Hugs all around.

At the beginning of this year’s playoffs, the conventional wisdom was that whoever won the West would hammer whoever came out of the East. And sometimes the conventional wisdom turns out to be right. Last night the Warriors completed a sweep of the Cleveland Cavaliers with a definitive, whistle-to-whistle domination on the Cavs’ home court.

And there was much rejoicing. Though maybe not quite as much as last year; one is forced to admit that after three championships in four years, a little bit of the novelty has worn off. When the Champagne (actually Anderson Valley Brut) was gone and the coverage of postgame revelry gave way to local news, the feeling here on Evergreen Avenue was of pleasant exhaustion more than active jubilation.

Do I feel bad about my boys claiming another title when the fans in Houston, in Oklahoma City, in two dozen other cities would give their left arms to see their teams hoist the trophy? Not really. Does any fan ever say, “Enough, please stop winning now.”? If they win three or four more we might be there; but probably not.

It still boggles the mind that My Golden State Warriors, league laughingstock for the better part of two decades, are now three-time champs. My personal thanks go out to everyone who made this possible, from Steve Kerr and Bob Myers, to Joe Lacob and Peter Guber, to Kevin and Andre and Klay and My Son Draymond.

But most of all to Wardell Stephen Curry III. Without him none of this happens. It is his talent and his attitude that defines how the team plays; it was his ability to get along with others that convinced KD that hey, it might be fun to go play in Oakland. I would like to now officially and in public name Steph my favorite athlete in any sport ever. I’m sure that will somewhat lessen the sting of missing out on Finals MVP again.

And that’s it for another rather lengthy NBA season. Next year should be fun, with the mystery of where LeBron ends up (Houston anyone?) and the Celtics shaping up to be a serious challenger. See you then.