Walking out of a final, most people are overcome by a certain feeling. No matter what happened in the previous 10 weeks and no matter how well you may or may not have done in the class, it’s over. If you walk out of that final feeling like somehow you were able to snag a good grade, that feeling is amplified. And if you’re that question kid walking out of a final, you start crying a little because you have so many more questions to ask. But nobody likes that kid. So screw you, question kid.
For everyone else, the feeling that it’s all done is comparable to one thing in sports: when your team wins a championship. Some people feel this sensation often ‘mdash; attaching themselves to whatever new team catches fire. These people are called bandwagoners and are also the only group deserving as much concentrated hatred as question kids and gingers. However, to follow a team for a long time and then, one day, be rewarded ‘mdash; there’s nothing quite like it. Well, being a part of that team probably comes close, but most of us lack the amazing athletic ability and are left to live vicariously through the team we worship.
People in California are spoiled sports fans. The San Francisco 49ers, then-Anaheim Angels and Los Angeles Lakers have all been crowned champions in the past 15 years, giving us unlimited taunting rights.
However, in my collegiate years (which have been lengthy, as I attempt to become the longest tenured political science major and Guardian sports writer in history), I have been unable to watch a California professional sports team win it all (sorry Los Angelinos, the University of Southern California is not a professional team ‘mdash; even if some of its players get paid).
I have never seen a championship celebration engulf the UCSD campus, setting off what I can only assume would resemble a hybrid of Welcome Week and the Sun God Festival. I watched Red Sox fans celebrate the end of their drought in 2004 with reserved jealousy, but the creases still left in their brand new jerseys showed that you can’t really have a Boston celebration in San Diego.
I yearn for a celebration before I leave this campus. Yes, I admit to being a spoiled sports fan, and I know there are many fans of many teams who have waited far, far longer. Honestly, if I never take part in another championship celebration, the feeling after the Angels won the World Series in 2002 will suffice for the rest of my life. Still, when you feel such an undying love for sports, it’s natural to always want more. It’s why we watch. It’s why we care.
The Lakers almost gave us a reason to celebrate last season, and most people tricked themselves into thinking the Lakers would beat the Boston Celtics. We watched. We cared. They lost.
This year, the Lakers have been a better team than the Orlando Magic. They have Kobe Bryant, the best player in the series. Their edge is experience, particularly because much of the same team played in the NBA Finals last season. The triangle offense provides a much more stable structure on both sides of the ball ‘mdash; if used properly ‘mdash; than anything the Magic can put together. With a solid rotation, foundation and determination, the Lakers have all the pieces they need for a championship.
Unfortunately, the Magic have a few things going for them. They have better team chemistry, are far deeper, can stretch the floor, swept the Lakers in the regular season and, most importantly, have been better battle-tested on their way to the finals. Orlando has defeated two of the best four teams in the league already, and the East has shown this season that it can provide playoff battles with the likes of LeBron James and Dwayne Wade. The up-and-coming Bulls, Hawks and Sixers may give rise to epic conference playoff battles for years to come.
My head tells me the Lakers are doomed to repeat failure in the final stage. But with the school year com
ing to a close, my heart tells me it’s about time for that just-finished-your-final kind of feeling.
Joe goes with: Lakers in seven.