Monday, January 30, 2006
Timber, indeed
A ghastly experience, less a like watching a basketball game and more like witnessing an epic emotional flogging. The amount of baggage in play tonight rivaled a Kevin Federline Father's Day celebration, only in this case we also had to endure the sight of Mark Blount skipping down a basketball court. The Celtics looked like fools and soft-headed pissants, they made it seem as if in trading away four malcontents they lost their heart, their balls, their desire to win, and their basic understanding of team basketball. It was embarrassing as a fan, even one who expects the worst.
The ominous tone was set early as our heroes fell behind 10-nil. They managed to climb back and get it down to 30-28 at the end of the 1st quarter, but the old adage "you can score a lot of points but still play bad offense" has never been more true. For the entire game all we saw was shitty perimeter shooting and lots of disjointed one-on-one, most particularly from the Captain. The second unit was even worse, demonstrating that while it is painful to watch Pierce try and take over on offense while four other guys stand around, it is even worse when he's off the floor and now all you have is five guys standing around not knowing what to do.
The Timberwolves, on the other hand, were energized, battled for every rebound and loose ball, and got huge nights from all of the former Celtics. There were the to-be-expected one-upmanship battles, all of which were decisively won by the new Timberwolves. We had huge amounts of shit talk from world-class NBA talents Mark Blount and Justin Reed. We saw Marcus Banks annihilate Delonte on a play where he head-faked and left the Herp in the dust on route to completing a three point play. Only Ricky seemed to have an off night, but he should be credited for moving the ball and getting the Wolves offense working in the first quarter.
On the (Celtic) player side of things, there was nothing positive to report. Orien Greene was an utter disaster, Perk provided zero energy, Tony Allen made a good case for being traded for Flip Murray, and Pierce reverted to last year's "can't shoot, tries to take over too much" form. As for Wally, he gave us what we should expect - outside shooting and little else that is helpful. At one point the phrase "Blount grabs the offensive rebound over Scalabrine" threaded a Gregorian knot of confusion and dread in the hearts of Celtics fans everywhere.
With all of the subplots going on in this game (nicely annotated by the eminently readable Celticsblog), it is a real bad indicator of this team's heart that they had such a poor showing. To put it simply, we have a serious problem with a second unit that cannot score, two non-point guards playing point guard, and no real sense of urgency from anyone. Blow it up Danny, blow it all fucking sky high.
Player of the Game - Marcus Banks. We all know this idiot will come crashing back down to earth very quickly, but I admire that he had the balls to come into the game essentially as an afterthought and still proceed to destroy his former team. The move he put on Delonte had to be immensely satisfying for this dumped-on jerk-off after sitting in the golden boy's shadow for the past 1 1/2 seasons. Marcus has many flaws and I am glad he's gone, but for one night at least he seemed to establish a lease on NBA life for himself, and as long as it's not on the Celtics, that's all well and good for me.
Hamcock - Kendrick Perkins. One of my heroes is Keyser Soze, so I have no problem hurting the ones I love in the name of greater truth, and the truth is that tonight Perk sucked hemmoroidal ass. He was certainly not alone, Scalaburine, Orien Greene, Pierce and Tony Allen all were contenders, but Perk was particularly disappointing because his lack of energy, hustle and desire allowed dumbfuck Mark Blount to humiliate him. If ours was a team of samurai, there'd be lots of fingers and tongues being self-amputated this evening, but in Perk's case he'd have to remove an eye for being so cowardly. Maybe this will be the precursor to Pierce making good on his threat to kill him, but most likely he'll bounce back and continue being CelticsDoom teachers-pet.
Quote of the Night - "It's great to be wanted, it's great to be part of a team that's about to become championship level team, and I'm one of the pieces of it," Mark Blount. Early nominee for quote of the year, this gem from the Timberwolves center revealed that within his pee-brain there is a process at work fueled by helpless self-delusion and the mean stupidity of a lonely, wounded animal. Apparently he went on to say that he was glad to be the "focal point" of this very same trade that could only be characterized in that sense if there is an understanding that "unloading overpaid sluggish cancer" is what's meant by "focal point." Of course, he went out tonight and "proved" something to Ainge, et al about his efficacy as a ballplayer, but I guarantee 10 months from now there will be laughter in the East and many, many hurled epithets coming from the Timberwolves faithful. It ain't my money, but if earning it were the thing, then it wouldn't be his either.
The ominous tone was set early as our heroes fell behind 10-nil. They managed to climb back and get it down to 30-28 at the end of the 1st quarter, but the old adage "you can score a lot of points but still play bad offense" has never been more true. For the entire game all we saw was shitty perimeter shooting and lots of disjointed one-on-one, most particularly from the Captain. The second unit was even worse, demonstrating that while it is painful to watch Pierce try and take over on offense while four other guys stand around, it is even worse when he's off the floor and now all you have is five guys standing around not knowing what to do.
The Timberwolves, on the other hand, were energized, battled for every rebound and loose ball, and got huge nights from all of the former Celtics. There were the to-be-expected one-upmanship battles, all of which were decisively won by the new Timberwolves. We had huge amounts of shit talk from world-class NBA talents Mark Blount and Justin Reed. We saw Marcus Banks annihilate Delonte on a play where he head-faked and left the Herp in the dust on route to completing a three point play. Only Ricky seemed to have an off night, but he should be credited for moving the ball and getting the Wolves offense working in the first quarter.
On the (Celtic) player side of things, there was nothing positive to report. Orien Greene was an utter disaster, Perk provided zero energy, Tony Allen made a good case for being traded for Flip Murray, and Pierce reverted to last year's "can't shoot, tries to take over too much" form. As for Wally, he gave us what we should expect - outside shooting and little else that is helpful. At one point the phrase "Blount grabs the offensive rebound over Scalabrine" threaded a Gregorian knot of confusion and dread in the hearts of Celtics fans everywhere.
With all of the subplots going on in this game (nicely annotated by the eminently readable Celticsblog), it is a real bad indicator of this team's heart that they had such a poor showing. To put it simply, we have a serious problem with a second unit that cannot score, two non-point guards playing point guard, and no real sense of urgency from anyone. Blow it up Danny, blow it all fucking sky high.
Player of the Game - Marcus Banks. We all know this idiot will come crashing back down to earth very quickly, but I admire that he had the balls to come into the game essentially as an afterthought and still proceed to destroy his former team. The move he put on Delonte had to be immensely satisfying for this dumped-on jerk-off after sitting in the golden boy's shadow for the past 1 1/2 seasons. Marcus has many flaws and I am glad he's gone, but for one night at least he seemed to establish a lease on NBA life for himself, and as long as it's not on the Celtics, that's all well and good for me.
Hamcock - Kendrick Perkins. One of my heroes is Keyser Soze, so I have no problem hurting the ones I love in the name of greater truth, and the truth is that tonight Perk sucked hemmoroidal ass. He was certainly not alone, Scalaburine, Orien Greene, Pierce and Tony Allen all were contenders, but Perk was particularly disappointing because his lack of energy, hustle and desire allowed dumbfuck Mark Blount to humiliate him. If ours was a team of samurai, there'd be lots of fingers and tongues being self-amputated this evening, but in Perk's case he'd have to remove an eye for being so cowardly. Maybe this will be the precursor to Pierce making good on his threat to kill him, but most likely he'll bounce back and continue being CelticsDoom teachers-pet.
Quote of the Night - "It's great to be wanted, it's great to be part of a team that's about to become championship level team, and I'm one of the pieces of it," Mark Blount. Early nominee for quote of the year, this gem from the Timberwolves center revealed that within his pee-brain there is a process at work fueled by helpless self-delusion and the mean stupidity of a lonely, wounded animal. Apparently he went on to say that he was glad to be the "focal point" of this very same trade that could only be characterized in that sense if there is an understanding that "unloading overpaid sluggish cancer" is what's meant by "focal point." Of course, he went out tonight and "proved" something to Ainge, et al about his efficacy as a ballplayer, but I guarantee 10 months from now there will be laughter in the East and many, many hurled epithets coming from the Timberwolves faithful. It ain't my money, but if earning it were the thing, then it wouldn't be his either.
Ricky's Gone... part 2
Ricky Davis should have failed in Boston.
In his first 5 plus seasons, Buckets earned a reputation as a me-first, defense/teamwork/wins be damned modern NBA player. Athletically gifted, Ricky became the proverbial good player on a bad Cleveland team, who quickly jettisoned him before he could take an 18 year-old Lebron out for a night on the town. A reputed shot counter, Ricky came to Boston, whose dwindling fan base still had memories of exquisite passing and selflessness that led to team championships, not individual glory.
