Monday, November 13, 2006

 

Differential Diagnosis

We knew it was going to be ugly this season, but who’d have predicted that the Celtics would develop into a collection of medical mysteries so bizarre that even TV's “House” and his crack staff would be perplexed? CelticsDoom presents, as a public health service, the following diagnoses for our ailing squad in green.

Telfailure – “Bronchospasms,” and an obvious lack of size, motivation and intelligence. Danny Ainge thanks the latter day saints for Brandon Roy and his orthopedic boot, otherwise David Stern would likely intercede and turn the team over to this blog and/or a random number generator before the all-star break. In other words, “Worst Trade Ever.” An honorary hamcock to the first fan with a “Telfair sucks my Dickau” sign at the TDBKG.

Al Jefferson – first he loses his heart, then his brains (aka “footwork”), and now his appendix. The winner in all of this? Clifford Ray, who in the minds of Celtics fans has gone from being “off-season fix-it-all cipher” to the cipher who must be somehow to blame for our young big men’s ghastly regression. But with Al on the shelf for four weeks, at least he’ll just be blamed for Perk. Our advice, check Al's stomach for a twisted screw.

Theo Ratliff – mummification. Yes, poor Theo’s roughly 84 years in the NBA has left naught but zombie-fied remains, and these strike fear only in the hearts of ignorant townspeople and men in the paint under 5’ 9”. But don’t despair, in giving up Brandon Roy for Theo and Telfair, we can at least be comforted that watching those two flail away in a humiliating simulacrum of the game of basketball has saved $11 million for our billionaire owners. As the old saying goes, you don’t become rich by writing a lot of checks. Philanthropy is a choice!

Doc Rivers – alcoholism? Brain death? We’re not sure, but the self-destructive patterns might indicate some kind of grim alliance with devil liquor, or perhaps just an empty head. In less than three years Coc has gone from “lucky we got him” into ML Carr without the goofiness or tacit mission to fail. We’re picking January 8th as the over/under line for Doc suddenly “finding family” in the way that the great Stan Van Gundy did last year. The funny part will be watching the owners trying to lowball whatever poor slob gets picked to babysit this trainwreck for the rest of the season. Our OFFICIAL guess, a presser hitting the fax on December 20th including the words ”Tony Brown,” “new direction,” and “interim.”

Wally – knee, shin, bone-on-bone, etc. Danny’s track record with white men is about as bad as Madonna’s. Seriously, Sean Penn - “Shanghai Surprise,” Warren Beatty -“Dick Tracy..’ Guy Ritchie – “Swept Away” AND “Revolver.” Uggh. Danny has Dickau, Raef, Pittsnoggle, Scalaburine and now Wally. Sure, our compulsive ass-slapper makes an amusing “hyper team guy” who gushes about Paul Pierce in the post-game interview like a ten year discussing the new Harry Potter book, but at $10 million a year? When the fuck is Ainge going to get called out for constantly acquiring pricey damaged goods in the name of jettisoning pricey head-cases? We’ll be shocked if Wally World plays in over 70 games this year.

Tony Allen – mental retardation? As often as we have speculated about Inmate #42 playing for the Riker’s Island Cell-Block D squad, we admit, the way he’s played this year he might not make the team. It sucks because we were looking forward to one of those woefully misguided Hoopshype prison-league bios that try to put a happy face on hardened criminals getting their game on behind bars. But unlike Shits Rivers, even a prison league coach would have the sense to bench Tony Allen. “Fuck him up” indeed.

For those worried about their own health, take heart, at least the season is 1/16th over.



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