And Boston Beats L.A.!

The Boston Celtics just beat the Los Angeles Lakers.

After more than two decades of waiting fruitlessly. After seeing Larry Bird and Kevin McHale play their last games and get sent off without a championship. After seeing Reggie Lewis crumple to the floor and die a few months later. After learning Paul Pierce had been stabbed. After seeing Rick Pitino bully his way off the coaching roster. After countless and meaningless trades. The one pre-season trade that mattered finally bore fruit. This era’s Big Three – Pierce, Garnett, and Allen – finally have a championship ring to call their own.





And it was not just those Three who played their hearts out. It was Kendrick Perkins and his massive defensive presence in the paint. Rajon Rondo and his fearless attack off the opponent’s dribble penetration. Eddie House and his three-pointers that brought down the, well, house. James Posey and his reliable shooting. Leon Powe and his repeated moments of brilliance (particularly in Game 2). Sam Cassell and his reassuring offensive presence. PJ Brown and his defensive stops. (And the odd thing was I never really liked those last two players. And now I admit they were phenomenal during this Finals series.)

People said Kevin Garnett single-handedly remade the team into a mean defensive machine. And that may be true. He transformed the Celtics culture into one that was defense-oriented. They got together in very early mornings to practice their pick and roll plays, their screens, and their defensive positions. John Thibodeau, the team’s assistant coach, was also instrumental in helping the team turn the defensive corner.

And Paul Pierce, that magnificent franchise player, finally got his due. He and the team made their own history, hung up their own banner. In time, he might get his number retired and hung from the rafters, too. And he definitely earned it. As the Finals MVP, he clawed his way through the Lakers’ defense and shot impressively from the field. He worked the perimeter, the paint, the three-point area. He played with heart and passion. He has certainly defined his role in the team and everyone in Boston are just so proud of this man who morphed from rookie who tried to do everything, into an All-Star player who could do anything.

But no one made my heart swell that night than Ray Allen. Despite his inclusion into the Big Three, he was constantly ragged on his inconsistent offense. His shooting was erratic, and he was seemingly absent from the playoffs. Analysts said he had the most to sacrifice from the trade – from being the star player of the Bucks and the Sonics, to the third shooter on a team that was just full of superstars and potential stars. He seemed to always be adjusting to how the ball was rotated, and he had to buckle down and start polishing up on defense if he couldn’t get the ball himself.

Come the first two rounds of the playoffs, Allen played miserably. But when the Finals against the Lakers rolled in, he became a different player. On two nights when Garnett and Pierce were less than impressive, Allen stepped up and became the only constant among the Big Three. In the Celtics’ first loss in Los Angeles, Allen was the only player who made his shots. And in Game Six, he tied the NBA Finals record for most three pointers made. He was hot and he was money, and he never let up even when the lead was padded up to an astronomical 40 points. And he was terrific on defense, too. He was able to guard Kobe Bryant, the one player this season whose greatness was unquestionable, and shut him down on several occasions. He was closest to Larry Bird for me – a terrific scorer and defender who quietly did his role and stepped above it. He was way too classy to get physical in the paint, but he penetrated the inside as fearlessly as Kevin or Paul. Remember his mismatch with Sasha Vujacic, whom he lost on his way to the basket? Or him getting poked in the eye by Lamar Odom? His success at the three-point area has made people forget that he could play the inside, too.

But the fans knew. When Ray Allen came back from his eye injury, the fans rewarded him with a rousing cheer and a standing ovation. But he simply nudged his teammates aside and sat on the bench and kept an eye on the game. He didn’t swagger into the court; he got there quick and seemed to make a mental note as to how to help. I love his quiet passion, and I am so happy that he was rewarded for it. He got a lot of love from the fans that night. And from me. I am so so SO GLAD he won.