Now on his fourth team by the age of 24, Ricky’s arrival was met with some skepticism, especially from fan-boys who bemoaned the break up of the most unwatchable “good” basketball team in history. These jerkoffs were still smarting from the loss of a fat power forward who didn’t rebound, and now all around good guy Eric Williams (read: non-threatening) was traded for a sketchy dude with cornrows and an attitude. Sure, the Celtics have had their share of flashy dunkers (Dee Brown), along with some players who had some off-the-court trouble (Chief), but never before would a player who, lets face it, looked like a dirt bag, test the well-worn stereotype of a racist Boston.
Ricky had one major thing going for him as he donned Celtic green for the first time – the team was fucking BORING. The 2003 Celtics, a year prior to Ricky’s arrival, featured Pierce, Walker, Williams, Delk, Bremer, Shammond Williams, Battie, Walter, Vinny and Blount. You’ll find more athleticism in your average men-over-30 rec league, who are only playing basketball to get away from their wives for a couple hours a week. Actually, that team is a lot like the league I play in, one legitimately good player, one guy who thinks he’s a lot better than he is, a couple of big stiffs, point guards who can’t shoot, a spaz who everyone hates (me), and a drunk. Suffering Celtic fans looked forward to the ten minutes a game Kedrick Brown stumbled through, at least something exciting would happen.
I vaguely remember Ricky’s first home game, when he cheated in the passing lane at least twice to steal the ball, sprint down the floor, and dunk with a flair not seen in years. A fan favorite was born. Unlike the aforementioned Kedrick, Ricky was competent at all aspects of the game, and he was an above average mid-range shooter, something the Celtics had not had since Reggie’s passing. Add in that Ricky’s goofy persona compared favorably to Pierce’s increasing poutiness, and you have a future cult fav. In fact, just weeks after his arrival, Fleet Center fans forgave Ricky when a wide open breakaway look-at-me dunk bounced off the back of the rim. While their basketball instincts may have called for this show boater to be booed, a polite applause followed the initial shock. Was this a good thing? Probably not, but these fans paid good money to watch some up and down the court action, not some 3 and D bullshit.
The very best thing to happen to Ricky was to move to the bench. Although he played starter minutes, Ricky had this chip on his shoulder, underdog thing going. He also hit big shots in the clutch. Ricky publicly embraced his role, and was rewarded with internet appreciation and a fan club as goofy as he (which was tolerable until they joined the unreadable Celtsblog). Most of you are aware of our feelings on Ricky’s role, so I won’t bore you reiterating our correct stance. It should be noted, however, that many soured on Ricky the starter, even though he made reasonable money and played hard.
As Ricky embarks on his fifth team in seven years (wow), he will again be that underdog who has a lot to play for (in addition to “a lot of money”). We here at Doom wish him well. I think Ricky helped shift basketball sentiment in Boston; flashy is not automatically bad, afros are cool, and a player whose role is to just come of the bench and score is just as valuable as the “glue” guy who correctly sets screens and boxes out.
In his first 5 plus seasons, Buckets earned a reputation as a me-first, defense/teamwork/wins be damned modern NBA player. Athletically gifted, Ricky became the proverbial good player on a bad Cleveland team, who quickly jettisoned him before he could take an 18 year-old Lebron out for a night on the town. A reputed shot counter, Ricky came to Boston, whose dwindling fan base still had memories of exquisite passing and selflessness that led to team championships, not individual glory.
Now on his fourth team by the age of 24, Ricky’s arrival was met with some skepticism, especially from fan-boys who bemoaned the break up of the most unwatchable “good” basketball team in history. These jerkoffs were still smarting from the loss of a fat power forward who didn’t rebound, and now all around good guy Eric Williams (read: non-threatening) was traded for a sketchy dude with cornrows and an attitude. Sure, the Celtics have had their share of flashy dunkers (Dee Brown), along with some players who had some off-the-court trouble (Chief), but never before would a player who, lets face it, looked like a dirt bag, test the well-worn stereotype of a racist Boston.
Ricky had one major thing going for him as he donned Celtic green for the first time – the team was fucking BORING. The 2003 Celtics, a year prior to Ricky’s arrival, featured Pierce, Walker, Williams, Delk, Bremer, Shammond Williams, Battie, Walter, Vinny and Blount. You’ll find more athleticism in your average men-over-30 rec league, who are only playing basketball to get away from their wives for a couple hours a week. Actually, that team is a lot like the league I play in, one legitimately good player, one guy who thinks he’s a lot better than he is, a couple of big stiffs, point guards who can’t shoot, a spaz who everyone hates (me), and a drunk. Suffering Celtic fans looked forward to the ten minutes a game Kedrick Brown stumbled through, at least something exciting would happen.
I vaguely remember Ricky’s first home game, when he cheated in the passing lane at least twice to steal the ball, sprint down the floor, and dunk with a flair not seen in years. A fan favorite was born. Unlike the aforementioned Kedrick, Ricky was competent at all aspects of the game, and he was an above average mid-range shooter, something the Celtics had not had since Reggie’s passing. Add in that Ricky’s goofy persona compared favorably to Pierce’s increasing poutiness, and you have a future cult fav. In fact, just weeks after his arrival, Fleet Center fans forgave Ricky when a wide open breakaway look-at-me dunk bounced off the back of the rim. While their basketball instincts may have called for this show boater to be booed, a polite applause followed the initial shock. Was this a good thing? Probably not, but these fans paid good money to watch some up and down the court action, not some 3 and D bullshit.
The very best thing to happen to Ricky was to move to the bench. Although he played starter minutes, Ricky had this chip on his shoulder, underdog thing going. He also hit big shots in the clutch. Ricky publicly embraced his role, and was rewarded with internet appreciation and a fan club as goofy as he (which was tolerable until they joined the unreadable Celtsblog). Most of you are aware of our feelings on Ricky’s role, so I won’t bore you reiterating our correct stance. It should be noted, however, that many soured on Ricky the starter, even though he made reasonable money and played hard.
As Ricky embarks on his fifth team in seven years (wow), he will again be that underdog who has a lot to play for (in addition to “a lot of money”). We here at Doom wish him well. I think Ricky helped shift basketball sentiment in Boston; flashy is not automatically bad, afros are cool, and a player whose role is to just come of the bench and score is just as valuable as the “glue” guy who correctly sets screens and boxes out.
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.
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.
Ricky's Gone - part 1 of an ongoing series
Tough trade to fully evaluate quickly, but here are some immediate negative reactions:
1) The trade essentially boils down to us sacrificing the blue-chip “asset” from Ainge’s one triumphant trade to unload the worst contract he foisted on the franchise. Throw in the fact that we’re getting back a conditional number 1 to make up for the number 1 we foolishly squandered on the Toine rental, and the whole thing starts to sound like a feedback loop.
2) Wally Szczerbiak? The guy is making twice as much as Ricky and signed for an additional year. This brings us into 2008/2009 with $25 million (around half our current payroll) committed to Wally and the mortal remains of Raef LaFrentz. Wally’s contract makes him hugely difficult to trade (just ask Kevin McHale), and his skills just don’t warrant that kind of fiscal commitment.
3) Wally Szczerbiak? Again, what the fuck? He makes us slower, more dependent on outside shooting and worse on defense. The idea of him and Pierce on the floor at the same time trying to defend younger, quicker guards and small forwards is the highest of comedy.
4) Doc Rivers – the trade is essentially an acknowledgement of Doc’s inability to coach this team. Ainge is forcing Doc to play Perk and Jefferson, something that, call me crazy, really could have been accomplished by a coach with a brain and a pair of balls and shouldn’t have necessitated trading Ricky. Just fucking bench Blount and live with it, it’s that simple.
5) Doc Rivers - also, there is clearly some off-the-court shit going down with Ricky, my bet is it has to do with his hold on the younger players and his general disregard for Doc’s coaching. We heard about Ricky flipping out a couple times at practice, saw him half-ass it on defense - that was all probably smoke indicating a much larger fire. A fire that probably could have been prevented by a competent, well respected coach who doesn’t motherfuck his own players to the local media.
6) Direction – two schools of thought on this, but to me it screams “build around Pierce,” and that, as we have stated several times, is folly. This trade does NOTHING to address our two real needs – a real point guard and more toughness, both physical and mental. Wally's not soft, per se, but he's not going to be mistaken for Charles Oakley.
That all said, there are some positives to the trade. We’ll see lots of Inmate #42, which is a crapshoot that can at least provide some entertaining moments. Gerald Green, I would assume, should be called up again at some point and actually get into a game or two. Ryan Gomes is now officially the 12th man (as opposed to the 13th). Marcus Banks finally fulfills the destiny I anticipated for him in the first proto-Doom piece posted on another blog lo those many days ago. Mark Blount and his poisonous bullshit are now the objects of scorn for a faraway franchise foolish enough to take them on.
Still, this trade still feels all wrong… RickyDFan, don’t ever become WallyZfan, please.
(We’ll have more on all this later)
1) The trade essentially boils down to us sacrificing the blue-chip “asset” from Ainge’s one triumphant trade to unload the worst contract he foisted on the franchise. Throw in the fact that we’re getting back a conditional number 1 to make up for the number 1 we foolishly squandered on the Toine rental, and the whole thing starts to sound like a feedback loop.
