Richard Jefferson: So I’m sitting on the team plane, and I’m legitimately about to get emotional. This isn’t even Game 7. Listen, this isn’t even the NBA Finals. This is Toronto. This is still the Eastern Conference Finals. I’m a 36-year-old grown-ass man, and I’m about to start crying on the plane coming back from Game 4. That’s how bad I want it. I want it so, so, so, so bad. The series is 2–2, the plane is taking off, and my mind is spiraling out of control. I’m like, “We cannot lose in Cleveland. If we go back to Toronto down 3–2, it’s over. I can’t go through this again. I can’t get this close again and not hold that trophy in my arms. I literally cannot handle it.” It meant so damn much to me.
It’s funny, because to this day, people will be like, “Man, that Cavs run must have been so much fun.” And I’ll tell them straight up, “Hell no it wasn’t fun.”
