I’m Italian—I open there because I definitely don’t consider myself German.  Yet, on Tuesday night, I learned something about myself (other than the fact that I can spell schadenfreude without using spell-check): I am perfectly capable of taking joy in someone else’s misery…which, in case you haven’t studied for the SATs lately, is what the German word schadenfreude describes.

What I’m talking about here is the fact that I am, among other things (including being Italian), a Lakers fan.  As such, there are certain things that I love, such as the Lakers, the colors purple and gold, and Kobe Bryant.  There are also things that I hate: the Kings, the Celtics, and, maybe more than anyone else, the Spurs.  The same Spurs who were eliminated from the playoffs by the Dallas Mavericks Tuesday night, in a 106-93 victory that made it clear from start to finish that the Spurs were overmatched.

The same Spurs who hadn’t been eliminated from the first round of the playoffs since 2000, the same Spurs who’ve collected four titles in the last decade, and who eliminated the Lakers from the playoffs in 2003, and who won the championship in 2005 when the Lakers were sitting at home with me, twiddling their thumbs and waiting for their lottery pick.

Okay, sure, it hasn’t been the most even rivalry, since the Lake-Show pretty much eliminated the Spurs from the playoffs every other time they played over the last ten years.  And it’s true, a casual fan might never have grown to hate the Spurs the way it was so easy to hate the swagger and Nor-Cal flair of the Kings, or the historic arrogance of the C’s…but there’s just something about the Spurs that it’s impossible to not hate (I think his name is Tim Duncan…).

Not all sports fans are like this—some people, from what I’ve heard, will only rejoice in the triumph of their own team, and not just the downfall of an enemy.  And on some levels (namely youth and high school athletics), that’s a perfectly honorable, respectable way to root for your team.  But this is the NBA, my friends—there’s crying in San Antonio, and I couldn’t be happier.