Editors Note: A holiday father-son interlude

Sometimes, everything comes out right.

The Rose Garden gleamed in the early darkness as the train raced east. My son and I had boarded in Hillsboro, near the western terminus of Portland’s light rail. It was Dec. 27, and we’d left the lingering family Christmas party at my brother’s house to indulge our longtime mutual interest: Blazermania.

Along the way, the train transformed from a suburban shuttle on the West Side to a metropolitan subway downtown. Basketball fans boarded, and so did some of the city’s hard cases, toting their packs and even a waving whisky bottle. Mass transit in all its glory. Our arrival at the arena station was timely, and as we entered the massive edifice we were enveloped in a little pocket of privilege.

We’d sprung for good seats about 15 rows behind one of the backboards, given up on the Internet by some season ticket-holder probably away for the holidays. But a Rose Garden connection led us to another locale – David and I spent the pregame and first half in an otherwise unoccupied luxury suite, enjoying gratis dinner and beverages. It was like plopping all the comforts of a private living room in the middle of 20,000-plus people. We even had our own bathroom!

When it comes to major league sports in Oregon, the Trail Blazers are the only game in town. And only a loyal fan would fully appreciate how cool this night was unfolding. That’s why I called my Dad and my brother to tell them where we were. For this I was later scorned by my sister, who said I should have acted like I belonged in such a lofty setting rather than behaving like a starry eyed hayseed. But what the heck.

By halftime, a few other folks with connections had gained access to our suite, so David and I moved on. We walked past the masses queuing up for their $7 beers and $5 hot dogs and settled contentedly into our original seats right on top of the game action.

Oh yes, the game. If you follow pro basketball you already know that the Blazers are blessed with young talent. This includes No. 1 draft pick Greg Oden, a towering phenom of immense potential. But he has struggled like any rookie learning pro ball, and that very morning a Portland newspaper columnist had written that Oden should be removed from the starting lineup. He responded by opening the game with perhaps his best sequence of the season, scoring 8 quick points on powerful slam dunks and, even more rewarding, some soft-touch shots that have been missing from his repertoire.

The second half belonged to a young Blazer already on his way to superstardom. Brandon Roy took over the game, and from our vantage point we could see the intense gleam in his eyes as he launched shots from all over the court.

 A 10-point Blazer deficit turned into a 10-point lead. We lent our shouts to the throng, rising en masse for impromptu ovations. Blazermania was back, and for one night David and I were in the thick of it.

He’s a 25-year-old with a business degree who works in a downtown Seattle high-rise. His father is a grizzled newspaperman who has landed on a remote, rain-soaked edge of the continent. We’ve been talking sports pretty much since he could talk at all.

We could feel Christmas vacation starting to fade as we squeezed into another light rail car that crossed the Willamette River, hit the downtown stations and then tunneled through the West Hills back toward Hillsboro. But we had plenty of new subject matter.