Saturday, March 31, 2007
Are you smarter than Paul Pierce?
Fresh dispatch from putative television comedy writer and CelticsDoom intern George Meyer! George writes:
“Chesty, Ran afoul of the thought police in the form of Bob ‘Opus’ Day and Roy Hobs, two surly thugs who trample on free expression like so many drunken elephants on a highway of frozen rum (sic). As a fellow Californian, I implore you to stop setting staring at the fires in the Hollywood Hills and get back to the task at hand – writing Celtics articles that cite German cinema and over-labored philosophy, and leave the God-hawking to the pee-brains.”
I think it’s actually “pea” brains George, but we get the message. As for Celticsblog, we remain friends and supporters, but we fear for the health of Jeff’s stat counter should these overzealous actors continue to front the franchise. Lighten up gents, no one’s getting rich off this work.
But onto the important stuff. A new feature we like to call, “How Stupid is Paul Pierce?"
We were going to use our connections in the entertainment industry to set up a “are you smarter than a fifth grader” appearance for the Captain, but no sooner had we stalked out super-producer Mark Burnett at the local Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf, than did Bob Day’s God gift us with this Ghastly Idiocy.
To recap: Paul Pierce suffers through an injury-filled stinker of a season that engenders a lifetime of sympathy and “see we can’t win without him”-isms from gullible Celtics fans, but then,“pee” brain that he is, he destroys this goodwill in an embarrassing interview with Jackie Mac wherein he refers to himself as a “great player” no less than three separate times, and plays the victim for accepting a huge cap-crippling extension, apparently at knife point. For those of us who have spent many years parsing Globe articles to count the number of times The Captain refers to himself as a “veteran all-star,” this was the most concrete evidence yet in the case of “Paul Pierce – ‘I am my own best friend.’”
First of all, the age old debate, is Pierce a “great player”? Of course not. He has made one all-NBA third team and has never been considered the best player at his position, even in his own conference. Kobe is a “great” player, Kidd is a “great” player, LeBron is a “great” player. Ray Allen, Vince Carter and Paul Pierce are not.
Pierce is an over-extended cog in a poorly built machine, a fool who in his heart knows he will never set foot on the moon, but goes around wearing a home made space suit with “NASA” written on the back in crayon. “Where’d you get that thing?” someone might ask. Pierce would answer, “the government gave it to me because I’m such a great astronaut.”
Old news, of course, but now the Captain has thrown his young teammates under the bus as a means of further embellshing his talent and abilities. Is there need for a discussion about why the man entrusted with the captaincy shouldn’t go around endorsing a trade of the guys he's supposed to be leading? Particularly when the only one of these guys anyone wants is a dim-witted manchild who underwent such a dramatic transformation (for the better, thankfully) when he learned he was inches away from being shipped out with a bag of cash for Allen Iverson? Put said man-child's name back in the rumor mill and he might literally turn into a pumpkin.
It’s just poor form. It’s stupid and it’s selfish and Pierce does nothing but hurt his image by airing his “no shit this team sucks” laundry to the newspapers. Would Paul have been so forthcoming had Jackie Mac asked him why such a “great player” melted down in the Pacers playoff series? Or why he routinely jacks up terrible shots and makes stupid turnovers during crucial stretches of winnable games?
For all of Pierce’s bitching and whining, he’s had a fairly easy pass in a town that’s known for hating its heroes. He makes around a quarter of the team’s payroll, he is the face of the franchise, and he plays in a system that gives him his points and all-star stats. Most importantly, he gets to lose more games than he wins and blame the whole thing on the two GM’s, four coaches and dozens of teammates he has played for as a Celtic. He catches heat now and then, but for the most part he is held remarkably blameless by the legitimate media.
By mouthing off about how much his largely self-created situation "sucks," however, he invites the unfavorable comparison to past Celtics players who presided over teams that did not shame the franchise in the way his have. While yes, we've learned that a Pierce-less team is almost unimaginably bad, we also know that a Pierce-led team is by default, mediocre. No matter how much he wants to pretend otherwise, that is Paul Pierce's legacy. That is the Truth.
