THE stage has been set, people. We come together to stand apart.

Before you think of any Survivor reality-type shows, please know that I’m talking about the NBA Finals. Pardon the drama, but we Filipinos are a basketball-crazy country after all.

No matter how much anyone tries to deny it (we’re too short, we’re too slow, we’re subdued by our colonial masters), no one can ever deny the pleasure that an orange ball swishing through a steel ring gives us. It’s hardwired into our DNA, and it’s here to stay.

How do we know the Finals are upon us? All work/play stops at around 9 a.m. because everyone is glued to whatever feed they have of the games—television, online streaming, someone’s smuggled cell phone at work.

It’s more than just watching a basketball game; we’re watching a narrative play itself out in real-time. Does LeBron James, now 33 years old, still have what it takes to carry this 2018 team, which is almost as ravaged as his 2007 team? Do the Warriors, the offensive juggernauts redefining the way basketball is being played, still have the fire and moxie to show the world that they are that good and are here to stay?

Let’s not even talk about the substories unfolding in this series, with strategic adjustments and counter-adjustments being made on the fly that would make even chess masters proud.

Hand-in-hand with the Finals are diehard fans of both teams engaging each other in friendly (mostly not) rounds of trash talk, analysis, and betting. I am amazed at how certain friends who only post about their dinners and #travelgoals suddenly level up with “counterplay” and “defensive breakdown” in their lawyer/sports analyst rebuttals to each other. Also equally amazing is how hostile some people get. It’s so bad you’d think Person A spoiled the ending of Deadpool 2 to Person B.

Don’t forget the inside jokes made at the expense of a friend getting too enthusiastic over his team. These would be offensive to casual acquaintances but only serve to prompt more and more inappropriate jokes until one can’t remember how it even started. I myself have said a few things that would make my mom wash my mouth with soap, and I regret nothing.

What was it someone said? “Friends will pick you up when you’re down; true friends pick you up after having a good laugh at your expense.” The Finals are better with friends you can talk trash to and laugh with at the same time.

In case anyone is interested, I don’t give a darn about the Finals. The Houston Rockets have been eliminated, and my heart is cold and empty.