O, Canada... we need to guard against thee.
Last night, in Oakland, California, you killed one of our precious sports dynasties -- Steph Curry and that walking scar of a team, the Golden State Warriors. These noble employees of an American company had the chance to become the first franchise since Bill Russell's 1960s Boston Celtics to win four titles in five years.
Instead, your carpet-bagging Toronto Raptors won their first NBA championship. They did this behind Kawhi Leonard and Fred VanVleet, who both grew up in the United States and did their unpaid apprenticeships at our institutions of college basketball. For the first time in forever, the Lawrence O'Brien Trophy has been taken from this nation.
Never mind that James Naismith, the man who invented basketball, was from Ontario or that the first NBA game was actually played in Toronto. And never mind you did this because we outsourced our talent. In a way, most of us red-blooded hoopers in the lower 48 felt the way you've been feeling for 26 years without the Stanley Cup: We stole your game and prized trophy, using primarily Canadian players.
No, the point is, you took something from us that has added to your culture. But you have not given back anything. William Shatner, failed actor, commercial pitchmen; Nickelback, lousy band; Avril Levigne, married to someone in Nickelback. Pamela Anderson, who had a cameo in Borat. Robin Thicke, who stole Marvin Gaye's music. And maybe the worst Canadian immigrant of all, Justin Bieber. Our championship trophy for Biebs. Swell. Beautiful.
The more I ponder what happened last night, the more I think we should build a wall along our northern border. Ya hosers.
Day One, the LOB Trophy held hostage.