Sunday, February 26, 2006

 

"Hate Me For My Stupid Fouls"

A stellar win. The Celtics shoved ESPN's aching desire for a night of Kobe Bryant highlights straight up the worldwide leader's ass and took down the Lakers by moving the ball and playing a solid team game. We got huge nights from Pierce, Ryan Gomes and Delonte West, while the LaKobes were pretty much unable to muster anything to supplement Mamba's huge night beyond an inconsistent Lamar Odom and what amounted to a coming out party for Ronny Turiaf.

The game was fairly close throughout and although the Celtics were up by 12 during a monster 37 point 3rd quarter, it had the feeling of a game that was heading to the wire. Indeed, this shit truly got decided when Delonte West, who was covered with the figurative sperm of 3 ESPN announcers figuratively whacking off on him all night, fouled out with 3 minutes to go and the Celtics up 4. It was the moment where we reasonably expect the Celtics to implode, and while they kind of did, they still managed to hold on via a huge offensive rebound/put back by Ryan Gomes and a mind bogglingly bad foul by Kobe on Pierce with 3.7 seconds left in the game. A missed Kobe shot later and the Celtics were dancing off the court with one of their more unlikely wins of the season.

On the player side of things, Pierce had a solid mano-a-mano with Kobe, doing most of his damage from the line, winding up with 39 points and the game winning free throw. Raef continued his string of quietly respectable games, lending credence to the theory that playing next to Perk makes him a low-performing power forward rather than his traditional position as low-expectation center. Orien Green... I can't talk about Orien without risking a headache, but he did hit one big free throw. Brian Scalabrine was his usual embarrassment, and while the ESPN guys politely refrained from tearing him apart, Doc Rivers took a big public shit on him when he committed one of the dumbest 24 second clock violations the Assocation has ever seen. If you saw it, you know what I mean. Remarkable stuff.

Anyway, tonight was a very good win over a kinda-quality opponent, and having suffered much during my childhood because of those fucks in the purple and gold, I still think it's a special thing to beat the Lakers. Now if we could only beat, like, you know, the Nets or the Magic.

Player of the Game - Ryan Gomes. Pierce had the gaudy numbers, but Ryan basically won the game with his sick rebound over three Lakers that kept the Celtics momentum moving forward in the waning moments of the game. His 19/12 seemed completely effortless and entirely within the flow of the game, something even Al Jefferson cannot claim to have yet accomplished. To think that this dude from Waterbury is out there schooling the likes of Chris Mihm and Kwame Brown at the Staples Center in front of Jack Nicholson is just plain weird. To think that he couldn't beat out the likes of Justin Reed for minutes earlier this season is even weirder.

Hamcock - Wally Sczcerbiak. It very well could have gone to the always deserving Brian Scalaburine (who keeps racking up the tittypoints at a record pace), but tonight Wally had yet another game where his outside shot was on the fritz (4-12) and he gave us nothing down the stretch. I mean, we're a team with no consistent offensive options beyond Pierce and Delonte, so if we can't count on Wally to put the ball in the bucket in close games, what the fuck is the point in having him out there? To serve as the catalyst for humorous broadcast moments where the announcers confuse him with Raef LaFrentz and then refuse to correct themselves for fear of injecting some kind of racial tinge to the proceedings? Alright, fine, I answered my own question.

Quote of the Night - "He gets fouled by Kobe from behind," Tim Legler. Little could be less interesting in life than listening to an ESPN broadcast team call a game with their usual mixture of Kobe worship and awkward hyper-masculine dynamics, but I took on this abuse to my dignity as a viewer in order to get a night of from Heinsohn's degenerate boosterism. This Legler comment serves as the springboard for a joke about rape, the dual meaning of the word 'foul,' the way in which language changes through context, and a common sexual position performed uncommonly over a chair. I leave it to you to make it.

Thursday, February 23, 2006

 

Just like the Utah game only much, much different

Quantum mechanics teaches us that there are no true certainties, only raw probability amidst the governance of chance, but no one with a brain in their head could have thought of tonight's final result was anything other than a fait accompli. Granted, the Celtics played quite a bit harder than expected and the Suns fucked around a little less efficiently than one would have presumed, but for all the relentless broadcast hype to the contrary, this one was really never in doubt. The Celtics got behind early, see-sawed throughout the game, and went down swinging in a not-as-close-as-it-looked final two minutes.

