It’s here, just like Adam Silver drew it up. After nearly becoming the first team ever to blow a 3-0 lead, the Miami Heat flew straight from Boston to Denver earlier this week to take on the Nuggets for the right to hoist the Larry O’Brien Trophy.

The Nba Finals have historically been occupied by blue bloods, players whose names we’ve known for years and teams we’ve overhyped from the beginning of the season. But Denver is here for the first time in franchise history, and Miami is just the second no. 8 seed ever to advance this far.

Jimmy Butler and Nikola Jokic, the best players on each team, were drafted 30th and 41st, respectively. Before this year, no Finals matchup had ever featured the two best players drafted this low. For two players with strikingly different stories and styles, they seem to have a similar vibe. One loves country music. The other loves horses. They’re both tough, effective leaders vying for their first title. Neither cares what you think, although Butler is more defiant about this point, while Jokic exudes a sense of blasé bliss. In another life, they’d be buddies.

Butler, of course, has been on this stage before. But he’s one of only six Heat players remaining from the 2020 bubble roster that went to the Finals. Kentavious Caldwell-Pope and Jeff Green are the only Nuggets that have made it this far before. Ball Arena presents its elevation difficulties, but we don’t hear about it the way we do the hallowed Garden parquet and that arena’s singularly unwelcoming locker room.

Pat Riley and Erik Spoelstra have carved out their legends at the Finals, but others, like Bruce Brown and Caleb Martin, will be adding to their Finals mythology for the first time. If you’re just tuning in now, we want to make things easy for you. Below is an exhaustive glossary of the people, places, brands, and concepts that will define the NBA Finals.

836: Kyle Lowry’s hotel room number in the bubble. Why do we know this? Because that was what he told Aaron Gordon after the two beefed over Lowry clotheslining him back when Lowry was a Raptor and Gordon was on the Magic. Gordon got him back the next season.

Altitude: On a day without hurricanes, Miami is about 6.5 feet above sea level. Denver, about an hour and a half away from Rocky Mountain National Park, is at 5,280. The higher the elevation, the harder it is for the unacclimated to breathe. For Miami, coming off a grueling seven-game series against the Celtics, expect this to be a story line.

For years, Denver’s geography has been credited for giving the Nuggets an extra advantage at home—so much so that the first question Spoelstra was asked on Wednesday’s media day was about his team adjusting to the altitude.

“Our guys are in great shape. They’re ready to compete. If Denver wants to tip this thing off at the top of Everest, we’ll do that,” Spo responded, announcing the official return of Heat Cultureisms to the NBA Finals. “This thing is going to be decided between the four lines. They also gotta come back to Miami if we want to make it about that. We’ll turn off the air-conditioning. We gotta play in 90-degree humidity, sap the S-H-I-T out of their legs.”

Big Face: Slang for $100, which is what Jimmy Butler—founder of Big Face Brand Coffee—eventually plans on charging for a cup of the coffee he founded in the bubble. Since then, pop-ups have appeared around Miami. Act fast, and you can still get a cup for a measly 20 bucks.

Booth, Calvin: The former NBA player turned executive took over when Tim Connelly, architect of Denver’s core, was poached by Minnesota in 2022. He spent the offseason making detail-oriented tweaks—like trading for an expert screen navigator like Caldwell-Pope. He also signed veterans to shore up locker room accountability for the team, which could stray away from defensive principles. More on the Brown signing later.

Braun, Christian: Could become the fifth player in league history, alongside Magic Johnson and Bill Russell, to win back-to-back NCAA and NBA titles. He was pulled from the rotation in Game 3 against the Lakers after getting dragged into the paint on one (1) Anthony Davis screen, resulting in an open 3 for Austin Reaves. Michael Malone doesn’t play. But he’ll need the rookie to round out what has become a tight eight-man rotation. He played surprisingly tough defense against Kevin Durant in the second round. He’s gritty, and other things we like to say about white guys who can defend. Expect him to play spot minutes against Butler. Expect Butler to crush him and then compliment him afterward, à la Grant Williams.

