From the moment Ron Ron and Paul Pierce got into their reverse embrace, I knew the NBA Finals had finally arrived. A little jostlin’ and a little jawin’ never hurt anybody, and besides, it was the god damn Finals for Larry O’ Brien’s sake.
Pierce and Artest had been going at it for years, back when Indiana was more than just Travis Diener and Antoine Walker had enough money to buy a Big Mac.
But then the whistle grew into Big Brother. A double technical was called, within a minute of game play.
Only in this new PG-rated NBA.
The Zebras had adopted fear as their means of coping with the grand stage of the Staples Center, and sought to take control of the game.
And take control of the game they did. Joey Crawford and his convoy whistled 17 stops during the first quarter, and 54 for the entire game.
Seventeen fouls in the first fucking quarter?!?
Fifty-four over the course of four quarters?!
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Article written by Joseph Manuel