“Chesty, Ran afoul of the thought police in the form of Bob ‘Opus’ Day and Roy Hobs, two surly thugs who trample on free expression like so many drunken elephants on a highway of frozen rum (sic). As a fellow Californian, I implore you to stop setting staring at the fires in the Hollywood Hills and get back to the task at hand – writing Celtics articles that cite German cinema and over-labored philosophy, and leave the God-hawking to the pee-brains.”
I think it’s actually “pea” brains George, but we get the message. As for Celticsblog, we remain friends and supporters, but we fear for the health of Jeff’s stat counter should these overzealous actors continue to front the franchise. Lighten up gents, no one’s getting rich off this work.
But onto the important stuff. A new feature we like to call, “How Stupid is Paul Pierce?"
We were going to use our connections in the entertainment industry to set up a “are you smarter than a fifth grader” appearance for the Captain, but no sooner had we stalked out super-producer Mark Burnett at the local Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf, than did Bob Day’s God gift us with this Ghastly Idiocy.
To recap: Paul Pierce suffers through an injury-filled stinker of a season that engenders a lifetime of sympathy and “see we can’t win without him”-isms from gullible Celtics fans, but then,“pee” brain that he is, he destroys this goodwill in an embarrassing interview with Jackie Mac wherein he refers to himself as a “great player” no less than three separate times, and plays the victim for accepting a huge cap-crippling extension, apparently at knife point. For those of us who have spent many years parsing Globe articles to count the number of times The Captain refers to himself as a “veteran all-star,” this was the most concrete evidence yet in the case of “Paul Pierce – ‘I am my own best friend.’”
First of all, the age old debate, is Pierce a “great player”? Of course not. He has made one all-NBA third team and has never been considered the best player at his position, even in his own conference. Kobe is a “great” player, Kidd is a “great” player, LeBron is a “great” player. Ray Allen, Vince Carter and Paul Pierce are not.
Pierce is an over-extended cog in a poorly built machine, a fool who in his heart knows he will never set foot on the moon, but goes around wearing a home made space suit with “NASA” written on the back in crayon. “Where’d you get that thing?” someone might ask. Pierce would answer, “the government gave it to me because I’m such a great astronaut.”
Old news, of course, but now the Captain has thrown his young teammates under the bus as a means of further embellshing his talent and abilities. Is there need for a discussion about why the man entrusted with the captaincy shouldn’t go around endorsing a trade of the guys he's supposed to be leading? Particularly when the only one of these guys anyone wants is a dim-witted manchild who underwent such a dramatic transformation (for the better, thankfully) when he learned he was inches away from being shipped out with a bag of cash for Allen Iverson? Put said man-child's name back in the rumor mill and he might literally turn into a pumpkin.
It’s just poor form. It’s stupid and it’s selfish and Pierce does nothing but hurt his image by airing his “no shit this team sucks” laundry to the newspapers. Would Paul have been so forthcoming had Jackie Mac asked him why such a “great player” melted down in the Pacers playoff series? Or why he routinely jacks up terrible shots and makes stupid turnovers during crucial stretches of winnable games?
For all of Pierce’s bitching and whining, he’s had a fairly easy pass in a town that’s known for hating its heroes. He makes around a quarter of the team’s payroll, he is the face of the franchise, and he plays in a system that gives him his points and all-star stats. Most importantly, he gets to lose more games than he wins and blame the whole thing on the two GM’s, four coaches and dozens of teammates he has played for as a Celtic. He catches heat now and then, but for the most part he is held remarkably blameless by the legitimate media.
By mouthing off about how much his largely self-created situation "sucks," however, he invites the unfavorable comparison to past Celtics players who presided over teams that did not shame the franchise in the way his have. While yes, we've learned that a Pierce-less team is almost unimaginably bad, we also know that a Pierce-led team is by default, mediocre. No matter how much he wants to pretend otherwise, that is Paul Pierce's legacy. That is the Truth.
Labels: God-hawking, homemade space suits, Opus Dei
Thursday, March 22, 2007
So wrong it's right
Thank you Coc!
The ethics of this stuff be damned. If we needed to suffer through this ghastly season, at least there should be the hope of reward.
