The Grind

I've got to admit the playoffs have worn me down. The regular season, for all its flaws, has such a whimsical quality to it. There's nothing on the line. I can watch the Timberwolves take out the Suns on a Wednesday night and just casually bathe in the schadenfreude of it all. Then somewhere along the way I remembered that not only am I infatuated with basketball but with a particular basketball team. And that team has a tendency to make deep playoff runs. Then some combination of vanity and anxiety led me to start writing about the NBA on a daily basis.

So now I spend my days trudging home from work so I can use alcohol to suppress the wild fluctuation between anger and ebullience that inevitably accompanies the ugly teleology of May only to ignore some girl at a bar so I can half-drunkenly scurry back to my apartment and furiously compose some eschatologically tinged but fundamentally unthoughtful analysis of what I've just seen. That's right, I just suggested that my non-existent love life is a result of the playoffs.

But you know what? I'd do it all over again. I may be tired, but I'm loving this stuff.

So there's a game on tonight. And its kind of important. All types of cliches could describe the Spurs current situation but I am going to tenderly choose "backs agains the wall." Ahh, fits like a glove (hey, there's another).

I have another admission. I'm pretty excited. This is either going to be the end of a good season or the beginning of a great comeback. Either way I'm ready. And I think the Spurs are too. Let's give'm hell.