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Look at those sad fuckers. Not the Hall of Famers with the championship rings, the two above them. If they don’t leave the arena, then the game isn’t really lost yet.

Also: I watched–and this is not an exaggeration for comic effect–ten minutes of basketball this season, the last bit of Game 7. So as an expert, I will say this: Walton should’ve announced. Hell: Walton should announce everything. Basketball, baseball, football, sports he’s never seen before.

“So, this is cricket? I’ve heard all about it but never watched the sport. What lovely sweaters these young men are wearing, though.”

“Yes, Bill. You see the man throwing the ball?”

“Sure, the pitcher.”

“No, no. He is, uh, he is called the bowler.”

“I don’t think so. Coach Wooden would take us bowling all the time, and that guy’s not wearing the right shoes. Hey, did they name the insect after the sport, or the other way around?”

“Pardon?”

“Cricket.”

“Ah. Bill, the thing is that–”

“Do you know what they call a bunch of stingrays?”

“–the game of…pardon?”

“A fever. Fever of stingrays. Nature is amazing. Do any of these teams need a coach? I got some more sons that need jobs.”

(Also: 13 rings. Those two enormous dudes? 13 NBA championships between them. Sure, Bill Russell’s got 11 of them, but still.)