The NBA season began Tuesday night.
It ends in June.
Call me when the Warriors win.
True, there was news Tuesday night, bad news, grisly news, as Celtics small forward and newcomer Gordon Hayward dislocated his ankle and broke his tibia in a look-away injury early in Boston’s opener at LeBron.
Translation: Cavs win the Eastern Conference.
And there are 81 games to go.
In other news, Houston stunned defending champion Golden State by one point on Tuesday night. Wonderful game.
Maybe there is hope after all.
Translation: Warriors defeat Cavs in Finals.
If this seems like an oversimplification, it is.
There will be many wondrous nights between now and then, and pretenders, and chemistry experiments:
Kyrie Irving in Boston (he was booed in Cleveland by his former fans on Tuesday). Dwayne Wade reunited with LeBron. There are Russell Westbrook, Carmelo Anthony and Paul George in Oklahoma City. There are James Harden and Chris Paul in Houston.
Here’s one more word: Lonzo.
I watch the NBA when I can, and I love it – then forget it. I watch it for performance art, for players, like Westbrook, like James Harden, like LeBron and Kevin Durant. It’s not a team league. True, it’s hard to take your eyes off the Warriors when they are going, but I’ll probably manage for long stretches.
There are 81 games to go.
Let me know when it’s playoffs.