The Suns were dominant, but not frighteningly so, as Steve Nash had probably his worst game of the season and the whole Suns team played something that looked like defense but wasn't quite. The Celtics were game in trying to play spoiler, but under the best of circumstances we'd be fucked, and not having the services of Perk, Al and Wally SzczDamagedGoods didn't help. So it was a cutesy character building loss that will occupy its own mantle in the large collection of fools gold many Celtics fans keep tucked away inside their big imaginative hearts.

On the player side of things, the most interesting development was Gerald Green playing some meaningful minutes and actually rising to the challenge. He ended up with 15 points and, outside of the fact that he has yet to grasp the concept of moving without the ball, he looked much more confident and NBA ready than he ever has before. Look for Doc to bench him from here on in. The other big story was that Delonte West had a career night with 30 points, three of which were owed to a sick half-court buzzer-beater at the end of the 3rd. Tony Allen was alternately horrific and decent. Raef was solid, Pierce sucked in the 2nd half, and Ryan Gomes continued his steady play.

To sum it up - no surprises in the big picture, but not the worst loss one could imagine. I'm really fucking tired, so on to the awards.

Player of the Game - Shawn Marion. Last time he won this, we discussed his stupid sneaker commercial, but tonight the Matrix really deserved our highest "honor" by surpassing his somewhat surprisingly low career high of 41 points with 44. Two summers ago this dude was in every trade rumor you'd hear (including for our own rumor mill grist Paul Pierce), now serving as Steve Nash's primary bullseye, he is a top 15 talent. Just goes to show what an impact player can do vs. an overrated yet productive wing player. Sorry, sorry, sorry, what I meant to say was that perhaps in today's era of vastly lowered expectations, CelticsDoom should get on the bus and compare Bird/Dominique 1988 to Delonte/Marion 2006. Yeah! Best shootout ever!

Hamcock - Brian Scalabrine. This one was primarily for the sequence in the 2nd quarter when he bricked a 20 ft jumpshot, got the long rebound and immediately bricked another. Classic Scalaburine - one for the time capsule. Granted, he had a nice hustle move in the 4th, going to the floor to maintain possession, but there really can be no question that this useless dick does far more harm than good while on the floor. With an impending rotational trainwreck ahead whenever Doc tries to reintegrate Al and Perk, watch for this fuckhead to get all the minutes instead of the vastly more deserving Ryan Gomes. It just belies all rational explanation the grip this guy has on his position.

Quote of the Night - "JoJo's done just an admirable job," Tommy Heinsohn via telephone. After the disastrous Cedric Maxwell experiment from earlier in the season, it seems the well has run dry of former Celtic stars willing to beat the broadcast drum and play nice-nice with Gorman when Heinsohn takes ill. Fortunately, at least for the dozens left who give a fuck about the Celtics and are over the age of 40, JoJo White was available to grace us all with his utterly humorless analysis. It has become clear why the former Finals MVP has lingered on the Celtics payroll in some vague capacity for all these years - JoJo has the sound of a man you just do not fuck with. Unlike Tommy whose bullying demeanor ultimately comes off as so much hot air, JoJo gives the scary impression that his thoughts are well considered and deadly serious when he utters such dangerous nonsense as "this reminds me of last night's game against Utah" and "the Celtics can win this game." In short, he is a terrifyingly intense company man, and when one considers that Mark Blount counted JoJo among his only friends in the organization, it paints a grim picture of a wild-card true believer running amok behind the scenes with a fake title and loads of free time. That, my friends, is how professional grade Kool-Aid is made.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

 

Double Cleveland Steamer

A tough double-OT loss that felt so improbable as it unfolded it seemed as if the Celtics were fated to win. Cruel reality reigned supreme, however, as Pierce fouled out with around a minute left in OT2 and the hapless Celtic-remainders could find no way of scoring without him.

The Cavaliers for the most part underwhelmed, and it seems as if their team has a serious basketball IQ drop-off after Mr.'s James and Snow leave the court. Or maybe they just felt embarrassed playing against the likes of Orien Greene and Brian Scalabrine, and it was shame that kept the game close. At one point in the 2nd quarter, as the Celtics 2nd unit flailed around wildly and fell behind by 10, I wrote the phrase "the sad dance of bewildered clowns" on my notepad, and I think it sums that part of the game up quite well.

