It is almost that time of the year. On Saturday April 16th the battle of the worlds greatest modern day titans commences. The road to supremacy. It is the time when finding a flat screen 50 inch high definition "boob tube" is of greater importance then the firm grip this cell phone has on me. This is the 65th NBA season and somehow the NBA finds a way to draw B-Ball fans from all over the globe to tune in. My educated guess as to the magnetic effect the NBA draws, is due to being one of the rare REAL reality shows to watch. No one hitter quitters, no one "off" game by your superstar and done. 16 teams make the cut. 8 from the best-coast and 8 from the east. The Spurs, Lakers, and the Mavericks have clinched their respective spots in the west while the Celtics, Bulls, Heat, and the Magic are primed to make their run in the east. Still a lot of slots left and the jousting has begun! Who will get knocked off the Clydesdale and sent home to watch like me, with a cold Budweiser and a recliner? Or better yet to be on TNT as a guest for the half time shows with Ernie, Chuck, and Kenny. 40 games in 40 nights! Please believe my man Ervin Magic Johnson will be giving you that wonderful laugh, smile, and fashion statement. He has a guaranteed seat on any telecast like I do at my favorite cafe.
It will be that time of the year when, you absorb the panoramic view from your $750 dollar mid upper level ticket. Where you will sent picture mail from your cell phone to your Facebook page rubbing it in to your cronies because they ain't there. You will see the finest of the American women on deck and if you look close enough and pay attention, you will actually see some of them change outfits during halftime. That's right, I have seen it go down. I call those ones "the front row hoes". Enough of the ladies though, it about the less than 15% body fat agile giants, the round ball, the three point line, and when grown men like myself try and get a glimpse of the mega ballers versions of their playoff sneakers! It is the one time when men can act like a woman does while in Nordstroms after Thanksgiving.
This is the time of the season when you won't find the players that made it at the nightclubs on a road trip trickin. You might catch them in the visitors locker room right after the game watching film on their Ipod's in the whirlpool with beats by Dr. Dre headphones on, focused, studying. Or back at the hotel working with trainers loosening muscles and sleeping in portable hyberbaric chambers to speed the recovery process. Team mate bonds become closer, clowning, joking and slapping bones if they won. The veterans that have rings already, grab the attention of those that don't. Similar to when Michael Jackson took over the nations airwaves to plead his innocence. This is when they smell, vision, and taste the right to be called a World Champion. The ring, the diamonds, the trophy, the pictures, the resume, and the parade. What a feeling it must be. You might wonder who is my team? Well lets just say that I am an editor on an all purple web site for a reason! Let's make this happen. Who you rollin with this year?
Author: C. Gonzales
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