I supported you when names like the dinos or the towers were being debated. I would've worn either jersey proudly. It was finally announced, my love affair would be called the Toronto Raptors. First home skydome until finally the ACC. On school trips we toured the locker rooms and touched the wood paneled courts. Whether it was Mighty Mouse, Junkyard Dog, Stripes or salami and cheese I cheered. When the seats were half empty and quiet, I cheered with my flag in hand waving proudly either purple, red or black. Before RTZ, fireworks in the intros or catchy campaigns, we were there. When Carter made everyone's jaw drop with one all star dunk, I cheered. When he missed that playoff bucket, my heart sank watching the ball slowly circle the rim only to fall out. But I cheered anyway. Little did I know the beginning of our next playoff squad was waiting for us in the 2013-2014 season; Masai was quietly rebuilding. All the while chemistry forming on the courts and in the locker rooms or when traveling at away games. The men in suits and the ball players were contemplating how to be a team worthy of a city now being called the 6. It didn't matter if it was Detroit, Brooklyn or Indianapolis, I was in the stands supporting our team that pushed so hard, all the way into the Fourth. Even Masai was putting the money where his mouth is in support. Our team was ready to take the Atlantic division by storm. Luck they said. It'll be over soon, they said. Stats left and right shooting us down. Nothing but a fluke. Quietly those voices were silenced as our team proved over and over why we're a team that deserved the respect we were demanding. We the North was finally forming. In droves we came, filling Jurassic park effortlessly. Crossing the border didn't deter us, no matter how this season ends, the fans are here to stay. Purple, red or black, we'll continue to cheer proudly. Your faithful Raptors fan, cheering circa 1995. 🏀