Paul Pierce deserves this

"I was on my way to the airport last year at this time."

We can pile the Player of the Week honors on Kevin Garnett. We can laud Doc Rivers as the Eastern Conference Coach of the Month. (Actually, no we can't, because I don't want any part of that, but you can do whatever makes you happy, pumpkin.) But the person I personally was happiest to see strolling out of the Garden following the Celtics' 66th and final win of a spectacular regular season was Paul Pierce.

It's simply impossible not to love Pierce. He's not the kind of player you just like. You LOVE him. The 6-time All-Star has suffered through almost 10 goddamn years of Celtics ineptitude and disappointment. He came back from being stabbed 11 TIMES and needing subsequent lung surgery to emerge as the team's unquestioned leader. He's still responsible for the biggest 4th-quarter comeback EVER in the NBA Playoffs. He's the first member of the Celtics since Larry Bird to top 2,000 points in one season. As His Royal Shaq-iness so eloquently put it: Paul Pierce is the motherfucking truth.

It's been easy this year to get distracted by the visceral, hypnotic dance that is Kevin Garnett on the court or the breathtaking, buzzer-beating 3-pointers of Ray Allen. But behind it all, Paul Pierce is still the motherfucking truth. He's averaging 19.6 PPG with 4.5 assists over 80 of 82 games this season. Moreover, he's looked so freaking HAPPY at every game this year. The beaten, hangdog look Pierce used to wear on the sidelines belied the ferocity of his play; watching him in years past, it's been almost impossible to understand how he continued to play the way he did for a team that was so obviously holding him back from the championships he deserved. Not this year, though. Pierce's enjoyment of his new team has been evident every step of the way. He'd physically slimmed down with the intent of becoming a more effective defender in the offseason, but there was a mental lightness in his step as well. The Truth doesn't always have to hurt. The Truth had been set free.

The Big Three weren't in for much of last night's win; their lone appearance was a 3rd-quarter cameo that wound up being less than impressive as they allowed New Jersey to go on a 17-4 run. But there's no question that they will be the explosion that everybody turns to watch when the playoffs kick off on Saturday. And nobody will be happier than Paul Pierce to be at the center of that explosion.

And, just 2 weeks ago, he became a daddy.

Congratulations, Celtics, and congratulations, Paul Pierce. You've earned your way here. Now show 'em what you've got.

The Celtics are headed to the playoffs!

Why do I feel like KG might be singing to the ball in this picture? Perhaps it's a still from the upcoming musical adaptation of the Celtics' 2008 season?

This surely doesn't come as surprising news -- I think everyone's been expecting to see the C's make it to the playoffs since before the season even started. But last night's 90-78 victory over Detroit sealed the deal, making the Celtics the first team in the NBA to earn a berth in this year's playoffs with a month and a half still left to play. Chauncy Billups was on Rajon Rondo like cheese on nachos and still couldn't hold him, as Rondo scored 16; Kevin Garnett contributed a season-high 31 points; Kendrick Perkins had 20 FREAKING BOARDS. It was a close game most of the way until the C's went on a 12-0 tear with around 5 minutes left in the 4th quarter and made it official. Well done, boys. This girl's proud of you.

Yeah, yeah. Western Conference ridiculously competitive stronger defense faster level of play more playoffs experience blah blah. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

Hooray for basketball

It was a decent weekend for basketball. First off, my Celtics finally managed to figure out how NOT to get stomped all over by the Western Conference last night (the key, apparently, was for Paul Pierce to start hitting 3-pointers again). Second, the Vols' win over previously undefeated Memphis on Saturday made for some pretty exciting watching. Tennessee basketball is pretty much the only sports allegiance I have in common with my lovely but somewhat contrarian roommate (her because of her dad, me because I think Bruce Pearl is awesome), so we enjoyed cheering on the boys together.

On that theme, here is a link to quite possibly the greatest basketball-related post I have ever seen. I just about fell out of my chair laughing.

LeBron James: Atomic Superman

It's not exactly news that LeBron James is really, really, nasty good at basketball. But holy crap, the man scored 51 points in an overtime win against Memphis last night. The game, which marks the 4th time in his already-illustrious career that LeBron has scored 50 or more in a game, included a 25-POINT 4TH QUARTER. Um, that's ridiculous.

He's really showing us what a man with a cannon in his chest can do!

