Inconceivable as it might sound, the NBA Finals, after a much needed four day hiatus after the thrilling Conference Final Rounds, commence tomorrow night in Dallas.

If you missed the sarcasm there, my apologies for your lack of intelligence.

I pray you don’t evolve into a dumb enough specimen that you would throw yourself off a building because the size of your Johnson was less than impressive.

That happened in Singapore by the way.

What a world.

And we are worrying about high fiving.

As for the Finals, the dichotomy of emotions for Commisioner David Stern must be overwhelming. On one end he has his loverboy Shaq, who will draw added eyeballs to television sets everywhere so long as he can stand upright on a basketball court. On the other end, Stern is four games away from having to hand over a league championship trophy to his arch nemesis Mark Cuban, a man who has openly criticized Stern more than I criticized Elliot Yamin’s dental work (prior to realizing what a nice fellow he was of course).

Either way the series begins tomorrow, tipping off just in time for all the children residing in the Eastern Time zone with normal parents to be fast asleep and perfectly placed so that most businessmen and women will long be faded by the time the outcome is decided. This genius scheduling leads me to draw the conclusion that the brain trust behind the NBA’s marketing must’ve been moonlighting in the casting department for the latest Real World/Road Rules “Fresh Meat” Challenge. Have you seen some of those squares?

Okay, okay, back to hoops. Since my prediction of Mavs/Pistons was half right, I’m sure you are all waiting with baited breath to hear who I’ve got in this one.

Pistons in six.

Oh wait…my bad.

Shaq in Seven.

Cuban---1 million in Finals’ fines and a lifetime ban after he runs on the court and Ron Artest’s an official.