There is strong coffee and fried rice on hand. At halftime of Game 1, the Wiz are miraculously only 7 points behind the Cavs. We’re less than 90 minutes away from Game One of the Suns-Lakers series. Fuck Kobe and welcome to my beautiful Sunday.

Last week I posted up with some thoughts on the NBA, the reasons being, like my stomach, purposeful and two-fold: indulge personal basketball obsession and hear what Slog ball fans have to say. The range of comments—blind and informed predictions, observations, player hating, knowledge droppin’—give me hope for the possibility of an ongoing conversation about basketball: the sport as reflection of culture, yes, the evolution of the game’s style, yes please. (Though if I have to hear the current “no defense” line one more time, I will round up Ben Wallace, Marcus Camby, Tayshaun Prince, and we will beat your ass). But mostly I just love hearing what appeals to and appalls individual fans.

Sports fandom should be one of the best manifestations of self: idiosyncrasy indulged. Fans aren’t limited to rooting for the local team, they can cheer based on the best set screens, odd player personalities (a personal fave), the number of international players on a team, whatever. While I absolutely respect regional fandom (especially through a team’s dark, multi-season losing period) players are traded often and management can be a struggle. What I prefer is a fan knowing what s/he loves about the game and rooting for it, wherever and in whomever s/he finds it. The best fandom is not tethered to reality; its fiercest loyalty is to what maintains passion.

Fandom is what allows me to believe the Suns can complete a successful championship run this year, despite having to meet San Antonio and Dallas en route. It leaves me able to say, perhaps unwisely, that this afternoon Iverson and Melo will embarrass that annoying little Frenchman-cum-rapper Tony Parker and the Spurs. We can break down the plays later. Right now, anything is possible.