The DEFEND Cleveland Show

Heat vs Spurs: Why Things are Still Very Personal

heat vs spurs pic


I sat and wrote many glorious things on the current NBA finals. Calling the San Antonio Spurs the “basketball equivalent of the New England Patriots…perennially prone to playoff berths never to be discounted as title contenders…fundamentally superior to almost every team in the league…ostensibly boring to watch”. The numerous ways I found to call the Miami Heat childish bullies…and now I only quote myself from articles that I decided against even attempting to publish. This is not the first time.

But there is a reason, reader! A reason why I present these words to you as postmortem gold. The continuation of thoughts like these were supposed to make every word an opus, exploding with emotion, doubtless poetic prose that would arch over the sun many times only to come down in drama with a beautiful crescendo never fizzing away only becoming slighter until the sound of slipping into the night would gently lull the reader to sleep. But in that sleep we would wonder. And in my sleep I did wonder could I snare the reader without mentioning certain biases or disaffection of certain names? could I set aside discretion of taste that influence my judgment of gamesmanship or lack thereof? could I compose at all without the gentle prodding of hatred herself at my fingers, slapping keys?

But for personal reasons, the answer is no. Do the finals matter for all of us in Cleveland? Very deeply. And we find ourselves concerned with only one thing again and we know who he is, that surging Voldemort.

So often in the past I had dreaded seeing a chink in his armor exposing a nebulous underbelly. Now in my current misanthropy I ache, I yearn for the type of defensive play that renders him useless by self-defeatism. The give up that says ‘not mine’ and ‘I didn’t touch the loss last’. He has largely been capable of sinning, but never boldly. Caught in situations requiring desperation and mad existence he will undoubtedly naval-gaze rather than lead, rather be caught dead and ignorant than with his hands in the cookie jar, rather stink aloof on a loss than reek of pure expenditure.

So after all this is a plea to the Spurs. Please, I want this fear of disappointment to continue to result in useless triple doubles, disappointing posture and body language. Keep on him the look of an academic elite that says ‘I can lose because I am better in the end’. As if actually winning doesn’t matter. As if nothing really matters. Just don’t show him the trick—that competition and sport always matter, possibly more than any other thing.


-Jon Conley

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Posted by on Jun 9 2013. Filed under Featured, Show Reports. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0. You can leave a response or trackback to this entry

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