Being a virtual NBA fan inside the bubble is a taste of normalcy in a year when we need it

Our writer got to join Nuggets fans “inside” the bubble.

There was no 10-day quarantine necessary. No daily COVID-19 tests, no social distancing separating my seat at least six feet away from others.

For one three-hour stretch, I was inside the NBA bubble in Orlando. And it felt so good.

As you probably guessed, I wasn’t actually there in Disney World, watching the Denver Nuggets and Utah Jazz go basket-for-basket in an epic Game 1 of their opening-round NBA playoff series. Thanks to technology and access from the league, I was one of the many fans able to “attend” the game on an LED screen virtually, and it turns out I picked a pretty amazing game to watch thanks to Donovan Mitchell and Jamal Murray.

This all began when I heard the NBA partnered with Microsoft to put together sections of fans — along with some celebrities and basketball legends — to cheer on the teams playing, displaying groups of die-hards on LED boards that those inside the arena could see.

So I asked the league if I could join in, and they gave me a virtual ticket to a playoff game of my choosing. As a Nikola Jokic stan, I threw on the only brown t-shirt I could find and joined a section of Nuggets fans.

On Monday, the NBA sent me lengthy instructions on how to log on to Microsoft Teams and access the game I was invited to. Once I got through, I was able to pin the streaming broadcast — which was about 20 seconds behind the televised feed — on one side of my laptop and see my group on the other.

I’ll admit: the sight of fans in those grey “seats” on broadcasts looked a little goofy as I began watching games in the bubble. But once you’re a part of the “crowd” you realize the technology is astounding, giving the illusion that a bunch of fans from all over the country are kinda, sorta together again. And that was the theme of the afternoon: even if it was an illusion, it was better than nothing.

The room was one of many Nuggets and Jazz fan sections. It was manned by IT staffers there to help in case of technology problems and moderators who made sure there was no foul language, no objectionable signs held up or offensive attire. As part of my “ticket,” I received an acknowledgement and authorization form with specific instructions that I would act in good taste. Failure to follow those instructions could result in getting booted from my seat.

There was also a note about staying on screen throughout the game. An “extended absence” could result in my seat getting reassigned. I was nervous about going to the bathroom at halftime, but our moderators informed us pre-game that it would be best that if we left for a little bit to turn off our camera and then came back. Bathroom breaks are okay!

My setup looked like this:

 

At 1:30 p.m. Eastern, it was game time. My section included some young fans, a baby on a lap, and my row neighbor, a very enthusiastic dude in a Mickey Mouse sweater who I couldn’t keep my eyes off of with his outlandish reactions to the game action that wouldn’t be out of place inside the Pepsi Center.

Our section stayed mostly muted so we could hear the ESPN broadcast. But in the spirit of this experiment — and given the fact that my last NBA game attended as a fan was a Celtics win over the Knicks in December — I joined in clapping when starting lineups were announced; it’d been a long time since I could even pretend to be part of a boisterous crowd and it felt good. I held up my arms when Murray, Jokic or any Nugget attempted a three. I cursed when Mitchell kept hitting shot after shot (but I was muted! It was fine!).

It was still as weird as you might expect. Since there wasn’t much chatter out loud or on our chat room, there was a lot of miming disappointment or excitement. In the second quarter, ESPN cameras panned to the LED screens courtside, where I saw packed “seats” with fans going nuts in Nuggets attire. Was it just my section, which we were soon informed was on the side of the arena where the Jazz shot free throws, that wasn’t as vocal or effusive?

When we learned we could be seen when the Jazz shot from the line, the moderator suggested something she had seen in previous games: we could move our head forward and backwards toward our cameras for a distracting effect. Our section tried that and some arm-waving, and sure enough, Rudy Gobert missed a pair of shots from the charity stripe with under two minutes to go in the second. Did we really make a difference? Probably not. But that possibility made me feel like I was actually in the arena, making a difference, even if I knew that Gobert almost certainly wasn’t staring at our undulating faces.

It was only during that unreal fourth quarter that some fans who joined our section late turned on their mics and started pleading for a Denver win. They also asked if we’d been seen on camera, and one of the young fans excitedly exclaimed he’d seen himself twice. If I was about 30 years younger, I would have LOVED this experience, especially seeing myself on the broadcast, which is a huge perk of being a virtual fan. If the youngs love it, it’s a good thing for the league and its brand.

(AP Photo/Ashley Landis, Pool)

As I watched Murray go on his heater and the intensity in our “room” was ratcheted up, that’s when it felt like some semblance of an arena atmosphere, with fans glued to the action and chattering out loud together.

At that moment, 2020 melted away. It was playoff basketball featuring two players who couldn’t be stopped, even in overtime, with people united by their love of the teams sitting side by side — virtually, of course. Few things have united us in these divisive times, but we were, for those moments, together.

And that really was the takeaway. Yes, there were times it felt gimmicky and maybe a little forced. But I got to watch a game with a group of fans that were seen by professional athletes who are used to the noise and atmosphere of a packed arena. Call it corny or whatever you’d like.

But for a few hours, even a little taste of normalcy is comforting.

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