NBA Finals ‘13

On the eve of a Finals rematch, a recap of a seven-game series saturated in stories.

The following is a piece I wrote on the eve of Game 7 of the Miami Heat v. San Antonio Spurs series of the 2013 NBA Finals, tied up at 3 to 3.

This isn't just another championship game — it’s a cataclysm of basketball history. It’s the proverbial unstoppable force of basketball pomp and circumstance colliding with the immovable symbol of basketball greatness over the last decade.

On one ends lies the ultimate super-team, a product of business-driven management laden with the excessive flash and capital of American’s original sun-kissed city. This team’s possibilities and expectations were never anything less than the size of its check book, a team whose play is characterized by youth, athleticism and showmanship. They aim to reinvent the model of the championship team, and have been in a position to do so for the last three straight years.

Here lies the Miami Heat, the new kid on the Eastern Block, figure-headed by none other than the media-anointed King since the age of sixteen. LeBron’s entire career echoes the last three years of the Miami franchise — victorious on arrival. Everything afterword is just proving the point. Taking the best player in the league and uniting him with two more all-stars in a $300 million mega deal has made the pseudo-prophetic sports news networks explode with excitement.

Here lies a team that was created.

On the other hand lies the product of over a decade of legacy-building and leadership. It’s only befitting that the San Antonio Spurs hail from a city forever remembered for its last stand. Arguably the best at their respective positions, Tim Duncan and coach Gregg Popovich have consistently held up the championship trophy for nearly fifteen years and challenged every other team for the best record even more frequently.

Their expectation of greatness has been built not by a bank account or a media circus, but by years of continual success in the purist form — championships. They don’t have as many dunks, fast break points or alley-oops, but what they do have is a systematic efficiency the likes of which exposes all others’ weaknesses and inexperience like an X-ray.

Here lies a team characterized by the principals instilled in the game the very day it was invented: consistency, fundamentals, and class. A team modeled by time and toil.

Here lies a team that was built.

This series has been more than just a few basketball games. It’s played out like the prize fight between two world champions from opposite sides of the world. One team came off a seven-game series, the other from a 10-day break following a sweep. It’s a series that’s seen two teams trade some of the biggest blowouts in Finals history before meeting in the middle of arguably the closest sporting event of all time.

There have never been any repeat victories. Records have been broken. Coaches and players alike have been forced to give every ounce they have, with twelve-deep rosters and overtime thrillers. Both teams are fronted by candidates for the best power-forward of all time, both of whom met on a similar battlefield just six years ago.

No, tonight may just seem like another basketball game to much of America and the rest of the world, but what is really happening tonight in South Beach is nothing short of a supernova in the pantheon of professional sports. Two days ago tonight, one team was twenty seconds away from destruction. Tonight, the world’s greatest basketball powers meet in the middle, and only one will walk away victorious.

The prize is more than just a trophy; it’s the imaginations of basketball fans forever.