If you’re a sports fan — and even if you’re not — you remember March 11, 2020.
A year ago, sports changed. And it all started in Oklahoma City.
For me, like many others, I’ll never forget where I was on that evening.
The memory has been ingrained in my mind in the same way that others remember exactly what they were doing when they heard the news that the Twin Towers fell or that their favorite celebrity died.
Driving in my hometown of Trinity — a small Randolph County town that borders High Point — I was on the phone with my roommate at the time, Alec, on my way to meet him at a local restaurant so we could catch up.
We were only a couple of days into spring break from UNC-Chapel Hill, but having not seen each other in 72 hours, it seemed necessary to fill each other in on the latest, as if our lives could change that drastically in the matter of a few days.
If we only knew.
As I passed over the railroad tracks near my home, my phone pinged with the notification that would mark an indefinite shift in the world of sports. It was a tweet from Shams Charania, lead NBA reporter for The Athletic, after a game in Oklahoma City between the Utah Jazz and the Oklahoma City Thunder had been delayed for what, until then, had been an unspecified reason.
“Utah Jazz All-Star Rudy Gobert has tested positive for coronavirus, sources tell @TheAthleticNBA @Stadium,” the tweet read.
There was the reason.
And just four minutes later, at 9:31 p.m., an even bigger bombshell from Charania: “The NBA has suspended its season.”
I broke the news to Alec, pulling my car over to process the information I had just learned, with each of us in shock on either end of the line.
My first thought: What’s going to happen to Rudy?
My second: What’s going to happen to sports?
Earlier in the day, the World Health Organization had officially deemed the coronavirus, which they recognized as COVID-19, a global pandemic. President Trump had put into effect the European travel ban. The NCAA had announced it would not host fans at the NCAA Tournament. There had been just over 1,000 confirmed cases in the United States.
And yet, it wasn’t until Charania’s tweets that the severity of the situation registered in my mind. The coronavirus had finally hit close to home. Though I’m not a Jazz fan nor have I ever stepped foot in Utah or spoken to Gobert in my life, having someone I “know” contract the virus felt surreal. And for that test to shut down the NBA, a multi-billion dollar organization, in just four minutes? There was no doubt this was serious.
As ridiculous — and selfish — as it sounds to say now, before that moment COVID-19 felt like a distant, slightly scary problem. Gobert’s positive test made it feel real, as did Tom Hanks’, which was announced just moments after Gobert’s. If a high-profile superstar could be infected, couldn’t we all?
In the hours and days that followed, I watched ESPN nearly non-stop for updates. My eyes were glued to Twitter, my ears locked on the voices of SportsCenter anchors filling airtime with news of cancellations, suspended seasons and positive test results.
Jazz star Donovan Mitchell tested positive the next morning, the only one of Gobert’s teammates to contract the virus at the time. Later, a video began circulating of Gobert touching nearly a dozen of reporters’ microphones during a press conference two days earlier, mocking the virus. Not a great look.
That one positive test had a mound of consequences.
Less than 24 hours after Gobert’s positive result, the NHL suspended its season, the MLB delayed the start of its season, each NCAA conference canceled its respective conference basketball tournament and the NCAA Tournament was called off.
March Madness took on a whole different meaning.
Gov. Roy Cooper didn’t put his first Stay-at-Home Order in place until March 27 — and it didn’t go into effect until March 30 — but the seriousness of the pandemic was felt weeks earlier. From that point on, many of us were bound to our homes. That was that.
It would take a Tolstoy-sized novel to document the feelings we’ve had, the events that have taken place and all of the craziness, heartache, boredom, grief, inspiration and tragedy we’ve endured as a county, a state, a nation and a planet since March 11.
Months passed with no professional sporting events. Athletes, just like the rest of us, conducted work via Zoom, including workouts and team meetings without in-person interaction. We passed time, seemingly as a nation, by watching documentaries like Netflix’s “Tiger King” and ESPN’s “The Last Dance” to fill the void. When sports returned, we saw championships won in “bubbles” and games played with virtual fans in attendance. We’ve witnessed star player after star player yield positive test results without the attention that Gobert received, now essentially becoming a weekly occurrence in professional and amateur sports locker rooms.
There have been heart-wrenching stories like that of Minnesota Timberwolves’ forward Karl-Anthony Towns, who has lost seven family members to the virus, including his mother, Jacqueline.
Or that of Laurent Duvernay-Tardif, a Kansas City Chiefs offensive lineman who, after helping them win the Super Bowl in February 2020, decided to put his doctorate in medicine to use by working on the front lines at a long-term care facility in Quebec.
A year later after that fateful night in Oklahoma City, sports are back in session as the pandemic rages on, vaccination numbers continue to rise and fans are slowly being allowed back into venues, such as the Carolina Hurricanes opening PNC Arena to 15% capacity on March 4.
Many parents have to watch their high school children play via live streams. Masks have to be worn by student-athletes during play. High school football is being played in February. And the list of oddities and necessary protocols goes on.
Sold-out arenas will return at some point, but that’s toward the bottom of the priority list.
Until then, we can use this anniversary of March 11 to reflect on the impact of the last year on both our psyche as sports fans and our lives as humans.
Think about what sports mean to you, how empty it felt without them here, which of your loved ones you’d like to take to next year’s Super Bowl if you won two tickets via a radio contest.
When you get a chance, sit down, turn on your T.V. and enjoy watching Steph Curry drain threes, Alex Ovechkin score goals, Fernando Tatis hit homers or mid-major Cinderella teams bust everyone’s brackets. Don’t take any of them for granted.
And for your own sanity, please turn off Shams Charania’s Twitter notifications. Just in case.
Reporter Victor Hensley can be reached at vhensley@chathamnr.com or on Twitter at @Frezeal33.