Brown, Bruce: Denver’s second-best isolation defender. Stealing him from the Nets, who were focused on Durant’s trade request, was a collective stroke of genius by Booth, Malone, and Brown’s old Brooklyn teammate Jeff Green. Brown’s role—rim roller, secondary playmaker, and part-time point guard—defies definition, a nod to an increasingly positionless league. He’s only 6-foot-4, but he’s built like a tight end, and he’s always had an uncanny mix of grace and strength at the rim, where he’s finishing 73 percent of his shots. In the preseason, Booth described him to me as a killer who can crack a joke. He’s become increasingly foulmouthed and testy toward opponents as the playoffs have worn on, giving Denver the trash-talking edge it was previously missing.

“Bring that shit to the back”: What Butler said to supposedly not Jokic after Jokic bodychecked then–Heat player Markieff Morris so badly he couldn’t get up and missed several months. After the game, Heat players were waiting outside Denver’s locker room. Brothers of both parties got into it online.

Bubble Murray: A nod to Jamal Murray’s scintillating playoff performance in the bubble in 2020. You’ll hear this term thrown around by announcers when he gets hot. It’s a term of endearment that now feels like it gives him short shrift—that’s how you know you’re getting better. When he was a kid growing up in Kitchener, Ontario, Murray’s dad made him practice and work out on icy concrete in the dead of winter. As a result, he’s the kind of player who can find balance even when he’s off-balance, twisting, turning, and always finding a way to put the ball in the basket.

A quick rundown of his ridiculous shotmaking this postseason: He’s shooting 46.2 percent on 3s after two dribbles, 45 percent on very tightly contested shots (with a defender between 0 and 2 feet away), and 53.2 percent when defenders are between 2 and 4 feet away. And here’s the kicker: Murray is shooting 64.7 percent on 2-pointers from at least 10 feet when defenders are 2-4 feet away from him. Murray is making the most inefficient shot in basketball—a contested midrange jumper—at almost the same rate that Heat big man Bam Adebayo is making shots in the restricted area.

Butler, Jimmy: A.k.a. Playoff Jimmy, a.k.a. Himmy Butler, a.k.a. Himmy Buckets, a nickname he is currently in the process of trademarking for a clothing line. Jimmy is playing with house money for the rest of his career, regardless of whether he wins a championship. He is feared, respected, beloved, inspiring, and easy to root for—the kind of player who makes you want to sign up for a half-marathon when you watch him.

The signature moment of his career, thus far, was in Game 5 of the NBA Finals in 2020, his chest heaving violently up and down as he searched for a brief moment of rest in the midst of a heroic playoff performance that would push the overmatched Heat to a sixth game against the Lakers. He is the ultimate X factor, the biggest reason we can’t just hand this series to the more talented Denver team.

He is liable to do anything, from spearheading a 26-9 run fueled by Williams’s mean mug, and then complimenting his competitiveness after the game, to trolling the NBA with dreadlocks at training camp. He recently told ESPN’s Malika Andrews that he’s getting his hair braided before Game 1.

It wasn’t always like this for Jimmy, who went from being kicked out of his house at 13 to couch hopping at his friends’ places to junior college to Marquette to NBA benchwarmer to defensive stopper to All-Star to two-time NBA finalist. He left a trail of destruction behind him, including an infamous practice that helped chart his path out of Minnesota. He didn’t see eye to eye with his coaches and teammates in Philadelphia—or Chicago, for that matter.

He was brutally honest and unforgiving of people who couldn’t handle his penchant for conflict and obsessive work ethic. In Miami, he’s fit right in.

“It’s intense,” Spoelstra has said. “It’s not for everybody, and we’re not for everybody. That’s why we think it’s an incredible marriage. We never judge him on that. He doesn’t judge us for how crazy we get. It’s the same language.”

Cole, Jermaine: A North Carolina–based rapper who could probably beat you in a pickup game. Apparently, he’s the best scout for a team full of good scouts. And he’s maybe the reason that Martin, who got four votes for Eastern Conference finals MVP, is on the roster. After playing with Martin in a pickup game this summer, he called Miami Heat assistant and former NBA player Caron Butler and told him to reevaluate where they’d placed Martin on their free agent board. Miami invited Martin to a scrimmage and signed him to a two-way deal. The rest is history.

