Which brings us to the 2013 finals. The Spurs and the Heat are playing. One of my most important hints for anyone interested in finding their entry point to watching basketball is to watch with someone who both knows a lot and is infinitely patient. So I sat down with my brother-in-law, who adheres to both counts, to watch Game 1.

“What color is the uniform of your team?” I asked, my standard first question.

“White, black and red ,” he said (and here I thought you could answer with just one color...but it depends if you're playing home or away!).

We watched in silence for a couple moments. I asked another question, and another. He answered and answered.

“Who is that?” I asked. It was Kawhi Leonard. I liked his cornrows and serious, quiet face. While we watched I looked him up and read articles about his “wing span” (poetry!) and the gigantic surface area of his palm. I have a history of liking my basketball players to be stars, but not the biggest ones. He fit the prerequisite. I stopped playing on Instagram and put my phone down to focus on the running, jumping and strategy of play.

“Which team is he on?” I asked, forgetting what I’d just been told about uniform color (this is why you pick someone patient to watch with).

“The Spurs,” my brother-in-law said.

“I think I want them to win then,” I decided, notebook open on my lap for observations and doodles about this particular incarnation of basketball’s final ritual. It’s a close game, back and forth, being played in Miami, which puts the Spurs at a disadvantage. The psychology of that is interesting.

“Are they booing?” I ask at one point, “That’s so mean!”

My brother-in-law laughs at me. He tells me that this particular finals season is exciting and tense because the Spurs and the Heat are two teams of stars pitted against one another. The Heat have "the big 3" of LeBron, Dwyane Wade and Chris Bosh. The Spurs stars are older, an OG Big 3 if you will. Who you root for depends on a lot, and says a lot about you too.

Tony Parker ends up making an amazing shot right at the end of the game, some crazy messy looking thing where he falls and stumbles more than once. “The King Of Clutch,” headlines proclaim in the morning. LeBron, with arms like tree trunks, wearing a turquoise shirt, says the possession was, “the longest 24 seconds I’ve ever been a part of.” I love the phrases being thrown around in the wake of this first game. A gorgeous spin move, a shot like a “dagger.” Everything is a duel, a choreography, a compression of time, a clock ticking, a monosyllabic, minimalist haiku of a recap by the performers of this lovely spectacle.

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Why I Want The Spurs To Win The Finals: An Outsider Analysis