Cut to the chase

Or to put it another way, can't we just go ahead and start the NBA Finals tomorrow, so we're not still watching basketball in the shadow of the Fourth of July?

I mean, we all know it's going to be the Cavaliers and the Warriors again. I know it. You know it. President William Henry Harrison knows it, and he's been dead for 170-some years.

So do we really need to slog through two more games each of the Warriors beating the goo out of the Kawhi Leonard-less Spurs, and the Cavs beating both the goo and the delicious creamy filling out of the poor defenseless Celtics? Can't we just dispense with the formalities?

Which, you know, don't look all that formal to me.

I don't know what that was last night in Boston, but it sure wasn't an Eastern Conference finals game. Looked more like the Cavs vs. the Warren G. Harding Elementary School Bobcats. The Celtics are hopelessly overmatched in this series, and last night they played like they knew they were hopelessly overmatched. The result was a 44-point defenestration that had you wondering what sort of things might have been overheard in the Garden ...

"Now, LeBron, you let your little brother score once in awhile!" (LeBron's mom, calling out the backdoor)

"I don't wanna guard him. You guard him." (Unidentified Celtic)

"Well, I sure don't wanna guard him. You guard him." (Second unidentified Celtic)

"No way!" (First unidentified Celtic)

"Yes way!" (Second unidentified Celtic)

"Hey, no fair! Moooom!" (Many unidentified Celtics)

And so on.

And on. And on.