I stayed up on Friday night to watch Game 5 of the NBA Finals. LeBron James and the Los Angeles Lakers were trying their damndest to shut the door on the Miami Heat. The game was close — neither squad was ever able to truly pull away — and what was a really solid Finals game through its first 43 minutes elevated into a modern-day classic in the final five. As the slugfest drew near its end, I realized something within myself so dark and repugnant that I hesitate to even put it down in digital ink:
My god, I’m rooting for the Lakers.
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