Incidentally, over those 4 times that LeBron has scored 50 or more, Cleveland's record is only 2-2. What a freaking waste. It's got to be a frustrating feeling to score 50-something points in a game knowing that the rest of your lame team can't even get it together to help you win. Kind of like how Erik Bedard feels every time he pitches, I'll bet.

(sorry, John... I try to keep the Cleveland-hating to a minimum)

The Celtics need a boost

Obviously, our record is still out-of-this-world good. (30-6? Yeah, I'll take it. The only team even close to that is the red-hot Pistons, who are 28-10.) Still, dropping two in a row to the Gilbert Arenas-less Wizards? I don't like it. Antawn Jamison put together a neat little double-double last night, and the Big Three just didn't have any backup from the rest of their team. Boo.

In order to show my support for the home team (incidentally, I've been a Celtics fan my whole life. Before this year. Before we got good. Back when Antoine Walker was a big deal around these parts.), I decided to invest in this:





8-game win streak, here we come.

On another note, I'd be worried if I were Agent Zero right now. Washington is on a tear without him... rumor has it team chemistry is actually better without his showboating personality and locker-room antics. Too bad.

Stephon Marbury: liar?

Saying this might actually make me a terrible person, but isn't it just a little suspicious that Stephon Marbury's father just happened to die right at a time when Marbury is clearly pissed off with the Knicks and doesn't want to play? Marbury gets bumped from the starting lineup, storms out on Isaiah Thomas, gets slapped with almost $200,000 in fines that he is currently appealing... and now, oh-so-conveniently, his father passes away just in time to give him 2 weeks off from working the bench for a team that's already posted losses to Chicago, Seattle, and the Clippers? I don't buy this for a minute. I'm sure Marbury has a tearful phony voicemail message saying that he's at the funeral home while he's actually out having wacky adventures with his uptight but loveable best friend. He's clearly faking it.



Or maybe he killed his father.

So... busy... yet... so... unproductive...

To swamped to share anything but this moment of glory from Saturday's game. Yay!

6-0

Yep.

Celts now 3-0, Boston fans still enjoy ridiculously inflated senses of self-worth

To be honest, I was kind of hoping the C's game against Denver last night would give me something interesting to comment on, but the Nuggets wound up getting absolutely thrashed and I am left with no choice but to perpetuate the never-ending douchebaggery that being a Boston fan entails these days. In case you missed the game (which you probably did because the only channel even showing it in Boston was Comcast Sports for some reason), here's a quick summary:

1. Boston scores.
2. Denver takes it down the court, shoots, misses.
3. Kevin Garnett rebounds, makes everyone around him look small and helpless.
4. Boston takes it back down, scores.
5. Carmelo Anthony fouls someone.
6. Celtics fans drink more, cheer for Kevin Youkilis.
7. Boston scores again.
8. Bob Cousy makes reference to Togo Palazzi. (Fun fact: Back in the day, when I was railroaded into playing basketball since I was one of those awkward chicks who hit 5'7" by 6th grade, I went to one of Togo's basketball clinics. I'm awesome!)
9. Boston scores again.
10. Eduardo Najera checks reflection in shiny surface of parquet floor to ensure that hair is still properly coiffed.
11. Boston scores.
12. Lather.
13. Rinse.
14. Repeat.

The final score was 119-93, and even that isn't really indicative of how much of an ass-whomping this game was. The Celts led 77-38 at the half and enjoyed a lead of 41 at one point. Whoo baby... BOSTON!

Incidentally, the Bruins lost to Buffalo in overtime last night, so there you go. We too suffer setbacks and face hardships.

Question of the day #1 -- Which is actually more asinine: to be a douchebaggy Boston fan, or to complain about how you really WANT not to be a douchebaggy Boston fan, but can't HELP it because your teams are all just so GOOD? (Obviously, I'm a fan of the latter.)

Question of the day #2 -- Should I buy this? (Correct answer: Yes.)

I had to come down at some point...

No, I actually haven't been able to blog for the past week or so. Not because I've been busy, but because every intelligent post I tried to write still wound up deteriorating within the first 2 minutes or so into something like this:

OMGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG BOSTON WON THE WORLD SERIES I AM HAVING 14,317 OF EACH PLAYER ON THE TEAM'S BABIES WE DID IT AGAIN BOSTON 4EVA

and so on in that fashion. And no one wants to read that. Nor do I particularly want to subject my loyal readers (Hi, Mom! Hi, Mike!) to repeated bludgeoning with the obvious fact of my superiority as a human being by virtue of being associated with a winning athletic organization. So, having given the World Series victory (!!!!!!!!!!!1!!!) a week or so to mature and pass from immediate consciousness to the pantheon of things I can tell my grandchildren about (and for my brain cells to emerge from the beer-soaked haze that was Games 2, 3, and 4), it is time to turn our attention elsewhere in the world of sports.