And Doc Rivers. The man who almost got his ass handed to him last season. He turned the team around with his Tutu mantra of “ubuntu”. And the whole team listened. He and Danny Ainge, that Celtics point guard who was easy to hate during those days – they both turned the team around this season. My hat’s off to Danny Ainge, who really looked at the big picture and stuck with it. And big props to him for sticking with Doc Rivers.

My favorite moment of the championship celebration happened twice. Once, during the immediate on-court celebrations after the clock expired, Michelle Tafoya encountered Garnett in near tears and asked how he felt. Garnett immediately thanked, among other things, Minnesota. The one city who welcomed him when he first arrived as a pro player fresh out of high school. And on the podium, when Pierce and Allen gave their speeches. Like Garnett, they both thanked a city. Both of them thanked Boston. Pierce thanked Boston for sticking with him, even on the not-so-great years. And Allen thanked Boston for having him. I’ll say. Boston, the city with the most pride to give, THANKS YOU, Allen and Pierce and Garnett and Rivers and Ainge and the rest of the Celtics. And thank you for keeping the Auerbach love (and win record) alive.

We’ll see you guys again next year.

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Beat L.A.!

The Boston Celtics make their 20th trip to the NBA Finals.

Last Friday night, they displayed tenacity and poise as they surged ahead of the Detroit Pistons in the dying minutes of the game. It was the Celtics of old – great defense and a fantastic offensive trio backed by a supportive bench and a coach who kept his composure. I felt so proud of them. Finally, a championship series – against the Los Angeles Lakers! – that I can watch with pride.

When I was ten years old, I was stricken with chicken pox. I caught it from my older sister, which I should have expected since we shared a room. And I was extremely upset about it, since it meant missing weeks of school and staying cooped up in my room, all itchy and feverish and miserable. They sent me soup to eat in my bed for dinner. Alone. I was so upset, even as I turned on the television while eating, surfing for something to watch while I stewed on my own. As it turned out, there was a replay of the 1986 NBA championships that day – the Boston Celtics versus the LA Lakers.

I had forgotten what game it was, but I distinctly remember seeing the now-familiar parquet floor of the Boston Garden. I remember watching as I ate, transfixed by the action unfolding on the screen. It was the very first NBA game that I saw, and realized much later on that I was watching the two teams who were the best at the game at the time. Basketball fanatics called it the Golden Age of the NBA. Now that I am older, I realize that it may have been an exaggeration, especially since the eras of Havlicek, Russell, and Cousy also deserve mention. But I grew up in the eighties, and to me, my sports heroes consisted of the Boston Celtics’ starting five of that decade: Bird, McHale, Parish, Johnson, and Ainge.

What I also remember from watching that game of basketball many years ago was the serious competition displayed by the Lakers. I committed them to my memory just as strongly as I committed the Celtics. They were just as good as the Celtics were, both individually and as a team. I realized that Abdul-Jabbar was a force to be reckoned with, that Worthy lived up to his last name, that Magic Johnson gave Bird a run for his money, and both had benches that dug just as deep. But the Lakers were the flashier team – a culture spawned by the city they were in, I suppose. Even their coach, Pat Riley, was clothed in flashy Armani. Which was probably why I sided with Boston – they seemed to be the more hardworking and gutsy team, and played with a lot more heart. The ever likable coach KC Jones even had the quiet passion and fortitude to match. I related to that kind of attitude, and so I found myself immensely happy when Boston turned out the winner.

There was no cable television at the time, so whatever NBA games I watched on television were not live, and were not shown in chronological order. So after that first Celtics-Lakers game, I watched the conference playoffs. I got to know the Pistons and their troublemakers, the Rockets and the twin towers, and the other teams and players who made that generation awesome, such as Dominique Wilkins, Karl Malone, Spud Webb, and that amazing, AMAZING Utah Jazz point guard John Stockton.

