I don't really care about the 2013 NBA Finals. I do, but I don't. I don't want to care. The person involved in this finals I care the most about is Gregg Popovich. He is the most deserving to win another NBA championship. My plan is follow the first two or three games from a polite distance and tune-in only if the Miami Heat ever gets in trouble. After seeing them walk through the opposition like the Detroit Red Wings on Stan Marsh's team, I want to see them suffer.
The reason why I don't like the Miami Heat is mystery to me. Last week, I almost convinced myself I should like them. Watching their crushing victory in game 7 against the Indiana Pacers last night, playing the way they should always play, under a ridiculously delirious crowd, I couldn't help but find them irritating. They're like the Romans. When they lose, it's because they've defeated themselves and when they win, it's what was supposed to happen. The presence of NBA's #1 bandwagoner Justin Bieber in ridiculous leather attire may or may not have contributed to the atmosphere of ongoing bacchanalia. Coach Pop, please deliver us of this grotesque America.
