You know that feeling when a song parts the veil of reality and cuts down to the deepest parts of you. Hearing those words, and that melody, knowing that itās speaking directly to you and your experience, offering insight, redemption, relief, a path to a better life. No? Just me then?
Okay, well, you know when you hear a song and it reminds you of someone else? Cool. I picked a bunch of songs that remind me of players and teams that are going to be in the NBA playoffs. Itās probably the least insightful way to preview or prepare for the postseason, but as recompense I offer way more Neil Diamond than youāll find in any other NBA preview.
Without further ado, your definitive 2017 NBA playoff playlist.
(In the interests of full disclosure, I have terrible taste in music).
Russell Westbrook: āI am, I saidā by Neil Diamond
A few years ago, this used to be my unofficial theme song for LeBron James. It conjures the image of a simple man crying out against the universe, looking to define his own identity simply by stating it in his own words. In last yearās Finals, LeBron finished that story for himself, with words and actions he made himself in what he wanted to be, so clearly that there was no way for the universe to argue.

Now, itās Russell Westbrookās turn. He stated his MVP case. He defined himself as a player with Kevin Durant. He solidified his place in franchise lore and in the historical record books. All thatās left is to keep shouting it into the void until the universe finally takes notice.
Milwaukee Bucks: āRunninā Down A Dreamā by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers
Letās be honest, winning a playoff series is probably just a dream for the Milwaukee Bucks at this point. They came farther than anyone realistically projected this year. They watched Giannis Antetokounmpo blossom into a top-10 player in the league. They survived injuries to both Jabari Parker and Khris Middleton and have locked down a playoff spot. They also are staring down a wall of teams that are just a little bit better than them in the top half of the conference. Maybe they get through Washington or Toronto. Anything more seems implausible. So what do you do, when youāre young, when you feel so good, like anything is possible? You just keep running down that dream.
Los Angeles Clippers: āWhere Did I Go Wrong?ā by Martin Sexton
Sometimes you do everything you can and it isnāt enough. Sometimes the tighter you hold onto something the more it slips through your fingers. Sometimes your heart just breaks and you canāt see why it had to be that way. And sometimes youāre the Los Angeles Clippers.
Golden State Warriors: āRun Home and Cryā by The Sweetback Sisters
The Warriors donāt care about you. They donāt care about your stars or your offensive strategies or your adorable little playoff upset scenarios. All the ask is that you play your hardest and donāt get any tears on the hardwood when itās all over.
Tony Allen: āFever Dogā by Stillwater
The Memphis Grizzlies are different this season, but probably not different enough. They shoot some more 3-pointers, but the roster is still heavy on the veteran experience end and any path to a surprising playoff run involves grinding their opponents down to a nub. This is Conley and Gasolās team, as it always has been, but some of their finest playoff moments as a group have been defined by Tony Allenās suffocating defense. The Grizzlies want to make one more big push. That means Allen has to connect. He has to get people covered. He has to find that one guy who isnāt coveredā¦and make him get covered.
Houston Rockets: āBrother Loveās Traveling Salvation Showā by Neil Diamond
The Houston Rockets are a hard-shell preacher, traveling from town to town converting the indigent masses to the beautiful gospel of efficiency and 3-point shooting. James Harden hammers on the organ, while Mike DāAntoni preaches with the wild energy of a young John Belushi, limbs flailing, mustache dripping with sweat. Trevor Ariza has been saved. Sam Dekker has heard The Word. Ryan Anderson and Eric Gordon has entered the holiest of basketball kingdoms.
Pack up the babies, grab the old ladies, and watch the Rockets do their thing.
Chicago Bulls: āThis is a sad songā by Winston Schmidt, Winston Bishop, and friends
Can you think of a better metaphor for the Chicago Bulls than a drunken cop doing an Aaron Neville impression while an equally soused marketing representative raps in the background?
Boston Celtics: āThe Middleā by Jimmy Eat World
I know the Boston Celtics feel pressure to win a playoff series, to establish themselves as legit contenders, to validate a strong season and trade deadline deals left undone. They have a good chance to pull off something special. The roster is deep and talented. Theyāll need to catch a few breaks but thatās true of every NBA champion ever. In the end, all the can do is their best, and trust that everything will be okay. Knowing that they could end up with the No. 1 pick in the next two NBA drafts probably helps.
Kawhi Leonard: āBack in Blackā by AC/DC
Just picture Kawhi Leonard, standing perfectly still, eyes staring deep into your soul, while pyrotechnics explode behind him, Angus Young spasming around with his guitar and knickers. Terrifying, right?
Utah Jazz: āNo Money, No Honeyā by Charlie Hunter
Jazz for the jazz. I know, itās every NBA fanās favorite geo-musical joke ā the Jazz play in Utah where Jazz is illegal. But, in truth, this roster is more Jazz ensemble than perhaps any other team in the league. They may not be as freewheeling and free as the Rockets or Warriors, but the Jazz have a group that can handle any sort of arrangement. Improvising with lineups and defensive matchups, adjusting on the fly and figuring it out as they go has kept the Jazz afloat as they battled injuries this season. As Charlie says above, everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.
LeBron James: āHello Againā by Neil Diamond
Iām bookending things with another entry from Americaās greatest songwriter (and second-greatest live performer). Itās playoff time. That means itās LeBron time.
Heās just here to say, āHello.ā