The story of the Celtics this game was very simple - no one other than Pierce could get anything going on offense, so he essentially took the game over and threw down a career high 50 before fouling out. He saddled that very fine and somewhat frightening line between "putting the team on his shoulders" and "blatantly ignoring his teammates," but we'll give him the benefit of the doubt as it was clear early on that tonight his teammates mostly deserved to be ignored. Delonte had his best "pocket Lafayette Lever" game since opening night, which was fittingly punctuated throughout the broadcast by Tommy's ridiculous hyper-defensive "Delonte's really a point guard and fuck everyone who doesn't think he is" commentary. Yeah yeah yeah, Tommy, he's John Fucking Stockton.

So yeah, Pierce made the Celtics look respectable from the 3rd quarter on, and although they fell short, it wasn't the kind of effort that made you embarrassed to be a fan. Long game, long night, and I'm tired. Let's get to the awards.

Player of the Game - LeBron James. With a sterling 42/11/12 line, the King of the Association did not disappoint the thousands of fans who came to the TDB Garden primarily to see him play. No one outside of the Celtics fanbase takes this LeBron/Pierce rivalry seriously, but it is kind of funny how desperately Pierce wants to stick it to the league's golden boy. Tonight's performance should get Pierce plenty of run on Sportscenter, but he's still just a regional star and LeBron's still the savior.

Hamcock - Brian Scalabrine. In the second overtime we saw this dipshit try to thread an impossible pass to Paul Pierce through three defenders and then brick a wide open top-of-the-key three pointer. Even Heinshon gave him some shit, which is akin to Paris Hilton telling Tara Reid she parties too much. I guess the "little things" Scalabrine provides include turnovers at crucial points in the game along with the occasional missed wide-open look. Yup, ladies and gentlemen we give you your Bewildered Clown #1.

Quote of the Night - "The last great shootout I saw was Larry Bird vs. Dominique Wilkins. Maybe this will match it!" Tommy Heinsohn, breathlessly pumping up the Pierce/Lebron "all star vs. all star" matchup. An utterly disgraceful violation of Celtics history, as Tommy "Kill Yr Idols" Heinsohn dared compare one of the greatest moments in Boston team-sports playoff lore with a meaningless mid-season contest between these likely lottery bound Celtics and a decent-but-not-yet-great Cavaliers team. I know, I know, it was a great game and the Pierce/LeBron thing actually delivered, but please, comparing 1988 with any game this year is like two gay cowboys comparing Brokeback Mountain sex to a $2 truck-stop hand job. Ain't even close Tommy.

Friday, February 10, 2006

 

Failblazers

When troubled-songwriter/Portland-native Elliot Smith drove a kitchen knife through his own heart in October of 2003, he could not have imagined what an appropriate metaphor his suicide would make for the effort put forth tonight by his hometown basketball team. So shamefully apathetic were the Blazers that the game often felt as if we were playing against five Mike Olowakandi's backed up by seven Mark Blount's, and by God the Celtics took advantage of it, destroying these weak-willed fucks in a good old fashioned steamrolling.

That said, there really isn't much to recount in detail. The Celtics dominated the entire game, demonstrating a fairly crisp passing game that led to a pair of huge nights from Pierce and Wally. The Blazers stood around like morons while the Celtics re-implemented the 3-point line weave that had worked so well earlier in the season at getting players to move without the ball. Zac Randolph, who more and more resembles some kind of mutated man-slug out of an HP Lovecraft story or one of those Orcs in the Lord of the Rings movies, showed why he's the only 18/9 man in the league that absolutely no one else wants on their team. Thought Mark Blount was stealing from team owners? This fuck is minting bills with his own money machine and shoving them up Paul Allen's ass one small denomination at a time.

On the player side of things, Doc kept a short rotation until garbage time, and as such there was no "Pierce goes to the bench for Orien Greene" moment where we see "bad 12 point swing up ahead" written all over it. Ryan Gomes started and proved exactly what many of us have thought all along - he is a solid low post player who should have been getting steady minutes all season. Pierce had a monster shooting game, Raef came alive, and Orien Greene made my head ache. During the last 9 minutes of terribly officiated garbage time we saw new face "what's his name" Jones get some time and prove possibly a more serviceable 15th man than Curtis Borchardt. Gerald Green looked like a precious 19 year old (tossing his headband after bricking two free throws) until he laid down a monster dunk that was Kedrick Brown-ian in its "this guy probably sucks but I still wish he played a lot" factor.

So basically, good game, nice win, but I'll be a lot more impressed if we can do it it against the Magic on Sunday.

