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My hyperbolic post on the Trailblazers four months ago prompted me to stay awake late Saturday night to watch the team's first home playoff game in years, against the Houston Rockets. The Blazers sure crumbled, losing 108-81, in a game that was never close after the first six minutes.

Nonetheless, I watched through much of the third quarter because the Blazers' crowd was amazing. Even when the Blazers were behind by 25 points, the fans cheered "Defense" with such ferocity, it was as though the team had rallied to take the lead. That, combined with the players' youthful cool and vigor, made me think a comeback was always just around the corner, when the Rockets' boring experience always suggested otherwise. It made me wonder if the Celtics' fans would ever bring the same optimistic thunder to a game that the team was losing by so much, and my answer was an emphatic "No." Bostonians and Northeasterners are too quick to reach a judgment -- whether it's a dismissal or a coronation. It made me want to move to Portland.

And then yesterday was Patriots Day, perhaps the best day in all of Boston. Not only did this one have the extra excitement of the Celtics and Bruins winning fantastic playoff games (though I only care about the former), but there were the two athletic staples: the Sox's 11 a.m. game and the Boston Marathon. I've written plenty before about how I don't like rooting for the Sox, but there's something wonderfully quaint about a game starting in the morning, like you're heading to your children's Little League game.

Standing along the Marathon route, which I've done professionaly for two consecutive years now, is also thrilling. Even at relatively anonymous parts of the race, such as downtown Ashland, Mass., the crowds are thick and boisterous. People are excited and clearly enjoy having the race run through their town. Overall, there's something very unusual about being a spectator at a marathon: Tens of thousands of people run past you; you don't know them and only see them for a few seconds each; and this continues for about 20 minutes, yet you find yourself clapping and hollering for almost all of them. I do it out of the sheer awe of running a marathon. Competing in one is a level of personal dedication and discipline that is rare. Well, as rare as can be for something that probably at least a million people do each year.

It made me very excited about Boston again.

Update: Bill Simmons' classic guide to the Boston Marathon needs to be acknowledged here. It's spot-on accurate, though it now starts at 10 a.m. instead of noon, so move forward his schedule by two hours, and very funny, though perhaps funnier if you've actually been in the race crowd.