Living Viscerally, Etc. For the Fifteenth Time?

While my brother was being born, my Dad, the doctor, and I were watching the Lakers win the ’87 championship in the waiting room (apparently, my mother was not amused at the time. Being 3 at the time, I don’t feel very guilty…) I feel that makes me a legitimate part of the team; able to say “we” when talking about their prospects; able to participate in the visceral joy of success. After all, in the following years my dad and I willed them to hundreds of victories by screaming at the television.

With todays trade for the legitimate power forward that they haven’t had since…Worthy? (Rice, Malone, and the other short-term fillers at the position hardly count) they’re finally in a position to compete with the West’s elite for another title. Which means the LA streets In June may once again ooze with the other opiate for the masses…blah blah socialist critique of professional sports and problematic subject/object divides, etc. — it’s going to be awesome.

As for San Antonio: Well, [insert hyper-masculine utterance of dominance here].

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