2) Wally Szczerbiak? The guy is making twice as much as Ricky and signed for an additional year. This brings us into 2008/2009 with $25 million (around half our current payroll) committed to Wally and the mortal remains of Raef LaFrentz. Wally’s contract makes him hugely difficult to trade (just ask Kevin McHale), and his skills just don’t warrant that kind of fiscal commitment.
3) Wally Szczerbiak? Again, what the fuck? He makes us slower, more dependent on outside shooting and worse on defense. The idea of him and Pierce on the floor at the same time trying to defend younger, quicker guards and small forwards is the highest of comedy.
4) Doc Rivers – the trade is essentially an acknowledgement of Doc’s inability to coach this team. Ainge is forcing Doc to play Perk and Jefferson, something that, call me crazy, really could have been accomplished by a coach with a brain and a pair of balls and shouldn’t have necessitated trading Ricky. Just fucking bench Blount and live with it, it’s that simple.
5) Doc Rivers - also, there is clearly some off-the-court shit going down with Ricky, my bet is it has to do with his hold on the younger players and his general disregard for Doc’s coaching. We heard about Ricky flipping out a couple times at practice, saw him half-ass it on defense - that was all probably smoke indicating a much larger fire. A fire that probably could have been prevented by a competent, well respected coach who doesn’t motherfuck his own players to the local media.
6) Direction – two schools of thought on this, but to me it screams “build around Pierce,” and that, as we have stated several times, is folly. This trade does NOTHING to address our two real needs – a real point guard and more toughness, both physical and mental. Wally's not soft, per se, but he's not going to be mistaken for Charles Oakley.
That all said, there are some positives to the trade. We’ll see lots of Inmate #42, which is a crapshoot that can at least provide some entertaining moments. Gerald Green, I would assume, should be called up again at some point and actually get into a game or two. Ryan Gomes is now officially the 12th man (as opposed to the 13th). Marcus Banks finally fulfills the destiny I anticipated for him in the first proto-Doom piece posted on another blog lo those many days ago. Mark Blount and his poisonous bullshit are now the objects of scorn for a faraway franchise foolish enough to take them on.
Still, this trade still feels all wrong… RickyDFan, don’t ever become WallyZfan, please.
(We’ll have more on all this later)
Friday, January 20, 2006
The Land of Perk and Honey
A fine victory over an overrated Nets squad that is chock full of lamentable dipshits living off their reputations from the pre 9-11 NBA. Alright, maybe that's just Vince Carter, but seriously, I hate this team and hate to see the Celtics lose to them. So it was a good win and yet another example of how the blueprint was supposed to work, and how Doc's willful stubbornness has cost us so many wins this season.
The 1st half seemed an indicator that someone watched the tape of Wednesday's win over the Timberwolves and told Doc that his job might be saved if he spent less time inventing faux NBA terminology ("vocal big" is his latest triumph) and just made a few simple changes to his rotations. And what do you know, it worked. Granted, the Nets came out with their heads up their asses and during the first half caused the announcers to say "turn over" more times than those poor doomed cowboys did on a good weekend up on Brokeback Mountain, but the Celtics played efficient, enjoyable basketball, and got solid contributions from the nine guys who played.
Of course, the 3rd quarter saw the Celtics squander the lead with their own spate of turnovers and generally sloppy play, but it didn't have the usual meltdown quality that we've become so accustomed to. This was proved out in the 4th quarter as the bench played good defense, Perk had a mammoth offensive rebound and put back, Al Jefferson and Delonte connected on a great play, and we withstood a colossal Pierce error when he fouled Kidd on a three pointer. Things got a little dicey at that point, but the Celtics made a solid defensive stand to end the game and survived Vince Carter almost knocking in a 35 foot desperation shot.
On the player end of things, we saw a fully tolerable big man rotation that included Perk and LaFrentz starting, and Jefferson and Scalabrine coming off the bench. Of course, the Nets present very little in the way of genuine front-court presence, so there might be a bit of fool in whatever gold we chose to take out of the positive results. Nonetheless, it was a good development, especially because Mork Cunt was DNP'd. And just to show the kool-aiders that CelticsDoom is always willing to toss them a bone, in the spirit of last year's ill-advised attempt to codify the short-lived West/Banks platoon (I believe "Crash and Burn" was the winner), I submit that they can all use the cutesy "Al and Scal" couplet when rhapsodizing about the team's recent successes. Other duo nicknames we are willing to contribute to the living text of Celtic fandom are ones for Dickau and Tony Allen "Shrink and the Clink" and Gomes and Reed "Functional and Retarded."
So yeah, basically, the gist is that the right players played and the Celtics won. We'll see if they can stay on the right track tomorrow.
Player of the Game - Al Jefferson. Al has officially put together his only decent two-game stretch of the season, and tonight was the best example yet of the possibility of him becoming a McHale (circa 1984) type bench player. We all know his strengths, there's little point to me listing them here, but safe to say they were on display and he wound up with a fully legit 10/10. More than the numbers, the best thing has been watching him and Perk play together and bring some esprit de corps back to this moribund squad.
Hamcock - Delonte West. Delonte, you actually played very well, but 12/2/6 is no longer good enough for you, you lovable little scamp. Step it up man, you have official FSN promos the feature you with the thoroughly baffling tag line that reads, "Some leaders aren't born... they're drafted late in the first round." Who the fuck wrote that one? A paint-sniffing intern with connections to the Grousbeck family? A cynical chimp that happens to know sign language? Also, how can we all fawn over you and pretend that you are a legitimate NBA point guard when every game is marked by you suffering some kind of strange injury? Tonight it was a poke to the right eye, the other day it was a head on collision with a camera man, prior to that it was being stuck with Paul Pierce at a screening of "Glory Road." Good God Herp, don't buy a house on a flood plain.
Quote of the Night - "I want some more bread... you're eating all my bread!" Tommy Heinsohn. Classic semi-funny Tommy moment in the pre-game show as he attempted to communicate the internecine quality of Perk "calling out" Paul in the Timberwolves game, using a family metaphor eerily reminiscent of the CelticsDoom description of the FSN broadcast team in last game's recap. That sound you're hearing is a feedback loop mon freres. In these grim times we are all feeding upon each other like wild weasels in a pit full of weasel-shaped snack treats. Some call it a dearth of original ideas. I choose to call it... synergy.
The 1st half seemed an indicator that someone watched the tape of Wednesday's win over the Timberwolves and told Doc that his job might be saved if he spent less time inventing faux NBA terminology ("vocal big" is his latest triumph) and just made a few simple changes to his rotations. And what do you know, it worked. Granted, the Nets came out with their heads up their asses and during the first half caused the announcers to say "turn over" more times than those poor doomed cowboys did on a good weekend up on Brokeback Mountain, but the Celtics played efficient, enjoyable basketball, and got solid contributions from the nine guys who played.
Of course, the 3rd quarter saw the Celtics squander the lead with their own spate of turnovers and generally sloppy play, but it didn't have the usual meltdown quality that we've become so accustomed to. This was proved out in the 4th quarter as the bench played good defense, Perk had a mammoth offensive rebound and put back, Al Jefferson and Delonte connected on a great play, and we withstood a colossal Pierce error when he fouled Kidd on a three pointer. Things got a little dicey at that point, but the Celtics made a solid defensive stand to end the game and survived Vince Carter almost knocking in a 35 foot desperation shot.
On the player end of things, we saw a fully tolerable big man rotation that included Perk and LaFrentz starting, and Jefferson and Scalabrine coming off the bench. Of course, the Nets present very little in the way of genuine front-court presence, so there might be a bit of fool in whatever gold we chose to take out of the positive results. Nonetheless, it was a good development, especially because Mork Cunt was DNP'd. And just to show the kool-aiders that CelticsDoom is always willing to toss them a bone, in the spirit of last year's ill-advised attempt to codify the short-lived West/Banks platoon (I believe "Crash and Burn" was the winner), I submit that they can all use the cutesy "Al and Scal" couplet when rhapsodizing about the team's recent successes. Other duo nicknames we are willing to contribute to the living text of Celtic fandom are ones for Dickau and Tony Allen "Shrink and the Clink" and Gomes and Reed "Functional and Retarded."
So yeah, basically, the gist is that the right players played and the Celtics won. We'll see if they can stay on the right track tomorrow.
Player of the Game - Al Jefferson. Al has officially put together his only decent two-game stretch of the season, and tonight was the best example yet of the possibility of him becoming a McHale (circa 1984) type bench player. We all know his strengths, there's little point to me listing them here, but safe to say they were on display and he wound up with a fully legit 10/10. More than the numbers, the best thing has been watching him and Perk play together and bring some esprit de corps back to this moribund squad.
