I haven’t posted anything yet about my unbridled excitement over the return of the NBA (still splicing together clips of me weeping with joy wearing just my Rubio jersey with highlights of my best dunks on an 8-foot-rim soundtracked by “Walking on Sunshine”) but in the interim I thought I’d pass along this write-up over at Grantland of the writers noting what they’re most looking forward to this season. Grantland’s content bums me out on a near-daily basis, and even this article had a ton of bloat, but tell me THIS isn’t both dead-on and wonderfully written:
If I’m being honest, the core of my relationship with the NBA revolves around a deep hatred of one man: Kevin Garnett. There’s nobody like him in sports. He’s the epic, quintessential, biblical son of a bitch. Garnett is a great player, but he’s an even better performer. He’s mastered the theater of basketball intimidation, and his stylized Kabuki-technique perfectly casts him as the villain in any Celtics game. Most sane NBA fans probably don’t buy into the shtick — or see him simply as an aging cog on a successful Eastern Conference team — but I’m convinced that Garnett is locked into the role, like some kind of method actor who long ago forgot he was on stage. And the first time I leap in fury from my couch on Christmas Day, shouting, “Shut the fuck up, Garnett!” I’ll be grateful. Grateful in my sad, angry, lonely American way.
Yes times a million.