came in the fourth quarter. He brought his rig up the aisle and came right to us and was making the “OK” sign as he had it on us. “WE GOT IT!” I was screaming in my head. It was a perfect Christmas moment, I was going to get on TV and the Blazers were ahead during the fourth quarter. Then disaster struck. I didn’t receive the torrent of text messages like I had the year before. When I asked around about the last commercial break, I learned that they had put the Grinch on TV for like the tenth time that game. Not soon afterward, everything fell apart and we lost the game after a huge Mavericks run.

After the painful loss, we were made to wait for over an hour in the cold for the 4 bus back up into North Portland. Somehow, Tri-Met forgot that they were supposed to run buses. Still, there’s something to trying to strike up chitchat while dressed like Kris Kringle. It’s amazing how people stop trying to make jokes when a painful and convincing loss happens. Still, I know who to blame for all of this, and surprisingly enough, it’s not the referees.

I blame you, Grinch, for losing that for us. You were bad luck, and you stole the spotlight from not only me, but the awesome guys in the body suits. How dare you steal Christmas. When you steal from Santa, we all lose. You green bastard.

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