The NBA shaped my love for all things Boston – and New England, by extension (which is why I decided to go to graduate school here). I started rooting for the Bruins, the Patriots (not anymore, though), the Red Sox. However, the nineties found the Celtics not winning as many games as before. Larry Bird retired, and the starting five that I have grown to associate with championship trophies and popped champagne have retired or left the team. Other teams, such as the Chicago Bulls stepped into the winning path paved by the Lakers and the Celtics. Younger upstarts dominated the game – Iverson, Shaquille, Jordan. Yet, although the Celtics may be down, they were not out. The team also had an upstart of its own who showed immense promise at the time – Reggie Lewis. I followed the games by reading the newspapers, and knew that, with enough time, Reggie could fill Larry’s shoes.

However, that promise was cut short when Reggie died of a heart ailment. I remember reading about it in the paper the day after he collapsed during a Celtics game. I was in my school uniform, getting ready to leave for class, when I picked up the newspaper on the driveway and turned straight to the Sports section. And there was a huge black and white photo of Reggie, on the Garden floor, with medics attending to him. I was extremely worried for him. And sure enough, three months later, he collapsed and died during a pickup game.

Reggie’s death signaled a downward spiral of sorts for the Celtics, for they never found their championship footing after that. I found myself rooting for other teams, simply because I admired certain players. They possessed the quiet passion but hard work ethic that Larry Bird also displayed. One player in particular stood out to me as having just that – Ray Allen, who was on the Milwaukee Bucks back then. Another player also displayed the same work ethic, although was a lot flashier than Bird was – Kevin Garnett, he of the very recognizable profile (next to Michael Jordan). And also during that time, Paul Pierce began to break through as the franchise player that could resurrect the Celtics legacy.

Paul Pierce was quite remarkable. He toiled for the last ten years on the team, never wavering, and giving his all in each game he played. He was a great defender, a reliable scorer, and received league accolades, including stints on the All-Star team. But I felt sorry for him since the team was not as great as he was, and coaches came and went. There were the occasional bursts of brilliance, reaching the playoffs, but never moving on to the Championship. But this season was different.

My two most beloved non-Celtics players found themselves on the team. The buzz for this so-called Big Three was so great it seemed to eclipse everything else. I almost worried that they were looking at the big picture too much to actually do the nitty gritty of winning games and playing good defense (besides, with Sam Cassell and PJ Brown also on the team, I definitely had cause to worry!). Thank God that was not the case.

For the first time in two decades, the Boston Celtics had the best record in the league. And they plowed through the Atlanta Hawks and the Lebron-charged Cleveland Cavaliers. Sure, the road to the Finals was difficult. Both series went to Game 7. But they learned from it and powered their way against the Pistons in six games. And now, the dream Finals match-up everyone has been waiting for. And I mean everybody. Even those who have been casual observers of the game, leisure watchers of the NBA. Even those who know little about basketball history certainly knew that a Lakers-Celtics series was special. A dream. And history was about to unfold again.

And I would get to cheer on my beloved Boston once again. I never really turned my back on that team. Even when they were down. Even when my sisters and friends teased me for it. Even when they were as maligned as the Knicks. Even when Danny Ainge was besotted with youth over experience. Even when Pitino did not fit in. Like Pierce, I stuck with them. When my graduate classmates took a trip to the storied Celtics office, I was the only one who found excitement in everything. Including Red Auerbach’s chair. I believed in the history of the Celtics, and in what the future holds. The franchise had changed since they last won a championship, but the heart remains strong as ever. And I have Paul Pierce to thank.

Yes, Garnett and Allen had made their mark on the team. But I will always look to Paul Pierce as the glue that held the team together and kept their focus on winning. The guy on SportsCenter was right when he said Pierce was often ignored and forgotten, but not this time. He won the game in Detroit, and all the fans – the real ones – knew it. To me, as great as the opportunity to win the Finals against the Lakers would be, the Conference Championship was just as good. Sure, a championship ring would be sweet, but I think, getting there was sweeter. For the first time in his ten years with the team, Paul Pierce finally has a shot a winning a title. And the Celtics fans finally have a reason to celebrate. Thank you, Paul.

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