Kevin Durant is the best basketball player in the world. He is supposed to be an immature millionaire athlete at 23 years of age. Meta World Peace is in his mid to late 30's and he acts like a 17 year old on steroids. Durant, on the other hand, is the steady hand that can cradle your child to sleep while refereeing a UFC fight. It's this quality which makes him the guy that can put a team on his back and put together a remarkable comeback in the NBA finals.
There was a point during last night's game where my eyes began burning like they never have before. "Is this how it feels to be pepper sprayed by the NYPD?," I remember thinking. Fortunately I had not been given the Occupier treatment. Instead, I was being sneaked into the Russell Westbrook show against my will. The burning sensation in my eyes worsened as the game went on.
Let's suppose you are a pretty good surgeon and the hospital you work for houses the best surgeon currently operating on human bodies. The next step in this hypothetical exercise is to imagine a young child- let's say a 5 year old- entering the emergency room on a stretcher; he has been struck by a stray bullet and needs surgery immediately. So there you are, willing and able to perform surgery on this child with all his life ahead of him. But, the best surgeon in the game is available and ready to go as well. What do you do? Do you: A) Let the better surgeon work his magic and save this kid's life, or, B) Rush the kid to an operating room and get to work because you are a glory whore.
If you answered A, congratulations. You are sane, you are the team player our species has always needed in order to survive and prosper, and you have your ego in check. If you answered B, your reflection, wherever you may catch a glimpse of it, arouses you, you are the downfall of humanity, and you are probably a big Russell Westbrook fan.
Regardless of the mysterious on court relationship between Westbrook and Durant the Thunder found a way to bring a double digit deficit down to a one possession game. My eyes begin to feel better. I am witnessing something special, something historic.
But just then, while standing at the golden gates of sports history, the minotaur in the complex maze which is NBA refereeing gets away with 3 fouls in what was the game tying play. It's quite simple, LeBron James committed two fouls on Kevin Durant and a failed submission attempt on Russell Westbrook during the most important play of game 2 of the NBA FINALS.
Not a whistle was blown nor the cries of rationale heard. The deafening silence of the referees stabbed Kevin Durant's awesome performance in the foot sending it limping towards "But his team didn't win" land; also known as "irrelevance."
I cried rivers of blood. I just watched this happen and the replays are making it worse. Jesus was trying to tell me something unintelligible to which I replied, "Dude, I'm an Atheist."
I really want to watch game 3 on Sunday, but removing all this blood is taking longer than expected.
Alex
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