Well ladies and gentleman, this is about as epic as it gets. It's NBA Finals time and, to anyone with a soul's delight -- there are no Spurs or Pistons around to muddy the waters.
This is like if Kevin Arnold and Winnie Cooper had gotten married at the end of The Wonder Years; it's just one of those things that feels right.
Now I'm not a tremendous fan of either team, but I do understand the magnitude of this match-up and what it means to many older than myself. It's like "Freebird" in that it seems cliche' or played out by generations before our own -- hell maybe even contrived by the league, but who cares; it's a cold, hard classic.
On one side you have the hard-nosed, defensively oriented, lunch pale Celtics representing a city much like the make up of their team -- blue-collared and workman like. On the other side stands their complete antithesis, the glitz, glamour and star-power that is L.A. and their love-child Lakers.
It's Ali-Frazier. Flash vs. grit. One team plans to plod and claw their way to a championship and the other plans to dance.
It's high drama and I don't plan on missing a second of it. As for a team to pull for: my minds tellin' me Lakers, but my body... but my bahody is tellin' me Celtics. I don't see nothin' wron...
R. Kelly references aside, I'm going to be taking the experience in at Mother's Pub this evening if anyone cares to join.
The beer will be cold and the wings will be hot. Should be a pretty swell time.
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