Friday, January 27, 2006


Kings of (in)Convenience

A sorta surprising win in the aftermath of the polarizing Ricky Davis trade, tonight's game boiled down to a war of attrition between two teams adjusting rather poorly to major personnel changes. From that perspective the Ron Artest subplot proved largely uninteresting, and although WallyZ played significant second half minutes, the game was largely marked by the Celtics profiting from a Mike Bibby performance that redefined the phrase, "off night."

The first half was just absolutely unwatchable summer league type ball - sloppier than a 5 dollar fuck with a whore stuffed full of mayonnaise. I suppose we couldn't expect fluidity, but this was about as disjointed as it gets 42 games into the season. The third quarter saw the Celtics make a run behind the manly play of Perkins and the newly inserted WallyZ, but they squandered a 10 point lead in a fog of turnovers and relentlessly sloppy play. The fourth quarter found our heroes simply outlasting this heartless Kings squad, ultimately burying them with some timely scoring from Al Jefferson and Paul Pierce.

On the player side of things, we saw Tony Allen getting some minutes at the point, which was the rough equivalent of watching a retard trying to grasp the finer points of advanced particle physics. Pierce was closer to awful than good, Al Jefferson occasionally looked awake, and Delonte picked an unusual time to forget how to hit a jumpshot. WallyZ demonstrated his deathless outside shot and his compulsive need to high-five everyone wearing green. I noticed this in the Minni game, the guy acts like a frat-boy playing Quarters during every single stoppage of play. But this is an example of Wally's intangibles, and tonight there was an unbelievably hot MILF-type sitting in the front row, presumably the first in a long line of 30-something divorcees looking to get a smacked full on by a pillow full of temporary dream from Mr. Handsome Boston 2006. Fuck 'em while you're still rich and pretty, Wally.

The real scary part of tonight was watching how easily the Celtics reverted to being a crappy perimeter offense team, and how when they tried to move the ball or run, they generally fucked up and turned the ball over. Although the Kings were held to 74 points, this was not because of great Celtics defense, and the fact that they couldn't just blow them out of the water by scoring a shitload of points was worrisome. I am not an unreasonable man, I understand that this had something to do with the Recent Shakeup. Make no mistake, however, this team has the mark of "struggling till March" written all over it.

Player of the Game - Kendrick Perkins. Sure, Doc sat him late in the 3rd quarter and he never returned, but Perk still showed tonight how much he deserves the minutes that were bestowed upon him via the recent Blount-endectomy. 13/11, 5 blocks and a whole lot of heart. We are not going to be poorly disguised fanboys and turn this blog into the Get Kendrick Brigade (although if we did, we'd be much more polite to Celtics blogs with vastly superior writing and editorial content when doing NBA Carnivals), but again, Perk is one of the few highlights of this season and his mighty play deserves acknowledgement. That Coc sat him during the 4th quarter is just another classic, inexplicable Coc thing that at this point, I have given up trying to pretend I'm surprised by.

Hamcock - Ryan Gomes. Good lord, I know he's been sitting for 13 games, but Ryan stunk up the joint like a giant wet asshole in the land of lost toilet paper. He tried to do way to much on offense and seemed to demonstrate that his idea of shot selection has been tainted by spending far too much time with the now-departed Justin Reed. He'll be fine, I'm sure of it, but on a night of horrific b-ball that put the "urine" back in Brian Scalaburine, to be the worst among the worst was a truly dubious achievement.

Quote of the Night - "You've got to back door him once or twice," Tommy Heinsohn giving some bizarre advice on how to deal with Ron Artest. I was expecting to find the quote of the night during Ainge's second quarter talking-points pow-wow with Mike and Tommy, but he literally had nothing interesting to say. I find I comment on this a great deal, but it shocks me that this guy who used to make his living as a broadcaster comes across as such a sullen pissant when sitting in with the FSN boys. Tommy's wheezing attempts at pumping enthusiasm into the proceedings nonwithstanding, it always turns into a rather uncomfortable spectacle of dueling awkward silences. As for the above mentioned quote of the night, ehhh, who cares, it's nothing more than our petty habit on finding homo-erotic innuendo in the minutiae of the broadcast. Grow up CelticsDoom, no wonder everyone hates you.

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