Like many of you, I have read several articles this week telling me why I should watch the NBA Finals. Not a single one is compelling enough for me—and most likely, the average American sports fan—to turn the channel from reruns of Wipeout or World’s Deadliest Car Chases and try to enjoy a competition that is probably fixed from the get-go.
In a season that began with a tug-of-war between owners and players over which party will have the privilege to pocket the majority of cash coughed up by a nation of fools, the 2011-2012 basketball campaign saw NBA Commissioner David Stern’s continue his masterful racketeering scheme more efficiently than ever. How he and the league attract anybody to watch regular season basketball after this public display of greed-laden grievance, let alone shell out $40 for a cheap seat, is perhaps the shrewdest scheme in the entire world of sports.
The inability for both sides to reach an agreement in a timely manner led me to declare a personal boycott on NBA basketball for this year’s games. As it is, I spend enough time and money feeding my appetite for spectator sports without basketball. If these multimillionaires feel the need to fight over my money without providing any notable service in return, I will happily watch other millionaires play a children’s game with a different-sized ball on TV while wearing a shirt that matches theirs. I can also fill the void of witnessing the nightly tattoo exhibition by attending a heavy metal concert or shopping at my neighborhood Safeway in Northeast Washington, D.C.
If there was any modicum of hope for redemption in my mind, it was shattered for good two weeks before the season was to begin.
13 Shades of Grey 