Perhaps you are unaware of the Lithuanian branch of the Nuggets fan family. This is possible if: a) You did not know any Lithuanians lived in Colorado, or b) You are a new fan, a member of the bandwagon, a Johnny-come-lately or, as the Lithuanians would have it, a Jonas-atejo- veliau.
Finally, of course, there is: c) You thought Linas Kleiza was Ukrainian.
“A lot of Americans get confused, you know, Romanian, Ukrainian, Lithuanian,” says Romas Zableckas, who, in his official capacity, is president of the several-hundred-member strong Lithuanian-American Community of Colorado. In his less official, but no less important, role, he is one of the loudest cheerleaders of the Nuggets in general, and fellow countryman Kleiza in particular.
He is doing both these jobs when he is not playing music as he was doing, alas, Wednesday night, and so he missed Linas the Menace reminding everyone why he’s worth hanging onto.
Coach Karl singled him out for praise after the game, I tell Zableckas. I do not say I missed most of Kleiza’s play because a game as close as Wednesday’s is a game I must watch in doses or risk a coronary.
“Oh, I am jealous now that I did not see it,” he says, groaning. “I hope they’re not going to sell Kleiza now.”
He tells me to call Naras Gruzdys, another big fan and vice president of the Lithuanian-American group.
Did you watch the game?
“Oh, yeah! Definitely! I get my blood pressure high by watching this game. Kleiza, during the playoff, he didn’t play a lot. But he did great last night. Four 3-pointers. Eight or nine rebounds. I was proud. Nobody expected that the Nuggets can do it. I think they’re going to make it.”
Now we’re talking.
It is a mistake to describe a true sports fan, or, if you will, a rabid fan, as one possessing mindless devotion. There is nothing mindless about it. Such devotion requires commitment, which requires discipline, order. The mind of a true fan has no room for ambivalence. For fuzziness. It is cold and hot. Stats and face paint. Strategy and smackdown.
The mind of a Lithuanian basketball fan, well, that includes love and country. Courtship and kinship.
“We just call it a second religion,” Gruzdys says.
“If you are Lithuanian, you are a basketball fan,” Zableckas says.
You do not believe them? You think you can outfan a Lithuanian basketball fan when a Lithuanian player is on the court sinking a sweet three? Check out YouTube. Search word: Kleizamania. There they are: The section of the audience wearing T-shirts of yellow, green and red, the colors of the Lithuanian flag.
“That’s the loudest group I have ever heard,” a commentator says before sending a reporter to find out who the heck they are.
Seventy-three Lithuanians cheering, dancing, waving placards that spell the name Kleiza, holding three banners aloft, one yellow, one green, one red, so that from afar it looks like the Lithuanian flag. Gruzdys’ wife, Inga, sewed the banners.
Why not just use a flag, I ask. I am not thinking like a fan.
“You can’t see the game if you’re holding a big flag in front of you,” he says.
At a typical game, they cheer in English the first couple of quarters. By the fourth, if the game is close or the beer has been flowing freely or both, they’re singing Lithuanian songs.
The last detail comes from 17-year-old Povilas Grincevicius, whom Gruzdys describes as the soul of the Lithuanian-American Nuggets fan corps. He has the requisite Kleiza jersey, autographed poster, signed pictures. He’s met Kleiza a few times. He says, sounding like a true fan: “He’s an explosive player. I’m not saying he can do everything, but whenever he gets hot, he can shoot the three. At the same time, he’s aggressive in getting to the rim. He’s got a lot of hustle.”
Getting 70 seats together at a Nuggets game can be hard to pull off. “We have a Lithuanian on the inside,” Zableckas tells me.
Kenny Keblaitis laughs when he hears that. He works group sales for the Nuggets. “So, are you the child of immigrants?” I ask. He laughs again. “My great-grandfather came over as a young boy.”
He tells me having the group in the stands a couple of games a season is like “a piece of home for Kleiza.”
“They’re definitely a group that’s very passionate about their basketball. They even have a national anthem about basketball.”
An anthem? “Lithuania is only one-fourth the land size of Colorado and we have about 3 million people, but we have some great basketball players and we are proud of that,” Zableckas says.
What are the lyrics? Gruzdys offers a loose translation: “I’m telling you. Don’t worry if you lose one time. Don’t hang your head. Just keep on fighting. Remember there are only 3 million of us, but we will win.”
He has a CD of the song, if Nuggets management wants it tonight.
Tina Griego writes Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. Reach her at 303-954-1416 or tgriego@denverpost.com.