CelticsDoom salutes, in particular, the use of the handy old "cut inside the mouth" as the most emasculating and imaginative faux-injury possible to foist upon the Captain. Someone alert "Behind the Glory" of this crucial new addendum to the stabbing story: "Mighty Pierce felled by errant bicuspid in under-publicized eating mishap." Tony Battie is sure to offer valued incites!
So cheer up Celtics fans. No more need for those "Free William Ragland" signs at the TD Tanknorth Garden. This franchise just grew some balls. Ping Pong Balls!
The ethics of this stuff be damned. If we needed to suffer through this ghastly season, at least there should be the hope of reward.
CelticsDoom salutes, in particular, the use of the handy old "cut inside the mouth" as the most emasculating and imaginative faux-injury possible to foist upon the Captain. Someone alert "Behind the Glory" of this crucial new addendum to the stabbing story: "Mighty Pierce felled by errant bicuspid in under-publicized eating mishap." Tony Battie is sure to offer valued incites!
So cheer up Celtics fans. No more need for those "Free William Ragland" signs at the TD Tanknorth Garden. This franchise just grew some balls. Ping Pong Balls!
Labels: Coc as Force For Good, ethics, TD Tanknorth
Monday, March 19, 2007
Tanks for Nothing
Contrary to popular belief, I want the Celtics to succeed. But I do have a tough time swallowing the idea that beating San Antonio for the first time in 17 years stands as any kind of meaningful development. To me, it never was anything more than a weird statistic that served as an example of how the lottery plays a huge role in building a winning NBA franchise.
So in that sense, finally defeating the Spurs in a game that further jeopardizes our impending draft position is all the more appropriate as an example of how fucked up the Celtics are run as an organization.
It takes three things to win in the NBA – money, balls (as in, “nerve”) and luck. Two first two of these things are in the owner’s hands (so to speak), and the third is overrated. That the Celtics have been perceived of as “cursed” or “unlucky” is simply a shorthand for acknowledging they’ve been chronically mismanaged by cheap owners who made a bad situation worse by refusing to take a financial hit while rebuilding the franchise correctly.
The Celtics have not had a clear-cut vision as a franchise since at least the early 90’s. During the current era (or “blog-era” as I’m starting to think of it) they lucked into Al Jefferson at #15, but they remain a team primarily comprised of talent drafted mid to late in the first round (or busts like Bassy who we traded a low lottery pick for). The team flirted with a marginal and shameful definition of success during the O’Brien era (typified by OB’s “we did play for a championship, the Eastern Conference Championship” quote), but it was with a team built out of hope, spare parts and an unearthly commitment to team defense. It was built to fall short, ultimately, and should rightfully have been dismantled ENTIRELY.
But instead, Ainge came in, traded Antoine for a headache, and we suffer to this moment, finding embarrassing joy in a meaningless regular season defeat over a declining Spurs team that has won three NBA championships over a period of time where the Celtics have won exactly three playoff series. Yeah. Exactly. Pop a fucking cork.
Which brings me to the point of this whole thing. Why the fuck are the Celtics winning games? We have within our grasp the one single opportunity to turn the franchise around and bring some purpose to the suffering the fans have endured for lo these endless seasons. Yet, suddenly we’re playing like the 38 win team we’re destined to be, beating crappy lotto teams and keeping it close against superior squads. And yes, taking down the Spurs on a good night.
Whatever. We must tank. We have to tank. There is nothing to be gained from not tanking. Do people truly believe poor cuddly Delonte and dim witted Big Al are going to lose faith and crumble as men (and ball players) if Paul Pierce comes down with back-spasms and suddenly Allen Ray gets 32 minutes a night? Please. These guys play for a paycheck, first and foremost, and any mental trauma they may incur during this season will be well and duly offset by having a franchise center stabilizing the defense and turning this team into a real playoff threat.
You see, basketball players are not, in the real world, the loveable, fragile altruists that fans project their epic fantasies of redemption, fraternity and fairness upon. Basketball players are either talented or untalented, smart or dumb, driven or lazy. Just like you and me! It’s not magic, really. For the most part, players can play on a bad team one year and on a good team the next. It depends on the mix of talent around them, the coaching, and whether or not their skills fit the system.
