Not too long after the Toronto Raptors held on to win their first NBA championship, Bill Russell graced the stage at Oracle Arena. The NBA legend was there to hand out the Finals MVP Award, one that is named after the 11-time champion.

Everybody already knew who was going to win.

Kawhi Leonard wrapped his famously large hands around the trophy, lifting both it and the Larry O’Brien Trophy high in the air. The 27-year-old has earned his way back to the top of the sport five years after he struck the same pose with the Spurs in 2014.

I sat in my room and watched, marveling at his achievement while remembering what it was like five years ago when he did it for my favorite team. I was happy for him – he’s been my favorite player for a long time.

I answered texts, made Facebook posts and smiled … a lot. But at the same time, I knew deep down my excitement for him wasn’t like the last time.

Everybody has probably had that romantic relationship in their life where something didn’t work out. You were left high and dry, wondering what you could’ve done to make it last. 

Then months or years later, you see them again with somebody else. You channel your best Tim McGraw – you tell them you’re happy for them, and given the chance you’d lie again.

That was how I felt Thursday. And just to be clear, it was mostly because of Kawhi.

Luckily, that same day was my dad’s birthday. And Sunday is Father’s Day. So I started thinking about sports and my dad – they’re really synonymous in my world.

I wouldn’t be writing sports if I wasn’t for him. He helped me find my love for sports. He instilled it in me before I could even walk.

My dad was my catcher when I was trying to become a pitcher. He was also there for my early retirement, otherwise known as when I was cut as a freshman. He always had a way with words.

When I decided to step away from school basketball – that was actually my choice – I still played Jaycees. In my first year, we made it to the championship game.

Not many people know this, but my dad works in Mexico. He’s been splitting his time between there and here for more than a decade. Sometimes he had to miss me playing.

When he knew he wasn’t going to be able to make it to the championship, he found the words again. I woke up that morning to an email that had to be 1,000 words.

It was a scouting report and motivational speech wrapped in one. I read it over and over and tried to do everything he suggested. I wish I could rewrite history and say I led us to a win, but we lost on a buzzer beater.

You can probably guess who had words of encouragement ready.