Nelson Rodriguez has rooted for the Clippers his entire life, but the fandom of the Santa Ana resident was out of “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.”
The 37-year-old never owned an article of the team’s clothing growing up, or even as an adult. He can only keep up with them on social media since Nelson doesn’t subscribe to Bally Sports or the NBA’s streaming service. The financial planner works in an office of Lakers fans. His wife, Cynthia, only cares for the Dodgers when it comes to sports.
And until I took my dear friend to the Clippers home game Monday night against the Miami Heat, Nelson had never seen his team in person.
“I don’t know anyone besides you who’d want to go,” he said as we drove up to the Intuit Dome from Orange County around 4 that afternoon. We left early so we could grab a bite to eat at Con’i Seafood, then wander around the new arena. “If it was Lakers, you’d have 20 hands go up. If I said, ‘Let’s go to an Angels game,’ people would want to go.
“But,” he concluded with a pained smile, “it’s the Clippers.”
His dad, a Salvadoran immigrant, taught him to love the team while Nelson was growing up in Buena Park. He stuck with them through the Clippers’ lost years of the 1990s and 2000s because “I love going for the underdog. When you’re an Angels fan, it’s easy. The Lakers were always the cool option. They get enough praise. They get the famous fans. We get Billy Crystal.”
Nelson’s devotion paid off with the Lob City years, whose trademark dunking and slashing with players like Blake Griffith, DeAndre Jordan and Chris Paul “is how the NBA should be played.” He was further drawn in with the 2019 signing of his favorite basketball player, Kawhi Leonard.
“He beat the [Golden State] Warriors with the [Toronto] Raptors single-handedly and shut up those bandwagon fans,” he cracked as we enjoyed aguachile and fish chicharrones at Con’i. When I asked what he liked about Leonard, Nelson replied, “He’s super quiet, but laser-focused and lets his actions speak for him.”
Very much like Nelson, come to think of it.
I asked how the Clippers’ season was going as we made the five-minute drive from Con’i to Intuit Dome.
“Good, considering Kawhi has been out for so long. The fact the rest of the team was able to hold it down, that makes the rest of the season promising.”
We finally got to the arena, which we both agreed looked like the ARTIC train and bus station in Anaheim. Music was blasting. People shot baskets at two courts near the entrance. A dance crew dressed in gray jogging suits did their thing. Nelson stared at it all and just grinned.
“Look at how clean everything is,” he said, referring to the design scheme. “That’s one of the reasons I never really wanted to go to a game, either. I once went to a concert at Staples Center. It was ugly.”
Nelson made his way to a spot where we could look down at the Clippers practice facility, where a solitary player was practicing. “Amir Coffey!” Nelson exclaimed. “He’s a hustler.”
Our seats, which were a Christmas surprise from Cynthia to her husband, were the nosebleeds of the nosebleeds.
“That’s where the real fans are, anyways,” he said with a laugh. Nelson then pointed to a section of seats behind one end of the court far below us.
“That’s called ‘the Wall.’ You have to go through this process and you really have to be a Clippers fan to sit there. They ask you things like who’s your favorite player, how many years have you rooted for them — it’s like a quiz. [Clippers owner] Steve Ballmer wanted a space for the real ones.”
Cynthia tried to buy tickets for the Wall but didn’t pass muster in time.
Nelson nursed a margarita and held on to a Clippers sweatshirt I bought him; I downed my double Jack Daniels. It was Korean Heritage Day, so the arena played Psy, BTS and Blackpink while flashing all sorts of lights.
It was game time.
The Clippers came onto the court wearing black-and-white T-shirts that read “LA Strong.” It was their first home game since the devastating Pacific Palisades and Eaton fire that brought ruin to tens of thousands of Southern Californians. Public address announcer Eric Smith mentioned the disasters and their “unfathomable devastation” in a short speech, but the few fans who showed up — attendance was announced at a generous 13,119 — wanted to focus on something else for a few hours, at least.
Nelson booed the Heat as they were introduced, and applauded when it was the turn of his squad. Leonard was nowhere to be seen. “He doesn’t seem to be playing today,” Nelson said with disappointment.
Then Leonard ran onto the court.
“He’s playing!” Nelson shouted.
That would be as joyful as he’d be for the first half.
Leonard looked rusty. The Heat were raining down three-pointers. Nelson groaned when the Clippers turned over the ball and shook his head when they missed easy shots. Mostly, he stayed quiet. He was enraptured. He never checked his phone once.
At halftime, with the Clippers down 48-43, I asked how he liked watching a game in person.
“It’s really nice,” he replied. “Live, you really get into the flow of things. And it’s such an amazing view.”
I was happy he was happy, but was afraid my compa’s first game would be a blowout loss. Then the Clippers came alive.
Center Ivica Zubac kept grabbing rebounds and muscling his way toward dunks to fans growling “Zuuuuub.” James Harden scored 13 points in the third quarter as the Clippers clawed back from a 17-point deficit. Nelson began to clap louder. His head bobbed with the music. When small forward Norman Powell did a shake-and-bake before hitting a three to give the Clippers a lead they never relinquished, Nelson yelled “Ohhhh!”
We cheered and booed throughout the fourth quarter, and even mooed as part of a Chik-fil-A promotion that promises free chicken sandwiches to all attendees if an opposing player misses back-to-back free throws in the fourth quarter. When the game ended with the Clippers on top, 109-98, Nelson sat back for a bit and basked in the moment.
“Beautiful,” he finally proclaimed. He put on his sweatshirt so I could take a photo with the Clippers court behind him, then we left Intuit.
“That was really good,” Nelson said as we walked through the chilly Inglewood night. “All I can think of right now is, ‘When am I gonna come back?’”
He explained how tonight was a typical Clippers victory this season: “They’ll be up, then they start to get behind, then they hustle back to win but give their fans freaking anxiety. But Kawhi is going to get better. The Clippers are going to get better. It’s going to be good this year.”
We drove back to Orange County, and agreed to attend another game this season. The following day, I hung out with Cynthia and she told me how ecstatic Nelson was.
“He even wore his sweatshirt to work,” she said with knowing eyes. “And I said, ‘Is that appropriate?’ And he said, ‘Of course it is!’”
We’ve got the Wall next time, Compa Nelson. Zuuuuub.
