I know I vowed never to watch another stinkin' NBA game after
those bastards stole the Sonics, but
last night's Lakers /Celtics game was a miracle.
My eight-year-old son has recently become a Celtics fan (one of the many tragic consequences of the Sonics leaving town) and being the noble, self-sacrificing father that I am, I agreed to watch the Finals with him.
I have to admit, it was pretty awesome.
For one night, at least, we got to see our beloved Ray-Ray (in a green jersey, no less!) lighting up Kobe for an NBA record eight three-pointers (seven in the first half alone). Sure, it wasn't as good as when
the Sonics almost beat the Lakers that one time, but for a few glorious hours it almost seemed like old times.
There are a lot of
terrible things going on in the world right now, but last night's drubbing of the Lakers renewed my faith in humanity. And, more importantly, in schadenfreude.