DeRozan, Diar: Daughter of DeMar. A menacing taunter at the free throw line who deserves at least partial credit for Chicago bouncing Toronto out of the play-in game. Unfortunately for Chicago, she had to go back to school the next day, so she couldn’t help against Miami, who defeated Chicago and earned the final playoff spot in the East.

Dream Catcher: The first racehorse Jokic ever purchased. Last summer, Nuggets brass made the trek up to his stable in Sombor, where he spends every offseason, to deliver his second MVP trophy. The Larry O’Brien Trophy, which has already made its way around the Ringer office, might be hoisted there this year. Jokic, who has been working with horses since he was a kid, said he’d be a stable boy if he weren’t an NBA player.

Embiid, Joel: This year’s MVP, ousted in the second round, probably sitting on a couch drinking a Shirley Temple somewhere, watching the NBA Finals, and reminiscing about the days he played with Butler.

Gauff, Coco: A 19-year-old professional tennis player who channeled Butler to win a first-round set at the French Open on Tuesday. “I told myself if Jimmy Butler didn’t freak out when they were up 3-0 and all of a sudden it’s 3-all, then I shouldn’t freak out after losing the first set,” Gauff told reporters. Before the Heat even won the play-in game in April, Butler offered her tickets to the NBA Finals. Talk about calling your own shot.

Gordon, Aaron: Denver’s best isolation defender. Jokic’s biggest, most explosive target. He’s yet another example of the Nuggets surrounding Jokic with the perfect personnel. Credit this one to Connelly. Perpetual dunk contest snub. Former podcast host. Enlightenment junkie. Total sweetheart. You can tell by the way he smiles. This, for years, was also the private scouting report on him: When the going gets tough, he won’t do the same. But after holding Durant and Karl-Anthony Towns to one point per chance and Devin Booker to 0.7, per Second Spectrum, he’s proving that might have been a stereotype.

Harlow, Jack: Adorable, curly-haired menace. Perpetually flirting with the universe. White Men Can’t Jump remake star. The Bob Dylan of the NBA and Louisville. He wrote a song named after former Kentucky and current Miami Heat swingman Tyler Herro. And he was courtside in Game 7 wearing a Celtics bomber. Was he trolling, or does this mean there won’t be a White Boy Summer sequel?

Haslem, Udonis: Miami’s 42-year-old cultural gatekeeper. A member of the 2006, 2012, and 2013 title teams. A well of institutional knowledge. He’s set to retire at the end of the season and is still under the required 6 percent body fat threshold that Miami tests weekly, even though he’s barely played all postseason. He can be found looking very angry when the defense isn’t up to par. Not quite a coach, not quite a player. Still good for a speech or two. Absolute legend. Related …

Heat Culture: Mocked when the Heat came close to blowing a 3-0 lead, vindicated when they ultimately won Game 7. It’s a somewhat amorphous concept, a combination of conditioning, grit, and self-belief that’s difficult to capture but easy to recognize. It’s the weekly body fat percentage testing. It’s the fact that four of the players in their rotation went undrafted. It’s Riley suggesting that Lowry needed to get in better shape in an exit interview last year.

It’s Spoelstra calling pressure-cooker playoff possessions “moments of truth.” It’s the look in his beady, excited eyes and almost menacing smile when he says things like:

“He is us, and we’re him. That’s the way we operate as well, and sometimes the psychotic meets the psychotic.” (About Butler.)

“Everyone overestimates what you can do in a day and underestimates what you can do over the course of months or a year.” (About Herro.)

“You’re not tired, you’re not tired.” (In Butler’s ear over and over during the 2020 Finals.)

“These are lessons we’re going to pass on to our children about perseverance. When things don’t go your way, we just keep on forging ahead and suffer, suffer, and suffer until you get what you want.” (In the locker room after the Heat’s Game 7 win.)