Hamcock - Delonte West. Delonte, you actually played very well, but 12/2/6 is no longer good enough for you, you lovable little scamp. Step it up man, you have official FSN promos the feature you with the thoroughly baffling tag line that reads, "Some leaders aren't born... they're drafted late in the first round." Who the fuck wrote that one? A paint-sniffing intern with connections to the Grousbeck family? A cynical chimp that happens to know sign language? Also, how can we all fawn over you and pretend that you are a legitimate NBA point guard when every game is marked by you suffering some kind of strange injury? Tonight it was a poke to the right eye, the other day it was a head on collision with a camera man, prior to that it was being stuck with Paul Pierce at a screening of "Glory Road." Good God Herp, don't buy a house on a flood plain.
Quote of the Night - "I want some more bread... you're eating all my bread!" Tommy Heinsohn. Classic semi-funny Tommy moment in the pre-game show as he attempted to communicate the internecine quality of Perk "calling out" Paul in the Timberwolves game, using a family metaphor eerily reminiscent of the CelticsDoom description of the FSN broadcast team in last game's recap. That sound you're hearing is a feedback loop mon freres. In these grim times we are all feeding upon each other like wild weasels in a pit full of weasel-shaped snack treats. Some call it a dearth of original ideas. I choose to call it... synergy.
My Hero Perk
Doom fav Kendrick Perkins is doing everything he can to wrap up our player of the year in the span of two news cycles. His development on the court has been impressive, but his manly tongue lashing of team bitch/captain gave me a hard-on. As Pierce slept through another lackluster first half, Perk finally stepped up for a team held hostage by their diva captain.
Simply said, Perk bitchslapped Pierce in front of everyone. Something tells me not a man in that locker room, player, coach, towel boy, had PP’s back.
Perk is the perfect man to take on Pierce. Not blessed with the raw talent of a Paul Pierce, and having not gone to college to learn from the likes of Roy Williams ala Pierce, Perk has worked his ass off the last three years. Overweight and overmatched, Perk turned himself into a rebounding/defensive player. Ignored his rookie season, Perk tried to mentor the rookies during his sophomore campaign. When the C’s lacked heart and toughness, Perk clumsily attempted to adopt a thuggish style – resulting in hard fouls and T’s. Belittled in the press as part of a group (the youngsters) by the team captain, and given seemingly random and mindless minutes to work on his craft during games, Perk just kept working. He is a now a fan favorite.
The most impressive part of Perk’s calling-out of Pierce was his play after the incident. He talked shit and backed it up, a quality lacking in the front-running AW/PP Celtics of the past. He made the most important play of the game against arguably the best player in the game.
Some will say that Perk’s 19 rebound effort vs. the 76ers was his NBA coming out party, but I will remember this Minnesota game as the night Kendrick Perkins defined himself as a leader on and off the court, for a team desperately lacking leadership. My only regret is that Pierce didn’t take a swing at him when he threatened to kill him.
Simply said, Perk bitchslapped Pierce in front of everyone. Something tells me not a man in that locker room, player, coach, towel boy, had PP’s back.
Perk is the perfect man to take on Pierce. Not blessed with the raw talent of a Paul Pierce, and having not gone to college to learn from the likes of Roy Williams ala Pierce, Perk has worked his ass off the last three years. Overweight and overmatched, Perk turned himself into a rebounding/defensive player. Ignored his rookie season, Perk tried to mentor the rookies during his sophomore campaign. When the C’s lacked heart and toughness, Perk clumsily attempted to adopt a thuggish style – resulting in hard fouls and T’s. Belittled in the press as part of a group (the youngsters) by the team captain, and given seemingly random and mindless minutes to work on his craft during games, Perk just kept working. He is a now a fan favorite.
The most impressive part of Perk’s calling-out of Pierce was his play after the incident. He talked shit and backed it up, a quality lacking in the front-running AW/PP Celtics of the past. He made the most important play of the game against arguably the best player in the game.
Some will say that Perk’s 19 rebound effort vs. the 76ers was his NBA coming out party, but I will remember this Minnesota game as the night Kendrick Perkins defined himself as a leader on and off the court, for a team desperately lacking leadership. My only regret is that Pierce didn’t take a swing at him when he threatened to kill him.
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Two Fairly Large Tickets
A gutsy, inspiring win over a quality opponent in what was probably the best game of the season. For many of us who have wasted hours of our lives watching this cruddy team fuck around and produce naught but a big pile of unproductive losses, it was a golden opportunity to shout "about goddamn fucking time" and allow ourselves to get excited about things. About goddamn fucking time we saw Perk and Al play regular minutes, about goddamn fucking time Blount sat his worthless ass, about goddamn fucking time the Celtics stopped turning into zombies and actually played like men in the fourth quarter.
Although it ended on a note of almost epic triumph, the game was actually pretty weird. Similar to the theory of special relativity which posits that any vantage point in spacetime is equally valid to any other, (and thus, illogical observations are not contradictory) two observers in relative motion would have experienced this game as the Celtics playing at their very worst and very best. Things were ugly to start, they melted down completely at the end of the first quarter and trailed by nine at the half. During this stretch Doc played every player he had and this developed into the usual discombobulated disaster we've come to expect.
In the second half, however, Pierce came alive in a big way and the Celtics pressed the "I give a fuck" button on defense. The main reason for the win, however, was that in what was either a case of the paradigm finally shifting or merely a temporary case of lucidity, Doc Rivers actually put Al and Perk on the floor together and left them the game. This momentous event first got underway around minute 8 of the 2nd quarter, and for the record, after months of hearing Doc claim that he couldn't play these two together because they "clog the lanes" for Ricky and Pierce, the first basket scored in the new Al/Perk-era was made by Ricky driving to the basket. Way to go Doc.
As for the others, Delonte played well, Pierce nailed some ice-cold 4th quarter shit that almost made up for him single handedly losing the 76ers game, and Scalabrine played the kind of physical clumsy honky defense on KG that was required to shut the Big Ticket down in the 4th. That's right, you can read it again, the last part is not satire.
So tonight might have been a great step forward or just a blip on the radar, but either way, we finally saw that the blueprint CAN work if it's allowed to be put into practice. Al and Perk need and deserve time on the court, and every minute we waste playing malcontent fucks and washed up veterans is a pointless kick in the balls for our future. I don't know about you, but I'm sick of getting kicked in the balls. Let's hope Doc is too.
Player of the Game - Kendrick Perkins. 17/6, and make no mistake, we would not have won without him. From his momentum turning offensive rebound (against Garnett, no less) and put back in the 4th, to the several big moves around the basket that resulted in 8-11 shooting, to thoroughly befuddling Greg Dickerson with the comment "we all put our shorts on the same way" in the post-game interview, Kendrick did it all. Yes, he's my favorite, but fuck it, he deserves it tonight.
Hamcock - Mark Blount. It seems abundantly clear that this useless fuckhead is on the way out, and tonight most likely amounted to the final nail in the coffin. For some strange reason Doc actually put him on the court in the 2nd quarter, and he was greeted with the sort of lusty booing usually reserved for Cryin' Brian Scalaburine. With any luck, some disgusted group of Timberwolves fans will soon be emulating their call.
Quote of the Night - "I like him too but he's been... dormant," Bob Cousy on the topic of Al Jefferson, punctuated by Tommy yelling "no!" between each syllable of the sentence. I'm not much in the way of a family man, but if we look at the FSN team as a gathering of relatives at Thanksgiving, surely Tommy is the drunken, control-freak patriarch, ie: the malignant ogre who rules the broadcast through sheer belligerence and a complete lack of shame. Couse, on the other hand, is like some kind of dead-eyed grandfather who sits around waiting to die, shattering the illusions of others with the careless power of truth. "Why didn't little Johnny make the baseball team?" Because he's a sissy. "Why is Sally single again this year?" Because she's ugly and no man will have her. "Why is that handsome young physician crying while watching the Celtics game?" Because he is a masochist and he writes about this crappy team for a much-maligned blog.
Note to self - possible career change, look into being a Fox Fan-Caster.
Although it ended on a note of almost epic triumph, the game was actually pretty weird. Similar to the theory of special relativity which posits that any vantage point in spacetime is equally valid to any other, (and thus, illogical observations are not contradictory) two observers in relative motion would have experienced this game as the Celtics playing at their very worst and very best. Things were ugly to start, they melted down completely at the end of the first quarter and trailed by nine at the half. During this stretch Doc played every player he had and this developed into the usual discombobulated disaster we've come to expect.
In the second half, however, Pierce came alive in a big way and the Celtics pressed the "I give a fuck" button on defense. The main reason for the win, however, was that in what was either a case of the paradigm finally shifting or merely a temporary case of lucidity, Doc Rivers actually put Al and Perk on the floor together and left them the game. This momentous event first got underway around minute 8 of the 2nd quarter, and for the record, after months of hearing Doc claim that he couldn't play these two together because they "clog the lanes" for Ricky and Pierce, the first basket scored in the new Al/Perk-era was made by Ricky driving to the basket. Way to go Doc.
