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It was that magical time of the year last Thursday  -- the one and only day when the dream girl, Candace Parker, came to New York to play at Madison Square Garden. Much like last time, there was a bit of uncertainty over her playing status (she'd been out with a uterus for the entire season), and I didn't think I'd go in the days leading up to game night.  Somehow, it all worked out when I miraculously bribed convinced Michelle, who as we previously established, is much cooler than me, to go to the game.  I woke up early on Thursday morning, put on my lucky deodorant (that's right, I have a lucky deodorant), and tried my best to stay calm.

Right off the bat, I discovered there's a thin line between showing your devotion as a fan and coming off as a creepy stalker, especially when you're with a girl who you're attempting to impress with your sense of humor and irresistible charm.  Michelle took a few pictures of Candace shooting around before the game (my own picture-taking skills leave much to be desired), as well as a couple of me against the Garden backdrop.  As much as I want to say that she had to convince me to take a picture with Maddie, the Liberty mascot, I thought it would be kinda cute and jumped in the photo.  Turns out I was right.

A few other in-game highlights:

• I wondered out loud whether Shelden Williams was in the building, and Michelle replied that he was in the mascot costume.  There's no way I can ever top that one.
  
  
• Michelle's favorite player became Tina Thompson, when she saw that Thompson played basketball in full make-up.  More on this later.
  
  
• We watched fantastic performances from the Timeless Torches, the Liberty's elderly dance squad, and Air Shelden Maddie, who somehow earned a standing ovation for what started out as an embarrassingly bad dance routine.
  
  
• Oh, and the Sparks won or something.

We waited for Candace by the team bus after the game with a large group of fans.  She stood 30 feet away, holding her baby and chatting with her husband for 40 minutes, and eventually waived and boarded the bus.  We (or I), however, managed get autographs from Michael Cooper, the first and hopefully only Laker signature I'll ever have, and Tina Thompson, who Michelle said should've signed her name in lipstick (high comedy).

Michelle and I exchanged stories about meeting our favorite athletes on the way back (her Dan Marino one trumps any of my Kings encounters).  As we made our way down 6th Avenue, I couldn't help but feel disappointed, much less about the Candace snub than about whether Michelle would ever want to see me again after my craziness was on full display.  We reached her apartment and started to say our goodbyes.  And well...I'm a gentleman, but let's just say that my questions were answered, despite my best efforts to make the situation as awkward as humanly possible (my area of expertise).  Good times.

I walked home smiling the entire way, realizing that should've known all along -- the lucky deodorant never fails.