A Hater's Guide To The NBA Finals

These NBA Finals are not a battle of good and evil or unstoppable forces and immovable objects or any other such cliched macho pap. They should be fun, but it they are not any of that. This is a finals full of compromised individuals, goons, journeyman flotsam, and also two of the most electrifying lightning rods in the game. There is no righteous side. It will be a lot more fun than this makes it sound.

It is also a clash between two extremely un-storied franchises with one championship between them. One is on the verge of deserting a loyal fanbase in Oakland for the tech-Bohème season-ticket holders and distracted app-lords of San Francisco, people who need something to do with their considerable disposable income during the temperate California winter while Buster Posey hibernates. The other is a franchise steeped in rust, soul-deep haplessness, and defeat; one which until this season loathed their native son and former King, burning effigies to cope with their abandonment issues and finding refuge in Dan Gilbert's tear-streaked Comic Sans Magna Carta.

One team will win, and deserve it; it will be cool that such an unlikely team, whichever it is, won a NBA Championship. But, if you are inclined to give in to the hate, here is a primer on how to do so most effectively.

LeBron James' mere presence in the Eastern Conference renders 14 teams' presence in the league a mere formality. If you are keen to see another Bush-Clinton Election, you support LeBron James being in the Finals every year.

Furthermore, LeBron carries with him the stigma of not being Michael Jordan. It's a real if ridiculous thing that enrages much of the population. No matter what LeBron does, he does not do it enough. Or, wait, actually he does it too much. There's an entire industry banking on LeBron's failure, ready to spew lava-hot takes the instant the buzzer sounds. Skip Bayless will almost certainly compare him unfavorably to Tim Fucking Tebow if his depleted, scrub-strewn team loses. Also LeBron's balding, which is surely a sign of irredeemable cowardice.

Stephen Curry, for his part, is an All-Galaxy talent. You know that already, because people won't shut up about this guy; this site ran two pieces on how awesome he is just last week! Where you find insane popularity you'll find resentment, bitterness, jealousy, all manner of backlash and pushback. If Curry wins his championship it won't validate those of us who struggled to make the JV squad even though we had pluck and grit. He's the brilliant 6'3" son of a former NBA player! If this is an inspiring rags to riches story, as Curry himself seems to believe, then we as a people are doomed. Yes, he struggled with injuries early in his career, but being a superhero-grade talent who is also slender does not count as overcoming adversity.

Klay Thompson looks like Satan after too many Mountain Dews and has a weird relationship with his dad. The elder Thompson still gives Klay an allowance! Klay has no moral arc, nor as far as anyone can tell has he ever learned a life lesson. He refuses to watch black and white movies. Klay's only emotion is X-Box, which is perhaps why he looks so much like a video game version of himself.

Kyrie Irving never sniffed the playoffs until LeBron showed up and yet he's still considered a franchise player because he can dribble really well. Once Kyrie even fooled a bunch of people at a pick-up game into thinking he was an old man. It's uncool to trick people, Kyrie.

Harrison Barnes flashes all the potential in the world for literally seconds at a time. He's also gone on record saying he reads the Wall Street Journal, the New Republic, and The Economist, so you know he's boring as shit. Also he's at least a little dishonest, because literally nobody really reads The Economist. They've been publishing Lorem Ipsum text under photos of David Cameron since 2012 and no one has noticed. Also Barnes has branded himself "The Black Falcon," which is a stunningly mediocre nom de guerre.

JR "You trying to get that pipe?" Smith? Not a role model for our future diplomats or verified Twitter users. There is nothing more to say here. Nothing.

Andre Iguodala should be better at shooting free-throws. It's very annoying how bad he is at shooting free-throws. He's not even some seven-footer with confusing hands that whisper evil things at him. He's a swingman who can't handle how free the free throw is. (It is admittedly kind of hard to hate on Andre Iguodala.)

Andrew Bogut is a crotchety Australian who decries "bling" in the NBA and prides himself on not being "politically correct," all of which are very complex codewords for gross opinions. He also looks like someone who was kicked out of the Soviet navy for hygiene violations.

Matthew Dellavedova is reminiscent of a tryhard server trying to force you to order nachos with donkey sauce, or a guy who seeks face-kisses from his dog in public. He's actually both of those rolled into one, but slightly taller.

Draymond Green loves Floyd Mayweather. He plays with an intensity you might call "dirty" if you are not a Golden State Warriors fan. He's still an adorable heel—Cool story, Glenn—and future Finals MVP, but if you are looking for a hero, stick with the Old Testament.

James Jones might just win his third championship, which is three more than Charles Barkley and ten more than Carmelo Anthony. Theories: he's really funny, or he and LeBron killed a drifter and this was the price of his silence. He doesn't look that funny, honestly.

Shaun Livingston is sympathetic and even inspiring, but not that good at basketball. Tristan Thompson is the poster-boy for All NBA First Team Yeah That's Pretty Good What You're Doing There I Guess. David Blatt was gung-ho about the Israeli bombardment of Gaza and looks like Dobby The Elf from Harry Potter. Warriors co-owner Peter Guber writes books about being successful and is a minority owner of the hated Los Angeles Dodgers. Iman Shumpert has a Johnny Bravo tattoo. Joe Lacob has donated money to former Senator Bill Frist, who adopted cats from a shelter so he could perform medical experiments on them; the cats died. Speaking of animals, Joe Lacob named his dogs after Ayn Rand characters. Those dogs hopefully understand the virtue of selfishness. Truly, this will be a historically disgusting NBA Finals, equal parts wincing and vomit.

Just kidding, these teams are awesome and we are very lucky to watch them. Except for the Lacob stuff, that we stand by.