There are many things which people from Chicago are good at: eating deep-dish pizza, turning Lake Michigan green on St. Patrick's day and improv, just to name a few.
They have many claims to fame, ranging from Al Capone to Wrigley's gum.
However, people from Chicago are darn good at cheering for basketball games from courtside seats. That is what we at On Fire want to talk about this week.
The Miami Heat have been on a roll lately. Behind LeBron James and Dwayne Wade, they won 27 games in a row.
But the streak snapped on Wednesday night. The Chicago Bulls defended their home court and brought the second-longest winning streak in NBA to a close.
And no one was happier than the people from Chicago sitting in the courtside seats.
They say that a picture is worth 1000 words. Well, in the next 600 words, your On Fire correspondent is going to do his (or her) best to communicate the pure joy and feeling of utter triumph that the people from Chicago in courtside seats are showing in a picture taken right after the victory.
In the center of the picture stands a person from Chicago. His hair is gray and cut short. His shirt is blue, collared and buttoned up. His left wrist has a fancy watch on it, and his left hand has a wedding ring on it and holds a plastic cup filled with either water, lemonade, vodka or some combination thereof.
His legs are clad in black slacks and spread in a power stance. His right hand is clenched and raised in a fist pump of triumph. His forehead is furrowed, his eyebrows are raised and his mouth emits a primal scream.
This Chicagoan is seriously pumped up.
Behind him stands another guy from Chicago. This man is seriously confused. He is also wearing a fancy button-down collared shirt, but, in a courageous act of mixing things up, his is white.
Looking at his face, and you would think this guy is terrified of something – maybe that his wife will see this picture and realize that he was not working late at all, maybe that someone will make fun of his glasses or maybe that his face will betray any hint of emotion.
But this guy still has passion. His stoic face cannot prevent your intrepid On Fire correspondent from observing the joy he feels at victory. His right hand is raised – not in a fist pump, like white guy number one, but extended straight up towards the heavens.
At first glance, it seems like he is pointing one finger in the air, symbolically saying "We are number one."
But your On Fire correspondent never settles for at first glance. Upon closer inspection, and with a little zooming, one can clearly see that this guy is raising two fingers in the air.
Peace, he is saying to us. There is something profound in that statement. But let us not overthink this guy too much. There is more people from Chicago joy to look at.
To his right are two guys engaged in a tender, touching moment of bro-love at their shared joy.
Wearing what sbnation.com has assumed to be, correctly in our opinion, Cherokee-brand shirts, they are standing up, turned towards each other and screaming in each other's faces.
Do not say that these guys do not have passion.
At the far end a person from Chicago in a Heat jersey sits dejected.
You cannot win them all though, as they say. Not all people from Chicago can share in this moment of pure joy.
And then, saving the best for last, there is the creepy guy in the bottom-right corner.
His mouth is half-open, and his teeth seem to be fairly well taken care of. The same cannot be said for his hair, since he is bald.
Nor for his right hand, which is clenched together is a fist.
But whereas Chicagoan number one was standing in a power stance and emitted strength and intensity from every fiber of his being, your On Fire correspondent cannot help but think that this guy's wrist is about to collapse under the weight of his hand.
Your lonely On Fire correspondent can recommend a good way to increase wrist strength, but it would not be appropriate to print in the pages of this distinguished newspaper.
Suffice it to say, people from Chicago, we love the passion.