As for the others, Delonte played well, Pierce nailed some ice-cold 4th quarter shit that almost made up for him single handedly losing the 76ers game, and Scalabrine played the kind of physical clumsy honky defense on KG that was required to shut the Big Ticket down in the 4th. That's right, you can read it again, the last part is not satire.
So tonight might have been a great step forward or just a blip on the radar, but either way, we finally saw that the blueprint CAN work if it's allowed to be put into practice. Al and Perk need and deserve time on the court, and every minute we waste playing malcontent fucks and washed up veterans is a pointless kick in the balls for our future. I don't know about you, but I'm sick of getting kicked in the balls. Let's hope Doc is too.
Player of the Game - Kendrick Perkins. 17/6, and make no mistake, we would not have won without him. From his momentum turning offensive rebound (against Garnett, no less) and put back in the 4th, to the several big moves around the basket that resulted in 8-11 shooting, to thoroughly befuddling Greg Dickerson with the comment "we all put our shorts on the same way" in the post-game interview, Kendrick did it all. Yes, he's my favorite, but fuck it, he deserves it tonight.
Hamcock - Mark Blount. It seems abundantly clear that this useless fuckhead is on the way out, and tonight most likely amounted to the final nail in the coffin. For some strange reason Doc actually put him on the court in the 2nd quarter, and he was greeted with the sort of lusty booing usually reserved for Cryin' Brian Scalaburine. With any luck, some disgusted group of Timberwolves fans will soon be emulating their call.
Quote of the Night - "I like him too but he's been... dormant," Bob Cousy on the topic of Al Jefferson, punctuated by Tommy yelling "no!" between each syllable of the sentence. I'm not much in the way of a family man, but if we look at the FSN team as a gathering of relatives at Thanksgiving, surely Tommy is the drunken, control-freak patriarch, ie: the malignant ogre who rules the broadcast through sheer belligerence and a complete lack of shame. Couse, on the other hand, is like some kind of dead-eyed grandfather who sits around waiting to die, shattering the illusions of others with the careless power of truth. "Why didn't little Johnny make the baseball team?" Because he's a sissy. "Why is Sally single again this year?" Because she's ugly and no man will have her. "Why is that handsome young physician crying while watching the Celtics game?" Because he is a masochist and he writes about this crappy team for a much-maligned blog.
Note to self - possible career change, look into being a Fox Fan-Caster.
Thursday, January 12, 2006
Blow This Bitch Up
What would you do, fire Doc or trade Pierce?
I’ve seen variations of this question in all the familiar places, most recently in another mostly unreadable Sports Guy column. It’s as if the options, or the logic behind each option, were mutually exclusive. What the fuck? We can either trade Pierce for some young talent and expiring, or we can keep Pierce and fire the coach. Don’t even try to do both.
Do both, Danny. Talk about having your pussy and eating it too.
When we trade Pierce in a few weeks, inevitably for a perceived young stud packaged with Yogi Stewart and maybe a pick, the message is clear. The Celtics are doing right by finally committing to a rebuilding process. Not this fake shit about adding pieces to a star or two; a real process of building a contender 4 or 5 years down the road. In doing so, you commit the team to the development of young talent. As far as I can tell, there are two ways a young player learns how to get better, through experience or a good teacher. Doc is resistant to playing the youngsters, and he certainly is not a teacher.
Not only do I see both options working together, I could see each failing if the other is not completed. Could a new coach improve this team as currently constituted, sure. But to what end? Any change not involving the blow-up of this team will result in the same perpetual mediocrity. Could Doc coach a young team without the threat of his diva captain undermining him? I suppose, but Doc has already lost the team. I thought this guy was a motivator?
The next time you put a little blog/forum poll asking the faithful whether they would rather fire Doc, trade Pierce, or fire Danny – make sure you put a “A and B” option for me.
I’ve seen variations of this question in all the familiar places, most recently in another mostly unreadable Sports Guy column. It’s as if the options, or the logic behind each option, were mutually exclusive. What the fuck? We can either trade Pierce for some young talent and expiring, or we can keep Pierce and fire the coach. Don’t even try to do both.
Do both, Danny. Talk about having your pussy and eating it too.
When we trade Pierce in a few weeks, inevitably for a perceived young stud packaged with Yogi Stewart and maybe a pick, the message is clear. The Celtics are doing right by finally committing to a rebuilding process. Not this fake shit about adding pieces to a star or two; a real process of building a contender 4 or 5 years down the road. In doing so, you commit the team to the development of young talent. As far as I can tell, there are two ways a young player learns how to get better, through experience or a good teacher. Doc is resistant to playing the youngsters, and he certainly is not a teacher.
Not only do I see both options working together, I could see each failing if the other is not completed. Could a new coach improve this team as currently constituted, sure. But to what end? Any change not involving the blow-up of this team will result in the same perpetual mediocrity. Could Doc coach a young team without the threat of his diva captain undermining him? I suppose, but Doc has already lost the team. I thought this guy was a motivator?
The next time you put a little blog/forum poll asking the faithful whether they would rather fire Doc, trade Pierce, or fire Danny – make sure you put a “A and B” option for me.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
Our 100th posting
Tonight's game was so much more than a game, thus it will get no recap. You see, instead of a mere basketball contest between two sub-.500 teams, what we saw tonight was a procession of improbable holy moments gifted by higher powers to bring succor to Danny Ainge and Fox Sports New England. Yes, tonight we witnessed a huge step towards absolutely nowhere that will establish FSN's editorial slant for at least the next ten games. Are you ready for this? Brian Scalabrine is a "solid" player! That's right, solid! You thought he sucked and was an embarrassment to the team and Danny Ainge deserves heaps of scorn for having ever signed him? Well fuck you Charlie, you're wrong! This big white fuck had an offensive rebound! He put the ball back! He played some defense! He's a likely Nobel laureate!
Errrrrrrrr. Too much. What they mean is that Brian Scalabrine ("Scals" remember, not "Veal," our new favorite Celtic of all time does not like being called "Veal") is exactly like a bottle of vintage wine found in the locked basement of your dead uncle's house... no, too weird... it's that he's like a modern day Jesus only without the spiritual backstory... no, might be overstating it... it's more like he's 1986 era Bill Walton but without the talent (bad) or stoned mumbling and undercurrent of brain damage (good!). Hmmm. Fuck it, whatever it is, Tommy loves it and you should too, and if you don't, you're an asshole! Also, you probably are retarded and think the Celtics get pretty much what they deserve from the referees and that Paul Pierce won't be a hall of famer.
So in honor of this occasion, and the Celtics managing to not lose 3 games to the Hawks, I have composed the following oration:
"To Brian Scalabrine, the slavishly praised hero of this evening, you have had your last tender moments in the embrace of the jealous lover that is DNP-CD, and now you have been set free to trip all over yourself, shoot 37% and turn the ball over in key spots for the rest of the season, probably between 8 and 28 minutes a game. Yes, Ryan Gomes, that means you will continue wearing fine suits and dress shirts to the arena and watch from courtside as this honkey stiff soaks up all the burn that is rightly yours (liked tonight's black suit/muted purple shirt combo by the way, very Chestnutt-ian). Justin "Can't" Reed? You better just start taking those evening French classes at the learning annex because you'll be playing your brand of unwatchable ball across the pond in 07, while Brian Scalabrine contributes to 'great practices' here in the states. Al Jefferson? Dude, you've got to go for like 10 points 8 rebounds in the first 3 minutes of play, otherwise there's a big dumb honkey ready to share the floor with Mark Blount and participate in the important process of 'doing the little things.' Speaking of 'doing the little things,' has anyone here ever fucked a midget? Yes? No? Sorry, it's not important. Onward. Perk, well, Perk, there aren't enough tea leaves in China to predict what's going to happen to you on any given night, so, uhhh, stay ready. Delonte, you used to be the default 'good story' for the broadcast to lean on during ugly times, but your ass is on notice, there's a new overachiever in town. His name, in case you didn't catch it..."
Errrrrrrrr. Too much. What they mean is that Brian Scalabrine ("Scals" remember, not "Veal," our new favorite Celtic of all time does not like being called "Veal") is exactly like a bottle of vintage wine found in the locked basement of your dead uncle's house... no, too weird... it's that he's like a modern day Jesus only without the spiritual backstory... no, might be overstating it... it's more like he's 1986 era Bill Walton but without the talent (bad) or stoned mumbling and undercurrent of brain damage (good!). Hmmm. Fuck it, whatever it is, Tommy loves it and you should too, and if you don't, you're an asshole! Also, you probably are retarded and think the Celtics get pretty much what they deserve from the referees and that Paul Pierce won't be a hall of famer.