Herro, Tyler: Of Jack Harlow fame. Ultimate gamer. Tough shotmaker and tough shot misser. The type of guy other guys would call an absolute beauty if he played hockey. But Herro broke his hand in Game 1 of the first round against the Bucks. He exited the game only after gritting it out for a few possessions and nailing a corner 3.

Herro is now reportedly ramping up for a potential Game 3 return to provide some much-needed rotational relief. He’s a huge missing piece, if he can contribute. In the regular season, he led Miami in field goal attempts and made his 3-pointers, shooting 37 percent on pull-up 3s.

Over the past season, he also ran more than 1,000 combined picks and handoffs with Adebayo, an action the Heat spammed over and over against Jokic when the two teams played in December, burning the big man to the tune of 26 points, 10 rebounds, and five assists.

“Him”: Something the kids are saying, often about themselves, from Reaves declaring “I’m Him!” during a breakout performance to Scottie Barnes telling Quentin Grimes that Grimes is, indeed, not Him. It’s a public service announcement of sorts, a polite way of letting others know that if they fuck around, they’ll find out.

But what does it mean to be Him? You have to be clutch and consistently show up when the lights are on, always ready to rise to a challenge and above a game plan. Jimmy earned the honors with his 56-point performance in Game 4 of the first round to take a 3-1 lead on the Bucks.

I’ve argued that Brown, who has delivered timely buckets and stops through the playoffs, is the role player version of Him. Martin has been Him. Himmy Butler speaks for himself. Jokic, who probably has no idea what any of this means, is definitely Him.

Jokic, Nikola: A.k.a. the Joker. Funny in ways that are both intentional and unintentional. An enemy of the microphone. Will drop a triple-double on your team while wearing Spongebob boxers underneath his shorts.

Hailing from Sombor, Serbia, Jokic has been the single most dominant offensive force in basketball for three years running now. With all due respect to Dirk Nowitzki, Jokic is already the best European basketball player of all time. Allergic to attention and accolades to a degree that American sports culture can’t conceive of. A two-time MVP who insists that Murray is the best player on the team. A force multiplier by way of relinquishing the ball quickly, allowing his teammates to create on offense. The greatest passer this game has ever seen. (That, by the way, is no joke.) His combination of creativity, accuracy, and quick decision-making has created passing angles that previously didn’t exist.

His nose is perpetually red, like he’s nursing a cold, and his jumper is perpetually hot. There isn’t a single place on the court where he can’t hurt you. He has Tim Duncan’s reticence at the podium, Magic Johnson’s passing in the open court, Larry Bird’s shooting on the perimeter, Dirk Nowitzki’s fadeaway, Hakeem Olajuwon’s post moves, and Bill Walton’s playmaking at the elbow. He toggles between these identities multiple times in a possession, going from having the ball in his hands to screening to catching the ball on the pop and facing up to turning around and posting up to attracting the double and finding a cutting Gordon for a dunk.

Kaseya Center: The software company the Miami Heat arena was hastily named for this season in the wake of the FTX scandal (a Ringer breakdown of the scandal also inspired this article’s format).

Kyle Lowry’s butt: It’s a practical feature allowing the 6-foot guard to box out the likes of Al Horford and Jaylen Brown. In the words of Jack Harlow, that shit is like a pillow.

Malone, Michael: Grumpy and anxious, yet jovial and fun. Borderline adorable. We are all so many things. Malone has a dry sense of humor and always seems worried that his team will let off on the throttle. He tries to create the narrative that Denver is a perpetual underdog, but it’ll be a strain to keep that up against the no. 8 seed. For years, he has been the most passionate and outspoken voice in the locker room, and he opened the season hoping one of his players would take the mantle. Jokic, to the benefit of Malone’s vocal cords, has. Malone reminds you of hard-driving Tom Thibodeau types, but those kinds of coaches tend to wear out their welcomes. Malone has been coaching in Denver since 2015. He’s lost his voice twice this postseason, but his players don’t tune him out.

