June's Sports Lacking Drama, So Leave It to HBO

I'm not sure what was worse to watch over the weekend: LeBron and the Cavs getting squashed by the Spurs in the second game of the NBA Finals, or my Mets getting spanked around Comerica Park by the Tigers in Interleague play. On that note, watching the Rocket pitch the Yankees to another win on Saturday was enough to make my stomach churn too.

What can you do? We're into that summer stretch of the sports year when events like the French Open final (Nadal just owns Federer on the clay) and the Belmont Stakes (Curlin nipped by a nose!) give way to tournaments like golf's U.S. Open and the NCAA's College World Series. Primo material? Absolutely not, but then, it sure is hard to find right now.

Let's face it: the Cavaliers have no chance of beating the Spurs this year. As in zero percent of possibility. As in nada. Cleveland just doesn't have enough weapons besides the King-ly one. Sasha Pavlovic and Larry Hughes? Anderson Varejao and Drew Gooden? Gimme a break! You can make the argument that this year's Cavs are the worst team ever to make an NBA Finals. Which isn't to take anything away from the Spurs---a Patriots-like organization that is now on the verge of its fourth championship in nine years. Tim Duncan is flat-out the best power forward of all-time. Tony Parker is an all-world point guard and Manu Ginobli is as versatile a perimeter player as there is in the game today. But San Antonio just isn't sexy.

Sexy is something the NBA hasn't really had since MJ left Chicago. It's something a lot of sports still lack. But HBO's long-running mob drama Sopranos has always had it in droves. Finally, after seven plus seasons of high-level entertainment, the Jersey-based program hung it up for good---supposedly---last night. And what can you say about the finale? There was never going to be a closing storyline that made everyone happy, there was no way it was ever going to completely appease the masses. Yet I think David Chase ended his show relatively strongly.

Look at what you had in the capper: AJ wakes from his season long depression after narrowly avoiding being blown up his car. Meadow has her eyes set on a legal career. Tony's crew hits back at the New York contingent by tracking down (with the Feds' help) and whacking Phil Leotardo. Nothing happens to Paulie or Uncle Junior; they're left to wallow in their delirious realities. It's the last scene though, that's left everyone up in arms.

The Sopranos---one by one---make their way into a diner for a meal. Tony cues up Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" on the jukebox. The camera gets ominous as it pans around to a couple of sketchy guys who eyeball the Soprano crew. The tension builds and the viewer is made to believe that something---big, small, whatever---is about to happen. But it never does. As Meadow heads through the door, Tony's eyes dart up, and the camera cuts quickly to black . . . No last line, no slam bang finale. Just the end.

I'm a big believer that the show should have ended two years ago when it was still truly relevant and on top of its game. But this final season did not disappoint. Instead we were left with the Soprano family struggling to keep its balance, eyes always looking over the shoulder, warily moving on into the future. To paraphrase MacArthur, here in the context of Sopranos, "Great shows never die, they just fade away...."

Ain't it the truth.

-JAB