So in honor of this occasion, and the Celtics managing to not lose 3 games to the Hawks, I have composed the following oration:
"To Brian Scalabrine, the slavishly praised hero of this evening, you have had your last tender moments in the embrace of the jealous lover that is DNP-CD, and now you have been set free to trip all over yourself, shoot 37% and turn the ball over in key spots for the rest of the season, probably between 8 and 28 minutes a game. Yes, Ryan Gomes, that means you will continue wearing fine suits and dress shirts to the arena and watch from courtside as this honkey stiff soaks up all the burn that is rightly yours (liked tonight's black suit/muted purple shirt combo by the way, very Chestnutt-ian). Justin "Can't" Reed? You better just start taking those evening French classes at the learning annex because you'll be playing your brand of unwatchable ball across the pond in 07, while Brian Scalabrine contributes to 'great practices' here in the states. Al Jefferson? Dude, you've got to go for like 10 points 8 rebounds in the first 3 minutes of play, otherwise there's a big dumb honkey ready to share the floor with Mark Blount and participate in the important process of 'doing the little things.' Speaking of 'doing the little things,' has anyone here ever fucked a midget? Yes? No? Sorry, it's not important. Onward. Perk, well, Perk, there aren't enough tea leaves in China to predict what's going to happen to you on any given night, so, uhhh, stay ready. Delonte, you used to be the default 'good story' for the broadcast to lean on during ugly times, but your ass is on notice, there's a new overachiever in town. His name, in case you didn't catch it..."
It's Paul over now
Others have already commented on this, but hearing Paul Pierce demonstrate his “team leadership” by telling the media in essence that he wouldn’t mind being traded, shortly after his team suffered a close loss against the Mavericks, has got to be the lowest of the lowlights we’ve witnessed during this grisly season. This one moment embodied everything we’ve come to anticipate from Pierce, everything we kicked under the rug this season because he’d been playing so well - namely, the misplaced arrogance, the self-delusion, the front-running, the perpetually unwarranted subtext of his career that reads something like “I am such an amazing player that simply by virtue of my presumed greatness I deserve to compete for NBA titles, even though I can’t lead my own team to a .500 record.”
Well fuck him, and fuck this whole idea that Paul Pierce is such a rarified talent and peerless specimen of humanity that we should acquiesce to any of the restrictions he is certain to attempt to place on a trade. He should be shipped out for the best possible deal, preferably one that unloads noxious ding-a-ling Mark Blount and brings back lottery picks. The team needs to be scrapped and rebuilt, not tweaked and re-tooled.
Of course, in fairness to Pierce, we (Jerky and I) have advocated trading him regardless of his mood or behavior, so last night’s comments only serve to highlight the urgency of making the move. What we initially all perceived as a good fortune when Pierce started playing the best ball of his career (and thus, upping his trade value) this season, has quickly devolved into the frustration of knowing that he nixed a trade in the offseason that would have netted us Chris Paul. It is highly unlikely we can move him now for a player of Chris Paul’s impact, but that does not speak to the value we can get for Pierce, inasmuch as it speaks to the value the Hornets could get for Chris Paul. This is a crucial bit of truth that is missed by those who vastly overestimate Pierce’s value in the league.
If Pierce plays fuckhead and nixes trades to anyone but a contender, we are truly screwed. THAT will beget the unsatisfying Nene/Andre Miller trade or something of its ilk. However, if we can trade him to Chicago (where apparently he has already grumbled about not wanting to go) and get back either Deng or Heinrich and the Knicks pick, that would be the kind of bold move to rebuild the franchise that so many of us thought of as the promise of the Ainge-era. Adding Heinrich and a possible top-3 lottery pick to this team while eliminating Pierce’s natural status as an obstacle to player development (and thus, bringing Gerald Green back into the fold to see if he can actually play) would be the kind of forward motion that I believe the fan-base (meaning, the paying ones, not the message-boarders) could embrace. It would mean having a lineup with decent-to-promising young players at every position, another dip into the lottery in 07, and an improved salary structure by time we need to resign all these young guys.
You do not get better without taking chances, and anyone who respects the history of our franchise understands that Red Auerbach built a legacy of championship success by making bold moves, not by spinning his wheels and sinking further and further into perpetual mediocrity. I, for one, would rather sit through losses as part of a long-term effort to win a championship, not as part of some annual effort to embrace the latest crop of crap foisted upon us as “the future is (kind-of) now.” The answer is so goddamn fucking obvious, even though the outcome is unclear.
Trade Pierce.
(Thanks to WOTR for covering much of this ground already on the Yahoo boards)
Well fuck him, and fuck this whole idea that Paul Pierce is such a rarified talent and peerless specimen of humanity that we should acquiesce to any of the restrictions he is certain to attempt to place on a trade. He should be shipped out for the best possible deal, preferably one that unloads noxious ding-a-ling Mark Blount and brings back lottery picks. The team needs to be scrapped and rebuilt, not tweaked and re-tooled.
Of course, in fairness to Pierce, we (Jerky and I) have advocated trading him regardless of his mood or behavior, so last night’s comments only serve to highlight the urgency of making the move. What we initially all perceived as a good fortune when Pierce started playing the best ball of his career (and thus, upping his trade value) this season, has quickly devolved into the frustration of knowing that he nixed a trade in the offseason that would have netted us Chris Paul. It is highly unlikely we can move him now for a player of Chris Paul’s impact, but that does not speak to the value we can get for Pierce, inasmuch as it speaks to the value the Hornets could get for Chris Paul. This is a crucial bit of truth that is missed by those who vastly overestimate Pierce’s value in the league.
If Pierce plays fuckhead and nixes trades to anyone but a contender, we are truly screwed. THAT will beget the unsatisfying Nene/Andre Miller trade or something of its ilk. However, if we can trade him to Chicago (where apparently he has already grumbled about not wanting to go) and get back either Deng or Heinrich and the Knicks pick, that would be the kind of bold move to rebuild the franchise that so many of us thought of as the promise of the Ainge-era. Adding Heinrich and a possible top-3 lottery pick to this team while eliminating Pierce’s natural status as an obstacle to player development (and thus, bringing Gerald Green back into the fold to see if he can actually play) would be the kind of forward motion that I believe the fan-base (meaning, the paying ones, not the message-boarders) could embrace. It would mean having a lineup with decent-to-promising young players at every position, another dip into the lottery in 07, and an improved salary structure by time we need to resign all these young guys.
You do not get better without taking chances, and anyone who respects the history of our franchise understands that Red Auerbach built a legacy of championship success by making bold moves, not by spinning his wheels and sinking further and further into perpetual mediocrity. I, for one, would rather sit through losses as part of a long-term effort to win a championship, not as part of some annual effort to embrace the latest crop of crap foisted upon us as “the future is (kind-of) now.” The answer is so goddamn fucking obvious, even though the outcome is unclear.
Trade Pierce.
(Thanks to WOTR for covering much of this ground already on the Yahoo boards)
Friday, January 06, 2006
we were sliding into home, our pants began to foam...
A ghastly, unforgivable loss. Playing at home against a reeling Hawks team that had lost four in a row, the Celtics dicked around with a small lead for most of the game before completely falling to pieces in the final minutes. If this isn't a clarion call to blow the whole goddamn enterprise up and start over, I'm not sure what could make it more clear. Perhaps the not-entirely-unlikely scenario of literally losing every game for the rest of the season is what's needed to initiate personnel change.
In fairness to the players, however, we could easily hang much of the blame around Doc's all-too-worthy neck. Suffering from a bad case of the liquid poops, Doc "Shits" Rivers indulged his "going small" obsession, which went from a semi-successful cutesy ploy in the 2nd quarter to completely tanking the cause in the 3rd and 4th. Turns out, I don't know if you knew this, but when you put 4 guards on the floor, it becomes much tougher to rebound effectively. Who'd a thunk it?
On the player side of things, the big story was the return of Inmate #42, Tony Allen. TA was his usual spastic self, proving at turns to be both hugely effective and wildly out of control. Shits (Doc) loves Tony, however, so unlike every other young player who is not allowed to play through their mistakes, Tony played the entire 2nd quarter and 30 minutes overall. Strangely enough, the player most affected by this minutes switcheroo? Mark Blount. Hmmm. Of course, Shits also DNP'd Perk until the last 40 seconds, which might have been the stupidest and worst thing he's done all season. Why the fuck must Perk be jerked around? He's effective, works hard, and by rebounding, fills an actual gaping need of this team. He should get ten minutes a game just on principle. Tonight, he could very well have won us the game if he'd been in there rebounding as the momentum slipped away.
Additional note - Gerald Green got sent down to the minors, but apparently Daddy Ainge will be accompanying him for a few games for some completely unfathomable reason. Shouldn't Danny be on the horn looking to unload the $30 million or so in contractual dead weight we're carrying every year? Isn't this a mission better suited for like, Wyc's wife or some otherwise unemployed Celtics legend we have hanging around? What about Willie Maye? Or Doc? A huge prize to the first Celtics fan who brings a "Send Shits Rivers to the NBDL" sign to the game.