Player of the Game - Ryan Gomes. I think it's fair to say that Ryan helped establish an early tone, out hustling the aforementioned sack of shit Zac Randolph and pulling down 7 boards in the first half alone. His numbers were a modest yet fully representative 4/9, and he showed exactly why his smooth, unforced game was chosen over the departed Justin Reed, who often played basketball as if he were the human embodiment of quantum field fluctuations. So anyway, Ryan, from all the sick motherfuckas at St. Mary's Hospital, to all your fly homies at the Seven Angels Theater, and to the keepin-it-reeeeeeal kids on the way to the creepiest TGI Fridays in America (next to the Barnes and Noble Bookstore, yo), Waterbury CT says to its favorite son - "Knowing Doc, You Probably Won't Play Next Game!"

Hamcock - Tony Allen. It's getting embarrassing, he's afraid to shoot and just looks completely fucked in the head. Someone ought to suggest putting Inmate #42 down until his legal fate is determined, because right now he's tittyfucking the team concept every time he's on the floor. Outside of leading the team in audibly screamed "fuck"'s making it onto the FSN broadcast, this dude has done nothing good for the team all year.

Quote of the Night - "Boooo!" RickyDFan. I'm assuming this one, but our great, great, great pal RickyDFan was at the game tonight and promised that he would unload on the hated Wally Szczerbiak from his fourth row seats. Handsome Wally started off 0-3, so I'm assuming RDF was able to vent his spleen most satisfactorily. If he gave the finger to the former Buckets Brigade, all the better.

Thursday, February 09, 2006

 

Notes From a Free Fall

There are naught but crumbs left on our plate for the rest of this dismal season, and only two storylines remaining of any real interest for anyone but the most obsessive diehard – namely, the fate of Paul Pierce and Doc Rivers. Today we waste our time, and yours, examining these subplots.

DOC
Doc Rivers is a failure by any and all applicable standards of NBA coaching, and his removal is a necessary first step in bringing a degree of credibility back to the franchise. From the refusal to defend the inbounds pass in the 2nd game of the season (against Detroit), to the maddeningly inconsistent rotations (including the inexplicable early season burial of a productive Kendrick Perkins), to the continued unwillingness to truly develop the young players (e.g. – Ryan Gomes), Doc has failed so spectacularly that his career is in a free fall with an irreparably damaged reputation throughout the league. Which brings us to the point – will Doc walk or does he need to be pushed?

By all reasonable measure of human expectation, there is no doubt he should be fired. Unfortunately, Danny has placed so much stock in Rivers that removing him requires the admission failure to such a degree that it would necessitate questioning Ainge’s continued employment. This is not palatable to either Danny or the Banner 17 consortium who invested so much PR capitol in painting a rosy picture of the former on-the-court adversaries/new-best-frens (sic) leading the franchise, hand in manly hand, to the promised land. Doc, on the other hand, needs to salvage some degree of honor, and only through an ironclad excuse or a sudden turnaround is he going to avoid his destiny as a first-rate laughingstock.

As we have seen, the “poor Doc, so far away from home” spin has already been injected into the local news bloodstream, lending credibility to the idea that a “no hard feelings” buy out is imminent, and Doc will be sent away with a big fat check and mapquest directions to a TNT broadcast booth. The conventional wisdom, which I subscribe to, is that something quite like this is on the way, but he’ll stick it out to the end of the season.

My only advice to the Celtics would be that they impose a far stricter gag-order on the man-who-would-be-coach than they did on the human embarrassment that was John Carroll. Carroll’s public motherfucking of a franchise that went above and beyond to keep him financially whole in the wake of his 3 month post-OB babysitting gig is one of the most shameful displays of ingratitude this reporter has ever seen. I am no fan of Wyc and Co., but they allowed Carroll to linger on the payroll for far longer than he deserved, and the least he could have done was keep his stupid mouth shut about the experience while writing unreadable/un-insightful columns for the worldwide leader. Money, in this case, should definitely have talked.

PIERCE
Paul Pierce was named to the All-Star reserve squad today, a meaningless token that virtually no one takes seriously and only a tiny handful of people without financial ties to the Celtics even care about. Pierce deserves the honor this year just as much as he did not deserve it last year, but the whole thing has been received with a collective shrug, and a subtle acknowledgement among many fans that Gilbert Arenas was at least equally deserving of the honor. Nonetheless, it is what it is, and for many reasons this will most likely be Paul’s final appearance as an all-star. Even in this, his career year, he has proven incapable of carrying a team on his own, and his future will likely either entail 1) dominating the offense on a struggling Celtics team, or 2) playing a less central role on a winning team. In either case, he is both old news and a known quantity to a league that obsesses over new faces and reliable winners. He is not likely to eclipse this season in terms of personal/stat productivity, and thus he will be perceived as being on a downswing while his team continues to struggle.