Rarely, as in the case of Magic or Bird or Shaq or LeBron (kind of), one guy can come in and turn the whole thing around. A guy who won’t tolerate losing and who has the talent to make everyone around him better. If we had a guy like that, I could buy the argument that his mind and spirit might be warped by a tank job.
But we do not have one of those guys. We have a bunch of guys for whom no one will weep should they finish with the 2nd worst record in the NBA securely in their grasp. We do have a bunch of guys, however, who might actually be worth watching next year if the best player among them is named Greg Oden.
And that’s why these dipshits who run this team ought to grow a pair of balls and do everything they can to make it happen.
So in that sense, finally defeating the Spurs in a game that further jeopardizes our impending draft position is all the more appropriate as an example of how fucked up the Celtics are run as an organization.
It takes three things to win in the NBA – money, balls (as in, “nerve”) and luck. Two first two of these things are in the owner’s hands (so to speak), and the third is overrated. That the Celtics have been perceived of as “cursed” or “unlucky” is simply a shorthand for acknowledging they’ve been chronically mismanaged by cheap owners who made a bad situation worse by refusing to take a financial hit while rebuilding the franchise correctly.
The Celtics have not had a clear-cut vision as a franchise since at least the early 90’s. During the current era (or “blog-era” as I’m starting to think of it) they lucked into Al Jefferson at #15, but they remain a team primarily comprised of talent drafted mid to late in the first round (or busts like Bassy who we traded a low lottery pick for). The team flirted with a marginal and shameful definition of success during the O’Brien era (typified by OB’s “we did play for a championship, the Eastern Conference Championship” quote), but it was with a team built out of hope, spare parts and an unearthly commitment to team defense. It was built to fall short, ultimately, and should rightfully have been dismantled ENTIRELY.
But instead, Ainge came in, traded Antoine for a headache, and we suffer to this moment, finding embarrassing joy in a meaningless regular season defeat over a declining Spurs team that has won three NBA championships over a period of time where the Celtics have won exactly three playoff series. Yeah. Exactly. Pop a fucking cork.
Which brings me to the point of this whole thing. Why the fuck are the Celtics winning games? We have within our grasp the one single opportunity to turn the franchise around and bring some purpose to the suffering the fans have endured for lo these endless seasons. Yet, suddenly we’re playing like the 38 win team we’re destined to be, beating crappy lotto teams and keeping it close against superior squads. And yes, taking down the Spurs on a good night.
Whatever. We must tank. We have to tank. There is nothing to be gained from not tanking. Do people truly believe poor cuddly Delonte and dim witted Big Al are going to lose faith and crumble as men (and ball players) if Paul Pierce comes down with back-spasms and suddenly Allen Ray gets 32 minutes a night? Please. These guys play for a paycheck, first and foremost, and any mental trauma they may incur during this season will be well and duly offset by having a franchise center stabilizing the defense and turning this team into a real playoff threat.
You see, basketball players are not, in the real world, the loveable, fragile altruists that fans project their epic fantasies of redemption, fraternity and fairness upon. Basketball players are either talented or untalented, smart or dumb, driven or lazy. Just like you and me! It’s not magic, really. For the most part, players can play on a bad team one year and on a good team the next. It depends on the mix of talent around them, the coaching, and whether or not their skills fit the system.
Rarely, as in the case of Magic or Bird or Shaq or LeBron (kind of), one guy can come in and turn the whole thing around. A guy who won’t tolerate losing and who has the talent to make everyone around him better. If we had a guy like that, I could buy the argument that his mind and spirit might be warped by a tank job.
But we do not have one of those guys. We have a bunch of guys for whom no one will weep should they finish with the 2nd worst record in the NBA securely in their grasp. We do have a bunch of guys, however, who might actually be worth watching next year if the best player among them is named Greg Oden.
And that’s why these dipshits who run this team ought to grow a pair of balls and do everything they can to make it happen.
Labels: balls, busts, fragile altruists
