The NBA couldn’t ask for anything bigger to cap the shortened season: the Miami Heat vs. the Oklahoma City Thunder in the NBA finals. It’s LeBron vs. Durant, or in the words of Rick Reilly for ESPN, who is infinitely quotable here:

The King versus the King-In-Waiting, the three-time MVP versus the three-time scoring champ, The One They Hate versus The One They Love, for the Championship of the World, the Keys to the NBA’s Next Dynasty, and the title of Greatest Basketball Player on Planet Earth.

Loser empties ashtrays in Kabul for a year.

The question is: Who do you like?

They look nothing alike, play nothing alike, and live in two cities that have nothing in common, apart from both towns liking their dinner served absolutely rare. In Miami, it’s sushi. In Oklahoma City, it’s steak.

James is four years older by birthdays than Durant and 40 years older by troubles. He is only 27, but looks 37, which is what comes from playing under 1,000 pounds per square inch of pressure every game. Children and grandmothers spit his name for the way he jilted Cleveland, for the way he promised seven rings before winning one, for the Hobbit beard.

The rest of the piece here.

As for me? I am rooting for Miami, because I wouldn’t stand the pundits proclaiming how LeBron is a choker if he can’t capture the title for South Beach.