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By Smaktakula

Last night the Boston Celtics and Los Angeles Lakers continued their great rivalry, coming together in a decisive game seven of the NBA finals.        

Fans have always responded to the passion engendered by these two teams.        

Athletes have often been compared to warriors.  Never was it more true than last night.  The players were so like the ancient Spartans or Athenians that you could practically see their greek forefathers hovering over their shoulders as the two teams grappled for four sweaty quarters.  They grunted and heaved as they wrestled for the sweat-slick ball, teeth bared in the straining, exultant agony of exertion.   This is the great beauty of the sport: the breathtaking juxtaposition between the animalistic abandon with which the game is played, and the delicate, almost sensual ball-handling of these gentle giants.       

When it was over, both teams had given it all they had, and left quite a bit of themselves on the glistening floor.  Ultimately, the Lakers came out on top, roughly coming from behind to stun the Celtics, who, with tears in their eyes, could only take it in the end.            

They Met As Enemies, But Became So Much More

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Dedicated to two very special Laker fans.