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Mavs Win, Mavs Win

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On a beautiful Sunday night in Miami, fate proved once again that you shouldn’t try to cheat her, because she will make you cry (fate’s kind of a cunt). At the end of the story, the good guys won, the bad guys lost, and the world was balanced, for a few hours at least. Now for all of you who don’t like basketball, hear me out. I understand why you don’t appreciate the game I love, and I’ve had the basketball argument way too many times to do have it again here. But I’m sure that all of you can admit you enjoyed this year’s NBA Finals. As most basketball fans will agree, this has been the best NBA Playoffs since 1993, a year that most of us have only experienced through highlights. Several of my brothers who despise basketball normally found themselves enthralled as each round became more exciting, leading to possibly the best Finals matchup ever as far as destiny goes. Here are a few reasons why this is my favorite Finals ever.

1. Rivalry- Even though there were only a few players left over from the 2006 Finals (a series that I normally refuse to talk about), there was still a feeling of possible redemption for the Mavericks. Even players who hadn’t been there in 2006 felt the emptiness that getting close and coming up short brings (Jason Kidd and Shawn Marion).

2. Destiny- Wade already had his championship, and LeBron believed that in spite of the fact that he has choked away chances for at least two, he deserved one too. So instead of making himself and his teammates better, he stabbed his hometown in the back and teamed up with his buddies, hoping to ride the coattails of their talent to a championship. The basketball gods said no. On the other hand, we have Dirk, a silent superstar who barely missed his chance five years ago despite leaving it all on the court. Since then he’s constantly worked on his game, while his billionaire owner surrounded him with key players instead of needless all-stars.

3. Balls- Jason Terry got the fucking championship trophy tattooed on his arm before the season. Keep in mind that this was a season where literally no one outside of Dallas was considering the Mavericks for the championship. Now some might say that this is tacky or unnecessary, which might have ended up true if it wasn’t for the fact that he fully backed it up in his performance in Game 6.

4. Mark Cuban- Outspoken, billionaire who buys what he wants and doesn’t give a fuck about what anyone thinks. Sound mildly frat to you? Not only did he swear for fun on live TV and have a Bud in his lap for his interviews, but he also told the City of Dallas to basically fuck off by paying for the parade himself so he can do it right. Oh and a $200,000 bar tab. Whatever.

5. Simple Math- Miami=GDI Central, Dallas=Oil Money Frat. Any fraternity man worth two shits should be pulling for the city not known for graphic tees and straw fedoras.

Now while this might not convince you to watch 82 games next season (if there is a season), hopefully we can all agree that everything is in its right place. The prematurely celebrating assholes are at home making excuses while the rightful champions are still partying. Have you seen pictures of Dirk raging after the game? Tell me you wouldn’t love being there. If I haven’t convinced you of the Mavericks’ legitimacy enough, consider JJ Barea. The dude is 5′ 10,” maybe, and makes everyone trying to stop him look foolish. He runs at guys a full foot taller than him at full speed and takes some of the hardest fouls I’ve ever seen. Oh yeah, and he’s dating Ms. Universe. He’s like Powers, only if Powers was athletic, charismatic, and not a total shit fuck. Basically the only thing they have in common is balls, which is good enough for me.

If even all of that is not enough to convince you to temporarily like basketball, then how about this: it’s just another reason to party. Do we really need a reason to get liquored up? No. But is it more fun when you have a fake reason for celebrating (i.e. Cinco de Mayo)? Hell yes. So tonight, go out and drink a few Dirk Nowitzkis. It’s a shot of German vodka, with an ounce of who-gives-a-fuck-just-get-drunk-already. See y’all on the court.

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Sterling Cooper

Sterling Cooper is a contributing writer for Total Frat Move and Post Grad Problems. He has never understood why people like sand, and has been in a bitter ten year rivalry with Muggsy Bogues, for reasons neither of them choose to reveal.

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