One grew up near Cleveland. One grew up near Oakland. The rivalry has always been intense.
One tries to be supportive, while not-so-secretly cherishing the belief that his team is superior
One knows that the only person he might consider a legitimate challenger to Michael Jordan in his personal pantheon is, right now, the best person playing basketball, anywhere on earth, and is leading his hometown to the Finals.
I sit on the couch, supportive of both, invested in neither.
They rant and cheer and groan and encourage and despair and coach from the sidelines. I crochet.
There is no basketball until Thursday. For these next few, blissful days, both my boys will be happy.
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