Player of the Game - Orien Greene. It is not in my nature to award Celtics in losing causes, but Orien finally played a regular season game that reflected the promise he showed in the pre-season. Perhaps owing to a putative pledge to quit jerking off on nights before games, perhaps not, but he was alert, active and hugely effective, basically the opposite of all his other appearances this year. THIS was the player Ainge prayed he had lucked into when he told Marcus to go fuck himself next season.
Hamcock - Mark Blount. This big dope turned the ball over 3 times in the first five minutes, got whacked in the face by Puchuclia's head, and ended up sitting out most of the last half after getting replaced by a shooting guard who hadn't played all season. His final numbers were a classic Hamcock - 4 points, 0 rebounds, 5 turnovers.
Quote of the Night - "Joe Johnson is prepared to go down on the box," Tom Heinsohn. I thought when you pulled in 13 million a year this was no longer required, but I guess Joe has a demanding lady-friend. Ha ha ha. What else can we find in this? Joe Johnson - slang for what happens when you stick your cock in a cup of coffee? An Australian insult based on the notion of having sex with a kangaroo? Senator Lieberman's nickname for his dick? I dunno. You tell me.
In fairness to the players, however, we could easily hang much of the blame around Doc's all-too-worthy neck. Suffering from a bad case of the liquid poops, Doc "Shits" Rivers indulged his "going small" obsession, which went from a semi-successful cutesy ploy in the 2nd quarter to completely tanking the cause in the 3rd and 4th. Turns out, I don't know if you knew this, but when you put 4 guards on the floor, it becomes much tougher to rebound effectively. Who'd a thunk it?
On the player side of things, the big story was the return of Inmate #42, Tony Allen. TA was his usual spastic self, proving at turns to be both hugely effective and wildly out of control. Shits (Doc) loves Tony, however, so unlike every other young player who is not allowed to play through their mistakes, Tony played the entire 2nd quarter and 30 minutes overall. Strangely enough, the player most affected by this minutes switcheroo? Mark Blount. Hmmm. Of course, Shits also DNP'd Perk until the last 40 seconds, which might have been the stupidest and worst thing he's done all season. Why the fuck must Perk be jerked around? He's effective, works hard, and by rebounding, fills an actual gaping need of this team. He should get ten minutes a game just on principle. Tonight, he could very well have won us the game if he'd been in there rebounding as the momentum slipped away.
Additional note - Gerald Green got sent down to the minors, but apparently Daddy Ainge will be accompanying him for a few games for some completely unfathomable reason. Shouldn't Danny be on the horn looking to unload the $30 million or so in contractual dead weight we're carrying every year? Isn't this a mission better suited for like, Wyc's wife or some otherwise unemployed Celtics legend we have hanging around? What about Willie Maye? Or Doc? A huge prize to the first Celtics fan who brings a "Send Shits Rivers to the NBDL" sign to the game.
Player of the Game - Orien Greene. It is not in my nature to award Celtics in losing causes, but Orien finally played a regular season game that reflected the promise he showed in the pre-season. Perhaps owing to a putative pledge to quit jerking off on nights before games, perhaps not, but he was alert, active and hugely effective, basically the opposite of all his other appearances this year. THIS was the player Ainge prayed he had lucked into when he told Marcus to go fuck himself next season.
Hamcock - Mark Blount. This big dope turned the ball over 3 times in the first five minutes, got whacked in the face by Puchuclia's head, and ended up sitting out most of the last half after getting replaced by a shooting guard who hadn't played all season. His final numbers were a classic Hamcock - 4 points, 0 rebounds, 5 turnovers.
Quote of the Night - "Joe Johnson is prepared to go down on the box," Tom Heinsohn. I thought when you pulled in 13 million a year this was no longer required, but I guess Joe has a demanding lady-friend. Ha ha ha. What else can we find in this? Joe Johnson - slang for what happens when you stick your cock in a cup of coffee? An Australian insult based on the notion of having sex with a kangaroo? Senator Lieberman's nickname for his dick? I dunno. You tell me.
Haven't You Moved On?
Our good friend Jeff has posed the question; who in the world would I put on this team, absent Pierce, to not make them suck? I’ll bite. Couple of disclaimers - This is not to say Pierce is overrated, judging by NBA fan voting, he may be a bit underrated at this point. This is also not to say that all of these players are better than Pierce, although most clearly are. This has nothing to do with possible trades.
Simply, the following list of players, if on the Celtics right now, would make this team better than it is with Pierce.
As the point guard experiments continue with the Celtics, with horrible results, I’m really buying into Way of the Ray’s argument. The only way to build a championship team is with a dominant point guard and big man.
Point Guards
If the Celtics had an excellent point guard, Ricky would be the focus on offense (a role he’s far more suited for), and West could move to his more natural position (starting shooting guard or 3rd guard off the bench). Reed/Gomes could play the three and concentrate on defense and boards. A real point guard would get the ball to Jefferson early and often (a problem right now), as well as reward an athletic team that should be running with easy transition baskets. The following point guards would win more with the current Celtic roster minus PP.
1. Nash
2. Kidd
3. Wade
4. Paul
5. Parker
6. Bibby
7. Hinrich
Big Men
When you have a dominant big man, everything else seems to fall into place. The Celtics have not had a competent, never mind dominant, big man since the Chief. While we all have high hopes for Jefferson, he’s at least three years away from playing like any of these current stars. The Celtics lack rebounding, defense, toughness and playmaking in the frontcourt. Imagine any of the following players alongside Big Al. By becoming a frontcourt oriented team requiring double teams, Ricky and West could feast on open jumpers. The following big men would win more with the current Celtic roster minus PP.
8. Shaq
9. Duncan
10. Garnett
11. Amare
12. Wallace
13. Brand
14. O’Neal
15. Bosh
16. Miller
Better Team Players
I’ve stayed away from players like Kobe, McGrady and Francis. While more talented than Pierce, they share his inability make their teammates better. The following, though, would play a similar role as PP on a hypothetical Celtic team, but they all bring something else to the table.
17. Lebron
18. Iverson
19. Dirk
20. Artest
There you go, Jeff, 20 players who are a better fit for the Celtics than Paul Pierce. Given the current state of the team, my list of players I would trade Pierce for could get me to 50.
Now go back to cleaning Wyc’s taint.
Simply, the following list of players, if on the Celtics right now, would make this team better than it is with Pierce.
As the point guard experiments continue with the Celtics, with horrible results, I’m really buying into Way of the Ray’s argument. The only way to build a championship team is with a dominant point guard and big man.
Point Guards
If the Celtics had an excellent point guard, Ricky would be the focus on offense (a role he’s far more suited for), and West could move to his more natural position (starting shooting guard or 3rd guard off the bench). Reed/Gomes could play the three and concentrate on defense and boards. A real point guard would get the ball to Jefferson early and often (a problem right now), as well as reward an athletic team that should be running with easy transition baskets. The following point guards would win more with the current Celtic roster minus PP.
1. Nash
2. Kidd
3. Wade
4. Paul
5. Parker
6. Bibby
7. Hinrich
Big Men
When you have a dominant big man, everything else seems to fall into place. The Celtics have not had a competent, never mind dominant, big man since the Chief. While we all have high hopes for Jefferson, he’s at least three years away from playing like any of these current stars. The Celtics lack rebounding, defense, toughness and playmaking in the frontcourt. Imagine any of the following players alongside Big Al. By becoming a frontcourt oriented team requiring double teams, Ricky and West could feast on open jumpers. The following big men would win more with the current Celtic roster minus PP.
8. Shaq
9. Duncan
10. Garnett
11. Amare
12. Wallace
13. Brand
14. O’Neal
15. Bosh
16. Miller
Better Team Players
I’ve stayed away from players like Kobe, McGrady and Francis. While more talented than Pierce, they share his inability make their teammates better. The following, though, would play a similar role as PP on a hypothetical Celtic team, but they all bring something else to the table.
17. Lebron
18. Iverson
19. Dirk
20. Artest
There you go, Jeff, 20 players who are a better fit for the Celtics than Paul Pierce. Given the current state of the team, my list of players I would trade Pierce for could get me to 50.
Now go back to cleaning Wyc’s taint.
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
Boob Cats
A win is a win, but it is worth mentioning that tonight we barely survived a squeaker at home against a two year old Bobcats team that was missing its franchise player (Okafor) and two of its better big men (Sean May and Melivn Ely). The Celtics played effectively no defense, turned the ball over 24 times and blew several double digit leads, but managed to hang on due to a huge night from Pierce (no longer overrated) and some timely free throws from Orien Greene.
Yup, it was one for the time capsule. For those who will chose to view this game as a step forward for this wretched team, I just say, "no one has ever gone 0-82."