Martin, Caleb: Has a twin named Cody, but is not named Zack for some reason. Went from looking for a job after two forgettable seasons in Charlotte to busting Boston’s defense with one timely shot after another. He’s shooting a scintillating 52.5 percent on catch-and-shoot 3s these playoffs and generating 1.359 points per chance (in the 89th percentile) when he attacks closeouts, per Second Spectrum. He’s Miami’s Reaves: an undrafted, overlooked player with untapped potential who plays his role so well that you start to wonder what his ceiling really is.

Mountain Standard Time: The best time zone in the NBA. For the love of God, take the L and don’t @ me. Five p.m. tip-offs during the regular season!

Nickelback: The soundtrack of Miami’s NBA Finals run. From Hanna, Alberta, about a three-hour drive from where I grew up. I saw them at the Junos, a Canadian award show, a few months ago. Their lawyer was one of the first people they thanked. There’s probably a story there.

Porter, Michael, Jr.: Has never met a shot he doesn’t like, but the rim likes him back. He’s shooting 44.2 percent on catch-and-shoot 3s in the playoffs, and he lets them go with less discretion than Klay Thompson. His efficiency drops as soon as he takes a dribble, but his confidence doesn’t. He’s still only 24 years old, with incredible potential and a devastating history of back injuries. His YouTube search history would probably burn your eyes out. As a rookie, he wondered why Mason Plumlee was coming off the bench instead of Jokic—until the first game he watched him play.

Quesarito: A quesadilla wrapped in a burrito. The subject of the Taco Bell commercial that was playing while the Nuggets drafted Jokic with the 41st pick. Jokic was sleeping at his home in Serbia when it happened. The product was unfortunately discontinued about a month ago.

Riley, Pat: The godfather. Miami Heat president. Al Pacino would play him in a biopic, if Al Pacino were sharp or suave enough. Aside from the Larry O’Brien Trophy, Riley is one of the only nods to tradition in these NBA Finals. As a player, coach, and executive, he has nine rings.

Rocky: Reportedly the highest-paid mascot in the NBA. Named after the mountains, I presume.

Rodriguez, Alex: Yankees legend. Players’ Tribune founder. Minnesota Timberwolves part owner. But more important, Cuban-cigar-smoking Miami Heat fan.

Rust: Expect this to be a talking point if the Nuggets come out sluggish in the first quarter of Game 1. After sweeping the Lakers, they’ll be coming off nine days of rest. According to ESPN’s Kevin Pelton, “Teams with both home-court advantage and a rest edge of at least five days going in are 8-1 all-time in the Finals,” but that hasn’t stopped the perpetually worried Malone from incorporating conditioning drills into their practice routine.

Shakira: Mutuals with Butler on IG ever since Game 4 of the ECF. On Sunday, Butler liked one of her posts. The next day, she posted this on her story:

Sombor Shuffle: Jokic’s signature move. It’s like if you added a sidestep dribble to Dirk’s patented one-legged fadeaway. ESPN calls it a half stepback, half fadeaway. Two songs have been named after it. They could not be more different.

Wade, Dwyane: Miami Heat legend. The city temporarily named a county after him after he retired. He’s been recruiting Butler to come to Miami ever since they were teammates in Chicago. A part owner of the Utah Jazz, but he’s probably still texting Butler right now, telling him he’s not tired. The drippiest man in NBA history. He can pull off sunglasses indoors.

Walmart: The mega-chain that funds the Jokic-Murray two-man game.

Wedding ring: Jokic married his girlfriend Natalija Jokic in October 2020. He now wears his wedding ring laced onto his sneakers during games. It’s a rare public display of anything from Jokic, and it is just occurring to me now that the best way to counter Jokic for the next decade is to expose him to the microscope-like attention that comes with being in the NBA Finals and hope that scares him back to his stables.

Zone: There will come a time, likely in the third quarter of Game 1, when the Nuggets are firing on all cylinders, and the announcers will wonder whether Spoelstra, likely out of desperation, will bust out Miami’s terrifying zone defense. Hint: They shouldn’t. Not against Jokic and the best team in the NBA at beating the zone. If you’ve made it this far, you can read more about that here.