By Jeremy Brunner

I'm a cynic. I know. I am not impressed by much these days. I am convinced every baseball player who homers is on steroids. I am starting to think 90% of the NFL is either on roids, or bound for jail. I think many NBA players are overpaid whiners. Someone asked me about the NHL playoffs the other day, I asked them: 'the NHL still exists?'  Honestly, the number one reason I got into the business is for the free food.

Call me jaded if you like, but cynical is more accurate. That said, I was blown away by the moments in Wednesday's Jazz game. Okay, maybe just one moment. But what a moment it was. Derek Fisher catches a plane from New York, and arrives at the arena sometime after 8PM for a 7PM start. He never even sat on the bench. In the third quarter, Fisher just ran from the tunnel and checked into the game. The crowd went nuts. I got chills. I got goosebumps. I haven't got chills like that at a Jazz game since that one time some wacko threw a dead rat on the court. And I assure you, that was a entirely different kind of chill.

The Jazz fans in attendance gave Fisher the loudest ovation I can remember. It was heartfelt and sincere, and even the hardcore cynic was into it. Knowing the makeup of the state of Utah, there were certainly a lot of parents in the arena, but you didn't need to be a parent to feel for Fisher. Four days with doctors. Pretty much no sleep. His daughter had surgery the same day, beginning early in the morning in New York(6:30AM) and lasting until after 4PM. Then he hopped on a charter plane(with his wife and daughter Tatum(straight from surgery!)) and flew back to SLC. Fish got a police escort shuttle him to the arena. It was an emotional night for the Jazz and the Fishers, and a storybook ending. Like pretty much everyone else, I was blown away by the experience. Someday, I will tell my grandkids I was at that game.

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