After a gut-wrenching series that featured ups and downs and had all our balls in our stomachs, the Miami Heat has completed its quest for back-to-back championships and defeated the San Antonio Spurs in an epic Game 7.
LeBron James brought the devastation, scoring 37 points, grabbing 12 rebounds, and crushing shots from the three-point line like someone told him he wasn't clutch or something.
In the biggest game of his life, with his legacy on the line and the stakes as high as they can get in basketball, LeBron James was simply the six-foot-eight, 249-pound gamma-ray-powered embodiment of God's wrath, devastating the Spurs and the rest of America with the hardest cockpunch ever delivered in the annals of man.
With the Haterz spewing their nonstop irrational and stupid abhorrence toward him and expecting him to choke in the biggest of moments, LeBron stepped up to the challenge, flexed his nuts, and leveled the San Antonio Spurs defense with five three-pointers while crashing the boards for 12 rebounds.
Every time the Heat would deliver a haymaker to their throats, the Spurs would assimilate and swarm Miami's game, keeping them from making any sort of run. The Spurs are like the Borg -- they can't be bargained with, and they cannot be reasoned with. They keep coming at you with a never-ending onslaught of jumpers and foul shot opportunities and insufferable veteran savviness.
Every time the Heat would cut off an arm from a Spur, they'd instantly grow back another one. But the new arm would be a chain saw or a bazooka.
The Spurs were hard to kill.
Yet LeBron would not let Miami fold to the Spurs' swarming attack, delivering multiple elbow-shots to San Antonio's collective larynx and blowing up their assholes with a devastating jump shot the likes we have not seen since Michael Jordan.
When Tony Parker threatened to slash through Miami's defense, LeBron would wrap him in the Cobradick and constrict until Parker pooped out a baguette.
Yet even with LeBron going full COBRADICK on the Spurs, the game was tight down the stretch, and every Heat fan's asshole was one gargantuan monkey fist.
LeBron whaling on San Antonio with his dong wasn't going to be enough.
He needed help.
And he got help.
Dwyane Wade, who some know-it-all asshole said should see less minutes in this game, came out from the GO and cracked the Spurs' skull with his mid-range jumper.
Playing basically on one leg, Wade scored in transition, hit jumpers, and played ferocious defense.
As he has his entire career, Wade played the game as if it was his last, mustering up the very last reserves he had in him, and turning Manu Ginobili into a human-sized lump of charcoal with a bald spot.
Wade and James dusted the Spurs defense with their offensive napalm, combining for 60 points, and kung-fuing the shit out of the haters in the clavicle.
James also found help in the suddenly hot Shane Battier.
The Professor had played himself out of the rotation in the Eastern Conference Finals. He didn't even play in that series' Game 7.
But on this Game 7, the mild mannered Professor went back to the lab, drank some concoction he formulated on his spare time to help him read faster, and that somehow suddenly morphed into the HORSETRONAUT!!
The HORSETRONAUT blow up the Spurs assholes with a face-melting, dynasty-busting three-point barrage. Battier banged down six three-pointers on the night on his way to the biggest performance of his career.
But the Spurs would not relent.
If the Heat were going to finish this thing off and repeat as champs, they were going to need LeBron to rise up and become the Cobradick... the very essence of basketball destruction, capable of laying waste city blocks, slapping tanks into the next time zone, and bench pressing commuter trains on its spare time.
It was time.
The Spurs found themselves down by only two with just 48 seconds left. Tie the game and it would be a toss-up on which way things could end.
But Tim Duncan missed a gimme layup that could have changed the course of the game (but probably wouldn't have, when you really think about it).
SOMEONE DIPPED SOME COBRADICK IN TIM DUNCAN'S GATORADE!
LeBron took the ball down the court with just 40 seconds remaining, dribbled to his left, paused, took it down toward the center, took a first quick step past the three-point line, bumped into Parker, stopped, squared himself, and...
LeClutch.
In one moment in time, LeBron (once again) took all the "not clutch, not mentally tough, not big in moments" talk, rolled it up into a ball, and shoved it so far up Skip Bayless' ass, a couple of fingers poked out of Skip's nostrils.
James knocked down the shot cleanly and sealed the game and the title.
And when the smoke clears, and the destruction is cleaned up, and the Haterz wake up with a LeBron James-sized hole in their rectum, Heat Nation can sit back, crack open a beer or two, put on their shades and have a glorious summer.
The Miami Heat are back-to-back champions.
And here's the fun part: LeBron is still only 28-years old.
PREPARE YOUR ANUS, AMERICA.
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