Premise for a science-fiction movie: Send hundreds of young athletes into the teeth of a pandemic, where they will live inside bubbles, compete in a sport that requires them to sweat and breathe on one another in pursuit of prizes.
What could go wrong with a real-life version of the Hunger Games?
Turns out, nothing.
The strangest basketball season ever is over, and the combatants have returned to a version of normal life that may seem less normal than their recent, cloistered existence.
The 2020 season will be remembered as that time basketball survived the coronavirus, which is accurate but inadequate. In 2020, our professional basketball leagues became the best possible versions of American life.
They inflated their bubbles in Florida, perhaps our worst-run and most infected state, and, through some combination of inspired leadership and personal discipline, thrived.
They performed with class and without complaint. They spoke against racism and institutional brutality, proving for once and ever that athletes dribble just as well when they refuse to shut up.
They provided hours of high-level entertainment and intrigue to those of us who have spent this year stuck on our couches.