I finally caught my first Bruins game of the season on Thursday: an exciting 4-3 overtime win over Buffalo. I was disappointed that I didn't get to see Manny Fernandez goaltend... apparently he stepped on a puck at the end of a practice last week and twisted his ankle. Um, really? Tim Thomas made 27 saves and looked great, though, so good for him. Unfortunately, the other two Bruins games this weekend did not go as well, as we lost to Ottawa (wow, I just learned how to spell that) twice, including a loss in a shootout (which we still get points for because the NHL is weird) last night. The B's are now 7-5-1, which should surprise you only inasmuch as I bet you had no idea we were already that deep into the hockey season.



The Celtics, by contrast, are only 2 games into their season, but they've won both of them. Last night's OT victory against Toronto was actually a pretty exciting watch; however, no one in New England cared, since it was going on during "Superbowl XLI 1/2" or whatever ridiculous name you feel like dubbing last night's football showdown. Ray Allen hit a 3-pointer with 2.6 seconds left in overtime to give Boston the win, 98-95. On a somewhat less jubilant note, Doc Rivers was not on hand to coach the game, as his father passed away yesterday. No sarc here whatsoever: I hope the Doc is doing well.

I'm dying to talk about the Pats/Colts game, but dammit I'm supposed to be AVOIDING Masshole-ness. Guhh. In the name of humility, I should mention that BC golden boy Matt Ryan suffered his first loss of the season at the hands of Florida State this weekend. Sigh. Too bad Boston is such a pro sports town that this will barely register as a blip on the radar of the average local fan, sated with victory after sweet, sweet victory as said fan already is. I am never moving.

What's Eating Gilbert Arenas?

Not sharks, apparently. From the man's oh-so-entertaining blog:

There Are No Such Thing as Shark Attacks

I know this is random, but I just want to clear this up for people out there.
There are these things called shark attacks, but there is no such thing as a shark attack. I have never seen a real shark attack.
I know you’re making a weird face as you’re reading this. OK people, a shark attack is not what we see on TV and what people portray it as.
We’re humans. We live on land.
Sharks live in water.
So if you’re swimming in the water and a shark bites you, that’s called trespassing. That is called trespassing. That is not a shark attack.
A shark attack is if you’re chilling at home, sitting on your couch, and a shark comes in and bites you; now that’s a shark attack. Now, if you’re chilling in the water, that is called invasion of space. So I have never heard of a shark attack.
When I see on the news where it’s like, “There have been 10 shark attacks,” I’m like, “Hey, for real?! They’re just running around? Sharks are walking now, huh! We live on the land, we don’t live underwater.”

Thanks for sharing, Gilbert. In response, sharks had this to say:

Yum.

(Thanks Mike!)

I could get used to this

Who knew blogging could be so rewarding? My very first day as a blogger, not only do I finally discover a cathartic, non-violent outlet for my fantasy baseball rage, but I discover another, much cooler blog, make my first ever blog comment on said blog, and get a shout-out in return. Hooray!

For those of you who didn't make it to the movie theaters this weekend, the text over Magglio (my vote for AL MVP, for obvious reasons) is from the long-awaited "Simpsons Movie," which I (along with 80 gajillion other people) saw this weekend. Now, truthfully, I don't consider my opinion on movies in general to be of any help to other people, since it is a well-documented fact that I like really stupid movies and tend to completely miss the point of movies that everyone else thinks are great. Whatever. The point is: the movie is funny. Very funny. Not really REALLY funny -- not "they said that would happen in health class" funny, maybe not even idiot-falling-off-a-treadmill funny. But very funny nonetheless, not to mention laden with inside references to reward those of us who have spent far, far too many hours watching the show and committing its dialogue to memory. (In other words, my entire family.) So I recommend it... at least until this weekend, when "The Bourne Ultimatum" comes out and I regress to 8th grade at the sight of Matt Damon. OMG MATT 4EVAAAAAAAAAA!!1!

Also, today is a good day to talk about trades, being as how it's the MLB trade deadline and there are some big ones (not necessarily baseball ones, either) in the air.