On the player side of things, it appears that Justin Reed has retaken his lead against Ryan Gomes in the fight for celebrated title of "overrated second rounder getting a few token minutes per game." Brian Scalabrine is now officially back in the rotation and providing naught beyond frequent opportunities for drunken TD Banknorth Garden-ers to vent their spleen (see below). At least tonight he did not appear to sob like a girl. In our daily edition of "as the point guards turn," Banks played a horrific game, while Orien Greene looked a bit less terrible than usual. Doc actually played Ricky fewer than 8 million minutes, and he in turn responded with a good game. In the "Doc is an idiot" column however, he played Perkins 2 minutes and Scalbarine 7. And lastly, the newly celebrated Delonte West and the always-despised Mork Blount each turned the ball over 5 times.
The rest of the night can be summed up in the following refrain, sung to the tune of the Addam's family theme song - "Al Jefferson started, Banks stunk like he farted, Doc Rivers is retarded - the Celtics play no D."
Player of the Game - Paul Pierce. On the eve of my blog partner re-christening himself to remove the ugly stain of hater-dom, Pierce responded with his best game since the road trip, putting up great numbers (31/8/10) in, get this, a Win. If we can't get Luol Deng and that Knicks pick via Chicago for him now, Ainge should be fired. Uhh, I mean, not that he shouldn't be anyway.
Hamcock - Brian Scalabrine. In his own way, Veal is a remarkable player. By my count he has yet to do anything positive on the court in a home game beyond setting one timely pick (which happened, if I am remembering correctly, the last time we played the Bobcats). The boos rain down with regularity as he overshoots 3's, turns the ball over, and commits stupid offensive fouls. Meanwhile Ryan Gomes sits and watches and wonders, "how the fuck can I get this guy's agent?"
Quote of the Night - "I got pictures of Mark Blount!" A.K.H. An old pal of myself and Jerky was at the game and reported this information to me via her cell phone. Of course she pronounced it "Blownt," but then again she was always a bit of a thing that rhymes with Blunt. Nonetheless, she provided the valuable intel that the D-Herpes nickname was fully in effect amongst the fans, along with some crisp booing for tonight (and every night's) Hamcock award recipient, Brian Scalaburine. Looks like we may have our answer to Gabe Kahn...
Yup, it was one for the time capsule. For those who will chose to view this game as a step forward for this wretched team, I just say, "no one has ever gone 0-82."
On the player side of things, it appears that Justin Reed has retaken his lead against Ryan Gomes in the fight for celebrated title of "overrated second rounder getting a few token minutes per game." Brian Scalabrine is now officially back in the rotation and providing naught beyond frequent opportunities for drunken TD Banknorth Garden-ers to vent their spleen (see below). At least tonight he did not appear to sob like a girl. In our daily edition of "as the point guards turn," Banks played a horrific game, while Orien Greene looked a bit less terrible than usual. Doc actually played Ricky fewer than 8 million minutes, and he in turn responded with a good game. In the "Doc is an idiot" column however, he played Perkins 2 minutes and Scalbarine 7. And lastly, the newly celebrated Delonte West and the always-despised Mork Blount each turned the ball over 5 times.
The rest of the night can be summed up in the following refrain, sung to the tune of the Addam's family theme song - "Al Jefferson started, Banks stunk like he farted, Doc Rivers is retarded - the Celtics play no D."
Player of the Game - Paul Pierce. On the eve of my blog partner re-christening himself to remove the ugly stain of hater-dom, Pierce responded with his best game since the road trip, putting up great numbers (31/8/10) in, get this, a Win. If we can't get Luol Deng and that Knicks pick via Chicago for him now, Ainge should be fired. Uhh, I mean, not that he shouldn't be anyway.
Hamcock - Brian Scalabrine. In his own way, Veal is a remarkable player. By my count he has yet to do anything positive on the court in a home game beyond setting one timely pick (which happened, if I am remembering correctly, the last time we played the Bobcats). The boos rain down with regularity as he overshoots 3's, turns the ball over, and commits stupid offensive fouls. Meanwhile Ryan Gomes sits and watches and wonders, "how the fuck can I get this guy's agent?"
Quote of the Night - "I got pictures of Mark Blount!" A.K.H. An old pal of myself and Jerky was at the game and reported this information to me via her cell phone. Of course she pronounced it "Blownt," but then again she was always a bit of a thing that rhymes with Blunt. Nonetheless, she provided the valuable intel that the D-Herpes nickname was fully in effect amongst the fans, along with some crisp booing for tonight (and every night's) Hamcock award recipient, Brian Scalaburine. Looks like we may have our answer to Gabe Kahn...
RIP PierceOverrated
Overrated, Pierce (PO) was peacefully laid to rest on Tuesday after a year and a half of relentless and sometimes warrant less criticism of Boston Celtic caption Paul Pierce. Born on an inferior website, he belittled well-meaning Celtic fans who had the temerity to defend the team’s public face and best player. In the beginning, he used statistics to demonstrate that Pierce’s career arc climaxed in 2002, and steadily decreased for a full 2½ seasons. Pierce’s shooting percentage had plummeted, particularly from three, and his turnovers were way up. As his skills deteriorated, so did his demeanor. The reluctant leader had become a sulky fuck, who drained the joy out of watching the Celtics play.
Paul Pierce sucked, and PO wanted everyone to know about it, especially those Kool-Aid drinkers over at Celticsblog. Pierce Overrated was susceptible to hyperbole and sarcasm to prove his points, but Pierce himself would ultimately nourish his rants with conduct detrimental to winning. Following a benching at the end of a game for yelling at the coach (who we thought had balls at the time, we have since been proved wrong), PO dominated several threads on the blog, insulting anyone who disagreed and leading to his eventual ban by the biggest pussy in the Blogworld. Jeff, a contemptible person, would remain a villain throughout the remainder of his short life.
Plucked out of obscurity by a mad Dr. who ran a far superior website, PO began writing for CelticsDoom, a site described by one of its fine contributors as the Oakland Raiders of the Celtic internet community, a place for the unwashed and unwanted. His move unfortunately coincided with the sudden improvement of Pierce’s game, leading PO to write things like “PP Playing Better, But Still Sucks.” Fortunately for PO, Pierce continued to act like a douche on and off the court. PO’s predictions had come true in meltdowns against the Knicks late in the season, and famously the game 6 incident against Indiana. While most Celtic fans felt horrible watching their hero lose his shit in the most inopportune time, PO felt vindicated.
After screwing the Celtics out of the trade of the decade for a future franchise point guard, Paul Pierce came out in 2005/06 playing terrific basketball, the best of his career. He played within the system, mostly stopped attempting to dribble through entire defenses, and shot the ball at almost 50%, shattering one of PO’s strongest arguments. Conspiracy theorists suggest that DA promised PP a trade to a contender if he played Mr. Happy Face for the first few months. Regardless, PO had been proven wrong.
While PierceOverrated has been correct in stating that a rejuvenated Pierce would do nothing to improve Celtic chances to win a championship, he has been wrong in burying Pierce’s game. PO knew it was coming to an end when he could watch a Celtic game without getting pissed every time Pierce touched the ball.
PierceOverrated leaves his alter-ego, jerkycsfan, who will take his place on the CelticsDoom roster.
Paul Pierce sucked, and PO wanted everyone to know about it, especially those Kool-Aid drinkers over at Celticsblog. Pierce Overrated was susceptible to hyperbole and sarcasm to prove his points, but Pierce himself would ultimately nourish his rants with conduct detrimental to winning. Following a benching at the end of a game for yelling at the coach (who we thought had balls at the time, we have since been proved wrong), PO dominated several threads on the blog, insulting anyone who disagreed and leading to his eventual ban by the biggest pussy in the Blogworld. Jeff, a contemptible person, would remain a villain throughout the remainder of his short life.
Plucked out of obscurity by a mad Dr. who ran a far superior website, PO began writing for CelticsDoom, a site described by one of its fine contributors as the Oakland Raiders of the Celtic internet community, a place for the unwashed and unwanted. His move unfortunately coincided with the sudden improvement of Pierce’s game, leading PO to write things like “PP Playing Better, But Still Sucks.” Fortunately for PO, Pierce continued to act like a douche on and off the court. PO’s predictions had come true in meltdowns against the Knicks late in the season, and famously the game 6 incident against Indiana. While most Celtic fans felt horrible watching their hero lose his shit in the most inopportune time, PO felt vindicated.
After screwing the Celtics out of the trade of the decade for a future franchise point guard, Paul Pierce came out in 2005/06 playing terrific basketball, the best of his career. He played within the system, mostly stopped attempting to dribble through entire defenses, and shot the ball at almost 50%, shattering one of PO’s strongest arguments. Conspiracy theorists suggest that DA promised PP a trade to a contender if he played Mr. Happy Face for the first few months. Regardless, PO had been proven wrong.
While PierceOverrated has been correct in stating that a rejuvenated Pierce would do nothing to improve Celtic chances to win a championship, he has been wrong in burying Pierce’s game. PO knew it was coming to an end when he could watch a Celtic game without getting pissed every time Pierce touched the ball.
PierceOverrated leaves his alter-ego, jerkycsfan, who will take his place on the CelticsDoom roster.
