The crowd roared.
No. It didn’t just roar, it exploded, like a thousand, like a hundred-thousand cherry bombs going off inside a building with hard-edged walls and a ceiling that seem perfectly suited to capture the enormous sound, amplifying it even more as the waves cascade and reverberate here, there, everywhere.
That sound is like a Super Ball thrown in a shower stall. Thump-thump, thump-thump-thump.
Amid so many thumps, the Jazz welcomed back for the first time in well over a year what amounted to a full house at their initial semifinal playoff game against the Clippers on Tuesday night, and then again on Thursday night in Game 2.
Through and in the wake of a pandemic, the place had been mostly ghostly, mostly dark, mostly empty, then partially filled, then filled a little more, then, at last, full up again. And even with those limitations, the Jazz, after losing their first two home games, won their next 24 at Vivint. During the regular season, they had a league-best 31-5 home record. They’ve done their share of home winning in the playoffs here, too.
The racket wasn’t just noise, it was playoff noise. Not just playoff noise, but Utah Jazz playoff noise.
I’ve been trying to describe the sheer volume of that reverberation for 30 years now, but never have quite found the right words for it.
Does it sound like cherry bombs? Like a squadron of F-16s taking off from mid-court? Like a hundred cannons firing? Like 10 sonic booms? Like 50 sonic booms? Like a hundred troupes of Howler monkeys squawking and slamming trashcan lids together?
Beats me.
But what happens inside of Vivint Arena is extraordinary. I’ve covered a lot of NBA playoff games in a lot of NBA arenas. Only one or two of them have come close to matching the eruptive caterwauling, the uproarious boisterousness of the House That Larry Built.
Like a monster truck rally? Like a cache of nitroglycerin blasting through a mine? Like a Saturn V rocket launching? Like Krakatoa blowing?
I dunno.
But it usually works for the Jazz. That’s just one of the reasons they have an overwhelmingly positive home record through the years. But it’s a big reason, a display of emotion and — what? — care factor by the fans of the team.
There has been some attention brought to Jazz fans in recent times, negative attention that has lumped all of the team’s supporters together into one tiny view, a view of stupidity and belligerence and, yes, racism, emanating from a fistful of ignoramuses in the crowd. While those woeful souls should be — and have been — properly shown the door and had it slammed behind them, they are not a reflection of the masses.
And while some of the assemblage take their passion too far, even when it doesn’t cross over into obnoxious enunciations that would and should never be uttered in any other setting, or any setting at all, most fans here are just … loud.
And Jazz players are well aware.
Sometimes fans wonder if they really are being heard, no matter how much volume they conjure. They, like any human with ears, know they stir quite the cacophony. But they wonder if players who have grown accustomed to playing in the middle of commotion, really hear them, whether it makes any kind of difference in the outcome.
Well. Almost all of the Jazz have commented on how much they love playing in front of their insane … err, enthusiastic fans. They really do hear the racket and respond to it.
Donovan Mitchell once called the noise at Vivint Arena “unbelievable.”
Before Tuesday night’s game against the Clippers, Georges Niang and Jordan Clarkson said they love playing with the ear-splitting boost that comes in the Jazz’s home building.
“We get to play in a full arena,” Niang said. “Just the energy that’s brought back … it’s unreal. … I might be a little biased, playing at Vivint, but there’s no better place. The energy is electric, it’s loud, you can see other guys miscommunicate because it is so loud. It’s a huge advantage for us, especially how passionate our fans are. We may go on a little lull and they’re cheering us back. We make a three and the house explodes. As players, you love to have the fans’ support behind you. … I’m super excited for the rest of the playoffs.”
After Game 1 on Tuesday, a number of Jazz players looked around with a nod of appreciation for the fans who quite apparently love them back. Love, at 140 decibels.
Even Paul George, who Jazz fans shouted at in a manner that might be considered rough, if not rude, said: “I like it. That part doesn’t get to me. It’s all respect. I’ve had good games here, I’ve had bad games here. That’s part of this game. The crowd’s going to be involved. As an opposing player, you kind of want that. I just didn’t shoot the ball well.”
Not in Game 1.
But however the ball is shot by the Clippers, they know, whether they like it or not, what’s coming from outside the lines, their challenge complicated not only by what happens on the floor, but also in the stands.
They weathered the storm against the Mavericks in Dallas, winning all their games on the road in the first round. They obviously will not do that here.
Somebody once said, “Our house is clean enough to be healthy and dirty enough to be happy.”
All right then, that describes the Jazz’s home well enough.
A little dirty, a lot happy.
That’s how the Jazz see it, anyway.
GORDON MONSON hosts “The Big Show” with Jake Scott weekdays from 2-7 p.m. on 97.5 FM and 1280 AM The Zone, which is owned by the parent company that owns the Utah Jazz.
Follow @GordonMonson