• Mark Teixeira. This doesn't directly affect me in any way, but it's exciting for a number of reasons, the primary one being that the NL East is just a lot of fun to follow right now, and this makes it even more interesting. The Mets riding high, the Phillies on a tear despite Utley's injury, and now Atlanta adding Teixeira's sweet bat to their lineup? Should make for an exciting August and September. Second, between this and the Kenny Lofton trade, it looks like the Rangers are actually putting together some fairly exciting prospects for the fall. Amid the flurry of last-minute padding for the post-season, the Rangers seem to be quietly ceding the rest of the season (at 15.5 games out, that's not surprising) and selling off their offensive leaders in favor of pulling together a strong young team for next year. I like it, I really do. It's not even the post-season and I'm already amped for next season. Yay baseball! Third, and I don't think I'm alone in saying this, I'd like to think that this trade means that everyone's favorite Italian boy, catcher Jarrod Saltalamacchialalalalalalala, will finally see some more playing time. Interesting factoid: At 14 letters, Saltalamacchia boasts the longest last name in the history of major league baseball. Beat THAT record, Barry Bonds. And, finally, since Laura, my soon-to-be-roommate, hails from Atlanta, I must say that I'm glad that residents/fans of "the city where the players play" (where they ride on them streets like every day) have something to talk about that doesn't involve, you know, dog electrocution. In this trade, it seems, everyone comes out a winner.
• Eric Gagne and/or Jermaine Dye. With the trade deadline looming, these appear to be the two trades that the Sox front office has on the table. Hmm... let me think... with an offensively struggling and injury-prone J.D. Drew dragging down the outfield, a team considers making a trade for Jermaine Dye... why does this sound familiar... hmm... OH GOD NO DON'T DO IT! NO! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! *wakes up in a cold sweat* Huh? Where was I? Oh. Right. My personal fantasy league vendettas aside, both of these trades have good potential -- not in terms of providing us with a massive boost in any particular category, but rather by bolstering the Sox in some weaker areas. I like that Dye can play first, so he can provide support for Youkilis as well as the outfield, and as far as Eric Gagne is concerned, WE NEED MIDDLE RELIEF PITCHING. We could do much worse that having to choose between a Cy Young winner and a World Series MVP. Either way, I guess I'll know which direction the Sox decide to go in by the end of the day... and either way, one thing is for sure: I'll spend the rest of the season complaining that the decision they made was the wrong one. Hooray!
• Bobby Abreu. Nope. Hawkins appears to have gotten cold feet on this one (and to think, a week ago he was offering me Jason Bay for Roy Oswalt!), so The Turtles will remain as they are for now, unless I accept one of Safran's ridiculous 3-mediocre-players-for-one-Alfonso-Soriano trades. Which I won't.
• The D Line. I'd been taking the C from Cleveland Circle to get downtown because of the stupid shuttle bus on the D Line when it occured to me that I can still just get on the D at Reservoir and get downtown in about half the time -- plus, to make up for the irritating construction, the MBTA is letting people ride inbound from Reservoir for free. It seems that Boston's ridiculous, convoluted, outdated subway system is finally working in my favor. Maybe they figure they owe me since I lived on the B(ullshit) Line all this past year.

and, finally, obviously, the big one...

• Kevin Garnett. I know, I know, it hasn't been confirmed yet... I mean, it was confirmed in The Herald, but that POS newspaper is about as reliable as that dental student I met at Clery's a few weeks ago who told me I was the perfect girl for him. Seriously, though, I'm excited about this trade. For several reasons. No, this is not the most exciting thing to happen to Boston sports this year (RANDY MOSS RANDY MOSS RANDY MOSS), but I'd like to think that the addition of K-Garn to my beloved Celtics will make people in Boston start giving a shit about the Celtics again, especially after we got screwed over in the draft pick lottery. It would be nice to go to a Celts game and have it be CROWDED for once, or to go out around the Garden and see people who are out drinking because they just came from a basketball game (instead of because they came to watch the Cavs game at a sports bar). Damn it, I want to be able to wear my glitter-ized Paul Pierce jersey with PRIDE!!! So, Kevin Garnett, I welcome you to Boston with (glittery) open arms. Maybe I'll even start a chicks-only fan club for you, a la Grady's Ladies. I'll call it Garnett's... Pets. Yeesh. Well, I'll get back to you on that. But welcome to Beantown nonetheless.
  

Happy MLB Trade Deadline Day, everyone. May your favorite team be showered with whatever it is they need showering with, be it relief pitching, solid fielding, good baserunning, or good old fashioned love.