A bad movie

Come on, now. This is just getting cruel.

Who else but Ricky Davis and Mark Blount to not only extend the Celtics' agony to eighteen, but also rub it in all of our collective faces?

Although the way things have gone this season, there's probably not a single Celtic fan alive that didn't see that one coming.

In fact, it's almost like it was scripted. I think I even saw the scenes written out on cue cards behind the baskets:

Paul Pierce: Play like a madman, shock everyone by playing way past your "20-minute limit," get to the line and hit big shots to make it seem like the messiah has returned to put an end to the most ignominious period in Celtics history.

Delonte West: Pass up open shot No. 2,304 and drive to the basket while pretending to forget a shot clock exists before throwing it away.

"Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world. She took the midnight train going anywhere..." (David Sherman/Getty Images)

Ricky Davis: Hit game winning jumper with 0.2 seconds left. Hold arm in the air up after hitting jumper for 10 seconds in front of the Celtics bench. Let the cameras soak in the triumph.

Mark Blount: Jubilantly jump into the statuesque arms of Ricky and then parade back down the court together like a drunk couple during the last dance at the senior prom.

And ... Scene.

Frankly, I think I'd rather be a participant in a real-life reenactment of all three 'Saw' movies than watch one more replay of the end of that game again.

It's a shame, really. The plot was moving along so well before the disappointing ending. For the first time in about a month, the C's played with the kind of toughness and hustle that made them lovable losers, as opposed to the lamentable flunkies they had become.

Pierce was miraculously rediscovering every one of his All-Star moves to give the C's the kind of offensive threat they couldn't even come close to reproducing in his absence. He was driving the ball in crunch time, getting to the line every time, sinking every one of his free throws, and then, when the Wolves focused on him, he found his teammates in great positions to score down the stretch.

Kendrick Perkins was playing with a fire we haven't seen since the ole' foot went bum, manning-up on Mark Blount and asserting himself in the paint with a ferociousness that was desperately needed, including a great play where he wrestled a rebound from Blount, turned, and laid it in nicely. Of course, Blount was hitting some ridiculous shots that Perk didn't have a chance of stopping, but his effort was there on the defensive end.

Gerald Green was back to hitting his open threes, and even throwing in a nice left-hand dribble drive for a tough layup. Left-handed ball-handling. Gerald Green. Two things that I didn't think I'd see this year. Very encouraging.

Delonte West and Brian Scalabrine desperately diving all over the floor to corral the ball and keep possession during a key point in the game.

Rajon Rondo was consistently attacking the lane with the ball, as well as a nice give-and-go with Pierce that got Rondo to the line (When's the last time the C's ran a successful give-and-go?).

Ryan Gomes was hitting his open jumpers to keep the Wolves' D honest.

Of course, with the aforementioned positive developments, many of the same problems that have doomed the Celtics during this horrible stretch reared their head as well.

There was Al Jefferson and Delonte West (twice) losing track of the shot clock for unforgivable 24-second violations.

There were Celtic players stepping on the out-of-bounds line after faking shots (which were usually open shots) and starting a drive, another manifestation of those back-breaking unforced turnovers.

There was the porous, disorganized defense.

There were former Celtics gleefully sticking it to their former team.

And before the credits rolled, there was another loss. The most heartbreaking one to date.