So the question remains, will Pierce be moved out, or will he be gifted with a max contract extension from Wyc and the boys for continuing to serve as the face of the franchise? This blog has made its opinion clear, but it is equally clear that there is heavy-duty resistance to the concept of shipping out Pierce and starting completely anew. The Wally Szczerbiak trade was a shocking confirmation of the self-delusion at work in the front office, and the continued belief that the team can build a winner around Pierce over the next few years.

Obviously, the most likely course of action is inaction, and the forces-that-be will congratulate themselves for running such a great organization that they can hold onto their “franchise player” even while the franchise regresses and spins its wheels. Pierce will sign an extension, as most NBA players do, because the money is right and the situation is comfortable (see Ray Allen). The crowds will dwindle, we will continue to make marginal trades, and sometime around 2020 ole #34 will be raised to the rafters by a new ownership group that wants to pay tribute to a past most Celtics fans will by that point have forgotten. And like rabbits we will all eat our young.

Saturday, February 04, 2006

 

Magical Misery Tour

If it didn't waste two hours of my life that could be better spent doing almost anything (ie - masturbating, cleaning fish tanks, watching fine cinema, or all of the above), I might be able to appreciate these Celtics games more as performance art/comedy. It has gotten to the point where we know what's going to happen and can only be amazed every game by how little the reality varies from our assumptions. We are generally guaranteed the following - the Celtics will either fall behind early or implode at some point in the second quarter, eventually climb back in the game, and then come up short in a fourth quarter rally that will make the game seem much closer than it really was. Tonight was no exception, although the gutless lethargy on display in the first quarter was interesting in light of the fact that these players know full well how much Shits Rivers wants to win on his former home floor.

So yeah, 4 quarters of mind numbing, mediocre basketball played by two teams that are sitting next to each other in the middle of the NBA pack for a brief moment before heading off in separate directions. I'll let you guess who's going down. I had a challenging week personal-relationship wise, so in lieu of a description of tonight's meaningless exercise in fulfilling the demands of the Association's schedule makers, I'd like to instead talk about a few things I haven't had time to write about all week.

1) I'm really sick of Mike and Tommy praising defensive "effort" on plays where the opposing team scores. A recent egregious example of this was during a "last night in the NBA"-thing when Mike praised Deshawn Stevenson for getting a game winning jumper buried in his face by Joe Johnson. "He got his left hand up." Please. How many goddamn times do I have to hear that Pierce "did all he could do to contain him" when some guy torches him in the face of utter indifference? Let's all agree that generally speaking, if a guy scores, the defense didn't do its job.

2) That Foxwoods commercial with the fat guy and his big green titties is back and it really makes me ill. How did this ad survive the pitch process, let alone get filmed? Not only does it commit true violence on all accepted notions of the beauty of the human form, but it also contains some of the worst written "likeable workin' man" lingo this side of a preening political ad. Bake my scrod indeed. What's next, Brian Scalabrine in a thong?

3) I found Bill Simmons' favorite blog's recent attack on the fanbase ("scapegoating") shocking. I like the author of the piece, but my God, this team is a complete fucking disaster (see above), why shouldn't the fans obsess a bit on ascribing blame? The record speaks for itself, there is no hiding from the fact that the Celtics are an embarrassment and are at least 5 years away from being a consistently competitive team. Any franchise that can sell the idea of stockpiling picks for the 2008 draft to its fanbase with a straight face is in dire, dire trouble. Everyone who is blamed full well fucking deserves it. Especially Coc.

4) I missed last night's game but the loss of Al Jefferson might very well save his ass from getting moved in a compulsive Ainge trading-deadline move. Unless we're getting Chris Bosh back, I'm not liking the rumors about him being shipped out.

Anyway, back to tonight: On the player side of things, we had another pointless "great performance in a loss" from Pierce, a brief Gerald Green siting, and a solid outing from Perk. Wally Szczerbiak still can't szczshoot, Delonte looks more and more overwhelmed, and Ryan Gomes wasn't deemed worthy of earning minutes in this post-Al Jefferson injury world. Orien Greene impressed the 94 people who came to see him with his uncanny ability to get time on an NBA court even though it appears as if he would have trouble cracking the rotation for the semi-pro Marathon Oil squad. Oh yeah, also, Coc "went small" which I mention only to inspire more fine comedy from our treasured commentators.

