Farnsworth: I Missed Stockton’s Shot To Go On A Date
May 29, 2019, 5:49 PM | Updated: May 29, 2020, 1:31 pm
Matthew Stockman/Getty Images
SALT LAKE CITY, Utah – I don’t care who you are or where you are from, if you are a Utah Jazz fan you know exactly where you were and what you were doing when John Stockton sent the Jazz to their first ever NBA Finals 22 years ago today.
My story is one that would leave most Jazz fans hanging their heads with shame.
On May 29, 1997 I was 18 years old and in love. I loved the Utah Jazz. A team that was on the brink of history. But on that same day as I settled in to watch Game 6 of the Western Conference Finals with my dad and brothers I did so knowing that soon I would be joined by my girlfriend. And I knew she wouldn’t want to watch the game.
Shortly into the first quarter she arrived. The Jazz fell behind early and played from behind for most of the game. I was convinced that a team that had a 38-3 regular season home court record would return to Salt Lake City and win game seven later in the week. So I left during the first half to take my date to dinner.
Where were you when Stockton hit The Shot? #TakeNote #TeamIsEverythinghttps://t.co/xgUKtI1IJr
— KSL Sports (@kslsports) May 29, 2019
With a full stomach and satisfied I had made the right decision, I walked in the door at my home to see the shocked and excited looks on my brother and dad’s faces. Not even the Southwestern Skillet with pancakes at Village Inn would make me feel better for what I missed.
“Sam! You just missed it. John Stockton made a three at the buzzer to win the game.”
My brother Joe was never good at sarcasm. I instantly told him he was wrong and looked to my dad only to hear him confirm what my brother had just said. I turned to the TV where I saw replay after replay after replay of Stockton’s game winning shot.
I missed it all. I missed the shot. I missed the celebration. I missed Stockton, Hornacek and Malone in their mid-court embrace. I instantly regret the decision to leave the living room to begin with.
The biggest moment in Jazz history happened as I was polishing off a short stack of flap jacks.
Where were you when Stockton hit the shot? I hope you weren’t at dinner with a date.
