That is how I felt after Game 4 Monday night.

Total disbelief. I had already decided about a third of the way through the fourth quarter that the series was over and there was just no way we could get past these Spurs.

We’re not disciplined enough on defense. That kept killing us all night. The Suns don’t double Duncan, yet when he’s out, suddenly the Spurs get wide open threes because we’re laying off them.

Why? No discipline.

Yet somehow, someway, the Suns won this game.

It’s still hard to believe.

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Okay, so yesterday felt bleak. When you have gotten “this” close as many times as the Suns have, you tend to grow pessimistic after awhile.

Also doesn’t help that I’m an Arizona Cardinals fan. If anything will tear out your optimistic side and squash it all over the floor, it’s that team.

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I live and die with the Suns every year.

I’ve been a fan for all 32 years and three months of my life. From a kid watching Larry Nance, to seeing Majerle booed, to KJ and Tom Chambers running the break, to Barkley bringing the winning spirit back, to John fraking Paxson hitting the three, to the Steve Nash era, I’ve been there.

And I’ve never loved the team more than I do this year. We have a two-time MVP. We have a 1st team All-Defensive player. We have Amare Stoudemire who is a sight to behold. We have Shawn Marion, who still remains my favorite player despite how much he frustrates me. We have Leandro Barbosa, who makes me want to hug him and cry when he talks about his Momma and family in Brazil being followed by people who want to kidnap them for ransom.

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