Sixers Fans Should Be Proud of Themselves Today

A lot of fanbases would've booed. 

The Philadelphia 76ers lost last night to the New Orleans Pelicans, in a game they probably should have won and certainly shouldn't have let slip away as they did. Somehow a couple second-quarter turnovers turned into a 42-point frame for the Pellies, and the Sixers never quite recovered. Joel Embiid was limited by foul trouble, our perimeter guys weren't making shots, and Anthony Davis finally turned it on late, powering New Orleans to a 108-93 victory. 

But I don't really care about any of that this morning. I care about what happened in the game's third quarter, when Joel had to ride the bench with his fourth foul, and Jahlil Okafor's energy started to dip. All of a sudden, a roar emerged from the Wells Fargo Center crowd, as Nerlens "Out of the Rotation" Noel prepared to check in for the first time since last Friday's game against the Lakers. The cheering was of the level usually reserved for our #21, and extended to each thing Nerlens did well in his seven minutes of game time: Not a tremendously long list, but one that encompassed four points, three boards, and a mini-Sixers comeback that New Orleans ultimately headed off at the pass. 

A lot of fanbases would've booed, and no one would've really blamed them for it. A malcontent making things harder for his front office with his unpredictable behavior and needlessly public grumbling? One who's never been involved with a winning team, and can on occasion be an extremely frustrating on-court watch? Describe that situation to any national sports fan and tell them he plays for a Philadelphia team, and you can be damn sure they would've expected us to boo. But we didn't boo -- far from it -- and I can't remember many times when I've been prouder to be a Sixers fan. 

I'm not a booing guy. Well, that's not true -- I love booing. I love booing rival teams and players, I love booing fan participants in timeout competitions when they obviously suck (or just don't understand the rules), and when the situation really warrants it, I love booing our management or front-office personnel. But I never understood the point of booing our own players: What's it supposed to accomplish? All it does is ensure that whatever confidence our guys have left is shot, and further the general distrust between player and city. It's a selfish thing for a fan to do, all about instant gratification, with no thought for the long-term harm it might do to our team and franchise. 

And there are some moments were a well-placed ovation just makes all the difference. Cheering Nerlens as we did last night basically said everything that Sixers fans want to say -- should want to say -- to The Eraser. It says look, we know this situation f---ing sucks, but don't think we've forgotten about you. We remember how good you are, and we remember how much you've done for us the last three years. We know what's being asked of you right now is unfair, but please hold on and give us time to make it better. Until then, we've still got your back. 

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This shit matters, and it matters to players like Nerlens. Not like he's going to get to restricted free agency and tell his agent "Y'know, the rotation doesn't have minutes for me and their management kinda treated me like an exploding appendix, but those Sixers fans were so darn nice that one time -- let's re-sign for whatever!" But it gives him a reason to generally give a crap about doing well for the Philadelphia 76ers franchise, to associate a positive memory with the organization to hopefully counter-balance all the negative ones. It gives him a reason to hold on. And based on his post-game comments, it's pretty clear that he was touched by the moment: 

As was JoJo: 

Look, there's only so much we can do as fans to have our voice heard within a franchise. We don't get to vote on personnel moves, we don't get to veto depth chart adjustments, and we certainly don't get to decide which steps of The Process we want to go along with. But we can literally have our voice heard live in key on-court moments, and that's a pretty powerful thing. Last night, the oft-maligned sports-viewing contingent of Philadelphia took a moment that could've gotten really ugly, and turned it into something positive and beautiful. A lot of fans would've booed, but we cheered. It's a Festivus miracle no one should forget about anytime soon.

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