The crowd was going wild; high-fives abounding, highs and lows. It was the closing seconds of Game 3 of the NBA Finals, and the Boston Celtics had defeated the Golden State Warriors, 116-100. In an instant, the soundtrack at the bar – in San Francisco, of all places – drowned out the patrons. First, a banjo blared. Then came the accordion. The powerful thuds from the drums arrived.
Oh God. Oh no. It was Dropkick Murphys time.