Game Four
Ahead of Game Four of the NBA Finals, I look back to two years ago when I had a critical fourth date at the same time as Game Four of the 2022 NBA finals.
It’s June 9th, 2022 and most of my self-worth comes from having correct basketball opinions on the internet.
My most staunch take at the time is that Steph Curry is one of the greatest ever.
Steph and the Warriors are playing the Celtics in the Finals. And according to official Twitter law, if the Warriors win, all of my takes about Steph will be validated.
The fourth game of the series is tomorrow night, and the Warriors are trailing two games to one. If they lose, they’ll be down three to one, a Finals deficit overcome only once in NBA history. And I’ll be forced to endure an entire summer— or lifetime— of people telling me that both Steph and I are frauds.
But I’ve got plans.
For the first time since moving to the city, I’ve met a girl (who I actually like). And we’ve got a dinner reservation.
She came to my birthday party a couple weeks ago. I worked hard to get her number. Then we went on a first date. And a second. We’ve got momentum.
The Warriors need me, but it’s way too soon to reveal to this sophisticated, born-and-raised in downtown Manhattan woman that I need to change my Friday night plans to watch a basketball game.
A rescheduling could set us off course. She could perceive it as a roster restructuring. She could get the wrong idea. She could meet somebody else.
So here’s the plan.
I’ll record the game. I won’t look at my phone for a second all night— this is especially precarious because in addition to being in at least a dozen NBA group chats, I have made it a bit online to denounce any of my ‘friends’ who don’t text me when Steph is balling. I will devote my full energy to making a good impression. And in the morning, I’ll watch the game.
Friday, June 10th, 2022:
I want to go into the date with a clear mind, but my roommate already has the game on. I stay for the first nine minutes and fifty-nine seconds until Steph hits back-to-back threes and yells at the Boston crowd.
(The last thing I watched before going on date number four. There was no way I was going to fumble.)
About 30 minutes past the reservation time, I’m sitting at the bar alone. I can’t check my phone so my only option is to text the other person I know also not watching the game— my British friend James.
Anyways, she shows up to Dame. Steph and I both drop 43. At some point in the night I reveal my predicament (in a charming, flattering, I ignored something important to spend time with you way). I make it through the night without any spoilers. And at 9AM the next morning, I scream at my TV until the Warriors win Game Four and eventually the series.
All my basketball opinions are validated (for like a year), and Simone has attended my men’s league games ever since.
Today:
Game Four of the Finals just started. I’m not watching because I’m writing this. Simone is waiting on me for a change because she thinks I’m still working (personally I think this is a valid excuse). And I find self-worth in ways that don’t involve having the correct basketball opinion.
If Simone wants to take credit for that, she can.