There was a time when I would be anxiously waiting for the Lakers game on Christmas mornings like today.  I'd make sure that my family knew that at some point I would turn off the bootleg movie blasting above everybody shouting. At game time, I wanted the remote, a seat on the couch, and folk needed to chew on their peach cobbler quietly so I wouldn't miss a thing.  The Lakers would be playing whatever team they smashed the prior year in the Finals; and I'd be looking for a repeat so I could go back to school and talk trash to all the idiots who weren't down for the home team.   Read More