For Once, It’s All About the Victory

Sometimes, they try. Sometimes, they really try.

The Clippers, bless their optimistic hearts, set off opening night fireballs and cherry bombs at Staples Center on Wednesday.

The smoke then cleared to reveal huge blocks of empty seats.

The Clippers dispatched one of their players to midcourt, where he took the microphone to “thank the Clipper fans, the greatest fans in the world.”

That player was rookie Shaun Livingston, who had never played a regular-season game in front of those fans.

Donald Sterling took his courtside seat with a big smile and a thumbs up.

Then turned and quietly crossed his fingers.

Sometimes, the Clipper organization really tries, but then the other sneaker drops, legions of fans limping away with busted hopes and broken toes.

Which is why, after watching Wednesday’s opener, despite every impulse in our Clipper-friendly being, we remain as still as Mike Dunleavy’s stare.

Because they won.

Because they were fabulous and fun, summoning standing ovations and noise sticks and smiles from fans who haven’t smiled since Darius Miles was among them.

They beat the Seattle SuperSonics, 114-84, and I don’t care if the Sonics are so thin they played a clunky USC high school recruit named Robert Swift, the Clippers still won.

For the first time in 10 home games dating back to last season, they won.

For only the fourth time in their last 26 games dating back to last season, they won.

Without a starting center and starting forward, they won.

With Bobby Simmons making 13 of 15 shots -- Bobby Simmons! -- and Chris Wilcox grabbing seven rebounds and Elton Brand spreading himself around like a nasty red and blue jam, they won.

The Clippers are 1-0.

But in their history, that other sneaker is undefeated.

So we’re remaining as motionless as Elgin Baylor behind the baseline.

Although among the Staples Center fans, we are the only ones.

For the first time in months Wednesday, the Clippers were not about a poll in which the entire Western world voted that their front office was the worst in Western civilization.

This was about Corey Maggette hitting a fall-away three-pointer at the second-quarter buzzer, sending his team dancing -- the Clippers can dance? -- into the locker room.

“You never know this,” Dunleavy said. “But I knew we would come out and play hard.”

For the first time in months, this was not about a failed pursuit of Kobe.

This was about a backup center with six points and two blocked shots named Mikki.

Pronounced like that kid from the Life cereal commercial.

His name is Mikki Moore, and he was just one of the prizes at the bottom of this box.

The shiniest of which was Livingston, who looks about 15 years old in his corn rows, grinning and hugging and looking every bit like a high school kid with a big-time future.

He had a couple of assists in his first couple of minutes, scored his six points on his only three shots, grabbed five rebounds, made just one turnover.

“Shaun gave us a real lift and got his feet wet,” Dunleavy said of his first-round draft pick. “He played with good poise.”

They all did, shooting 63% and committing only eight turnovers and outscoring the Sonics by 10 points with smaller guys in the paint.

But we’re waiting. Because even when they try, the Clippers are trying.

They engaged in the biggest free-agent pursuit in club history -- the only free-agent pursuit in club history? -- when they chased down Bryant into this summer’s final hours.

But when he turned them down, they were left doubled over and breathless.

They let Quentin Richardson walk and paid more money -- this year, anyway -- to Finals-veteran Kerry Kittles. Yet Kittles hasn’t even practiced with the team because of a mysterious knee injury that is keeping him sidelined though he has been medically cleared to play.

They thought center Chris Kaman was ready for a big step after a nice rookie season.

But Kaman isn’t running with them after being sidelined with a knee injury.

Is it any wonder that, before the game, Brand endured an almost unprecedented line of questioning about the extent to which his team would stink?

When is the last time you heard a player asked to compare his team to the worst team in history before they even started the season?

Someone asked Brand about the 1972-73 Philadelphia 76ers, who won but nine games.

“Can you win more?” he was asked, seriously.

“Yes,” he answered, seriously. “I guarantee that.”

It was a tough session for the gracious Brand, honest enough to admit his team could be in trouble, but professional enough to hide the white flag.

He admitted, “The timing is pretty bad.” He acknowledged, “You look at our roster and our payroll, it’s not near the top.” He allowed, “It’s stacked against us.” But then he smiled and said, “I’m not counting us out. I won’t. I just won’t.”

And for one night anyway, nobody could.

It was the largest opening night win in the franchise’s 35 seasons.

The last time they even approached an opener like this, in 1976, the Buffalo Braves defeated the Milwaukee Bucks by 21 points. Then they proceeded to lose 52 of their final 81 games.

So we’ll offer our congratulations to a hard-working, overmatched team that deserves every break it can get.

And we’ll quietly cover our heads.

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Bill Plaschke can be reached at bill.plaschke@latimes.com. To read previous columns by Plaschke, go to latimes.com/plaschke.