Defending Doncic and Irving, attacking them on offense, and a Finals prediction

He should be here soon. A delightful mix of excitement and anticipation washes over me, followed quickly by a slight tinge of embarrassment due to the amount of both.

You’re a grown man Magnum, pull it together. I tuck my overlarge green button down into my too tight brown slacks, frowning as it billows around the waist. I look like a damn pistachio muffin. I scan my office for alternates and come up empty. I tap my head to reassure myself my herringbone fedora still rests comfortably. It does.

I walk behind my aging oak desk and ease myself into my office chair. The chair gives its trademark squeak as I gently lean back, and then, I hear the knock.

I scan the door and see a blurry figure…