The Sacramento Kings lost their playoff series. A city — and a family — grieve together
On the ride back up the hill just a few hours later, the mournful music on the stereo was periodically pierced by Danielle snapping at other drivers. She and her two siblings were otherwise silent.
The Kings, in Game 5 of the playoff series, had lost 123-116. It was becoming more likely that the team, who just ended their 16-season NBA playoff drought, would flame out in the first round. And though the Kings rallied in Game 6 and forced a seventh matchup, their triumphant run ended in sorrow when the team lost 120-100 Sunday.
The beleaguered fans had rallied together to cheer their team. Now, they grieve together, too. It’s a funny kind of loss — as Danielle put it, “worse than heartbreak.”
And in the Cowbell Kingdom, she said, all that suffering turns into something unexpected: joy.
A long wait for a playoff game
Danielle, 26, flew in from Baltimore April 25 to watch Game 5 with her younger brother and sister. Along with their oldest sister, Talline, the Awabdeh kids were raised in a family of fervid fans, and they had all been waiting for years for the Kings to be good again. The three of them had to be there in person.
“Obviously, I’ve never been to a playoff game before,” said Danielle, who was 9 in 2006 when the Kings were in the Western Conference Finals the last time. She seized the moment, and they sprung for the pricey tickets. When they got to the stadium, everything felt electric.
“Golden 1 is always super hyped,” Danielle said, but Game 5 was different. “I’ve never experienced it that dramatic and that loud. … That energy was so real, and so alive.”.
The game was close for most of play, and for much of that time, Danielle and her siblings were elated. The Kings score, and Danielle’s heart races, her hands shake, she’s full of happiness and pride.
“When something good happens — standing up and screaming and cheering and then having this whole arena of 17,000 people doing the same thing, from the simple shots to the cool shots,” she said, “it’s so unifying. It feels like you’re with your people.”
Emotions in this playoff run were heightened, she said, because “we’ve all been waiting for this for so long.”
The entire experience of a Kings fan, she said, filters through the prism of loss: “When you’ve experienced a lot of lows,” she said, “it makes the highs so much better, and it makes the mediums feel like highs.”
Moreover, she said, “As a kings fan, as I said before, we kind of have to be a little — a little sprinkle of delusional. Or optimistic, I’ll say optimistic.”
In Game 5, up until the last few minutes, it seemed as if the Kings could still pull ahead.
And then, they simply didn’t.
Moving on from grief
The siblings had slumped out of the arena.
The trio was despondent outside Golden 1 Center after the April 26 game. “Can we not do an interview right now,” said Edward, not really asking. He is the youngest sibling at just 18, and his face was ashen. Rachel, 23, stood next to him with a grim smile. Danielle seemed less heartbroken, only, she said, because she hides it better.
The next day, before Game 6, Danielle had gained a little distance and clarity. “Just being so close and knowing that we’re — this might be biased, but I think that we definitely were a better team than them,” Danielle said. “I think our play is better. And so it’s just frustrating to see it not land, or just not have the outcome you want it to have.”
They had a mostly quiet car ride. At one point, Rachel pulled up postgame interviews with Coach Mike Brown and De’Aaron Fox. “They both said similar things: that the Kings can succeed when our back’s against the wall,” Danielle said. “Hearing them say that felt really comforting because if their hope is not lost, and they literally just played the game, then our hope can’t be lost either.”
They went home, where their parents, Sue and Joel, had already slinked upstairs to their bedroom, to avoid facing their bereft children. The three Awabdeh siblings couldn’t sleep in that frame of mind, so they traipsed into Danielle’s bedroom. The sisters sat on either side of the bed and Edward sat in the desk chair, and they watched postgame interviews and highlights from Game 2 of the series, when the Kings beat the Warriors 114-106.
“That,” she said, “is our favorite game. And I think that’s when the Kings definitely played their best. So that’s our comfort game.”
Danielle kicked her siblings out after midnight. “We pulled ourselves back up.” They started looking to the future, she said — to “a new game.”
They were full of anxiety and hope going into Game 6, which they watched at their family home with their parents. They were elated when the team won — shrieking at the TV. For Game 7, the siblings scored tickets, daring to hope for another sweet victory.
But the Kings quickly ended the playoff run that surprised and delighted an entire region, losing to the defending champions. Danielle was crestfallen, but also, she said, “so proud.”
Because even as the Kings were losing, Danielle had already started to appreciate just how sweet it was to be there at all.
“No matter what happens, the fact that we got here and were really holding our own weight and creating a competitive series,” she said, “it’s such an accomplishment for Sacramento, for the Kings. It feels like a success already.”
