Thank you, God. Love, a Cleveland Fan.

We were all exhausted, and we were too nervous to acknowledge it. Fourth quarter. Under two minutes remaining. In the back of our minds, there were two competing thoughts - "We're gonna win!" and "We're gonna blow it!" My mom took a sip of my beer. My mom never sips beer, especially Coors Light.

Game tied.

Shoot. It's a breakaway. Curry passes to Iguadola. Easy layup - Unless! James out of nowhere - like a radiant, massive gazelle. You gotta be kidding me! That's definitely going to be on sports science. No time to consider - we're still sick to our stomachs.

Kyrie at the top of the key. Him and Curry - mono a mono. He pulls up for the three. Swish!!! Holy cheese. Holy cheese. We're up by 3. Less than a minute. Okay. Keep it together. A lot could go wrong. Ball's in Curry's hands. Wow! Kevin Love playing D! Better late than never.

Curry with a ridiculous jump shot that has a miraculous 87% hit rate. Not this time!! Deep breath.

Twenty seconds and we're taking it up the floor. They have to foul James to get into the bonus. Cavs inbound. Kyrie dishes to James for the decisive dunk and - bahh no dice! But a foul. James lays on the floor with 10 seconds left. I think he was just soaking in the moment.

I double high five my sister. "Gail, I think we're gonna do this! This could really happen!" James misses the first. Makes the second. That's all we need. But four with 10 seconds isn't comfortable. They could hit a three, and we could foul. They could hit a layup, steal the inbound and score a tres for the win. Continue breathing.

Waariors inbound. Curry throws up a prayer. No foul! It misses!

BAHHHHHHH!!!! My niece and nephew jumped. Everyone hugged, high-fived, and said the words that none of us had been able to shout - "We're champions!"

This week, I sat on the couch watching game seven, extra innings. We were ahead in the series 3 - 1, and I ignored the pessimism. The map that showed every state but Ohio cheering for the Cubs; those who reminded me of irony and Cleveland's 1-3 comeback; those who touted the random statistic that the last time there were two NFL ties, the Indians lost the World Series in Game 7.* This was our year. Down two pitchers, down our best player, we were the real Cinderella story.

The runs on a passed ball, the two run homer, Lindor's third out in the ninth. It was destiny. Tying run is on second. Series ending run is at bat. Walk off homer. Right now.

And then, a groundout to third. Game over. Cubs win. Another game seven heartbreaker. People will tell me, "At least you lost to the Cubs,"* but that's not what brings me solace.

Twenty-eight-year-old was nearly as devastated as 9-year-old Anna, with one small exception. In the back of my mind, I remembered, "We are a city of champions."

I wrote you this prayer after the Cavs lost game four. I'm not sure how much of a role you played in the historic comeback, but for whatever role you did serve, thank you.

I'm currently taking a Management Organization course (the first class I missed because I was attending game six of the World Series), and a recent article discussed misaligned incentives. It provided many examples of areas in business and life where we ask for one thing and reward another, and As it relates to sports, the article claimed that while we promote team performance, we ultimately reward individual performance with scholarships, MVP accolades and the like.

I disagree. And I get it. There's are selfish, arrogant athletes who are only focused on themselves. But those exceptions aside, the ultimate reward, the prize that every athlete desires, more than individual prowess, is a championship. I imagine Lindor would give up his gold glove prospects for one more shot at the Cubbies.

My brother-in-law and dad coach the local high school football team that recently capped an undefeated season. They had the number one scoring offense in the state of Ohio, led by quarterback Benanati. When interviewed after the game, the quarterback did not speak to his individual performance, but humbly deferred credit. “If you saw the gaps, the holes that were open. I think they were 10 feet wide. It was just the blocking. Anyone could have done what I did tonight.” More than that, he's not satisfied with his stats - he, and everyone on the team - wants more.

Maybe that's what is so impressive - sports have figured out what businesses grapple with every day: how to award individual behavior while truly uniting everyone under the goal of a championship.

When the Cavs won, James didn't say, "This one's for me." He said, "This is for Cleveland." So thank you. For the excitement, the spirit, and the one thing that has eluded the Cleveland faithful for decades - a championship.*

* Seriously random statistic.
* How is that supposed to be comforting? We lost to a fan base from a city with three Stanley Cups and six NBA championships within the past 25 years that insists on crying about their one sports team suffering from title depravation.
* And then for reminding us we're still Cleveland with a game 7 loss.