Player of the Game - Dwight Howard. He's a theater man, a hardcore Christian, and the best under 21 player in the game not named LeBron. Or is LeBron 21 now? Anyway, this dude is a true cornerstone player and I am filled with hateful envy every time I see him play. His post game interview with Mike and Tommy was David Stern's ultimate wet dream - an articulate and polite NBA star with no tattoos or detectable sense of burning resentment.

Hamcock - Brian Scalabrine. With Al on the shelf, it is truly 'Urine time, and our worthless honkey sometime-blogger has a chance to lock up the season-end Hamcock of the Year award. What we learned tonight is that he might lead the league in agreeing with referee's calls that go against him. Keep nodding Scallywag, they're the only ones watching who don't hate you.

Quote of the Night - "When you think about it, these guys could be banging each other for the next 10 or 12 years," Mike Gorman on the topic of Perk and Dwight Howard. Best quote of the season, hands down. I can only ruin it by talking about it, but if there was a movie called Brokeback Perkin, I imagine the tagline would be - "I wish I could quit (losing to) you."

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

 

Phucked Up by Phoenix

Another classic, depressing loss that felt at once both avoidable and yet utterly inevitable. The Celtics came out as flat as a line reading from a typical UPN comedy, found themselves sitting on the ugly side of 20 at intermission, and then fell short in a mammoth 2nd half comeback led by a raging Paul Pierce. The comeback was impressive and exciting but also probably fools gold, as it was apparent early on that the Suns were interested in playing only as hard as they needed in order to win.

The big story of the night as far as we're concerned was the wildly misguided insertion of Brian Scalaburine into the starting lineup. This was, as our good friend myassholestnx predicted, a true Coc Rivers special. Not only is this honkey dope a disaster on the boards and real questionable on defense, but he's now so terrified of shooting the ball (and getting booed) that he keeps turning down open looks and passes the ball to people like Raef LaFrentz when there's 2 seconds left on the clock and defenders are draped all over him (him being Raef). The Celtics were so utterly disjointed and uninspired to start the game that this hugely stupid decision must be also entered as evidence in the ongoing case of CelticsDoom vs. Doc Rivers.

In other player news, Inmate #42 continued his streak of "why did we ever think this guy was any good?" games, Al Jefferson had a monster first half and a decent game overall, Perk was solid but is turning the ball over alot a la the late, unlamented Mark Blount. Pierce had a humongo game, scoring 33 points in the second half alone, but curiously continues to choke at the free throw line in key situations. Another in a long line of examples of why comparing him to Larry Bird is insulting and truly stupid.

So basically we got beat by a better team and made our lives much more difficult by only playing a single half of basketball. Which team are we? The collection of corpses and b-rate NBDL'ers from the first half, or the somewhat energized 3-point chucking .500-ish team that played close in the 2nd? Either way, it's a long fucking road from #17.

Player of the Game - Shawn Marion. I don't even care that he played well tonight, this is in honor of that hugely stupid sneaker advert where he excels in a 2-on-2 game with some anonymous guys in a gym while wearing a heavy kevlar vest. Is it just me or is that really anti-climactic when they show the vest in the end? I mean, I would expect he'd probably beat a couple of rec league guys in a pick up game while wearing weights or something to impede his movement, he is after all a huge NBA star. Want to impress me? Want to blow my mind with something utterly unfathomable and have me buy his goddamn sneakers? Have him beat those guys with Doc Rivers coaching him on the sideline. Now that's a commercial!

Hamcock - Wally Szczerbiak. 1-9 from the field and he had Heinsohn reduced to praising his picks and passes for want of any real production. The box score says he had 10 rebounds and 6 assists, but everyone who watched the game knows that this hardly reflects accurately on his lackluster performance. Interesting thing though, Wally has definitely filled the free-throw-butt-slap-gap that was created in the wake of the trading Mark Blount. This honkey pats his new 'mates down like he's looking for a hidden weapon or perhaps some pocket change. Get your fucking szcshands off me!

Quote of the Night - "They have to learn their lines, as character actors," Tommy Heinsohn on the continued struggles of Orien Greene and "Birdy" Allen. We haven't heard Tommy pull out the "Celtics as a Broadway production" metaphor in quite a while, and it was nice to have our old friend/literary device trotted out and flogged anew. Here's a continuation of the metaphor, if I may - The Celtics have to acknowledge that the script is fatally flawed, the Director is dangerously stupid, the actors are never going to be stars, and the producers could give two fucks if we ever win a Tony award, just as long as there's a steady stream of paying customers. Break a leg, indeed.

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?