NBA Finals 2005: Notes from a Game Seven
‘Twas the night of game seven, and all through the ‘hood/Not a creature was stirring, ’cause it was all good.
It’s a quarter to midnight in a small neighbourhood on the south coast of England, and you could hear a pin land on a pillow in the streets. Not a single light shows from the apartment block across the way, every household apparently slumbering soundly. It’s as if the whole world is unaware that the biggest game of the year is a few hours from tipping off.