Tankology

After the Celtics’ 104-102 loss to the Milwaukee Bucks on Friday night, the team cementing its spot as second-most likely team to get its lottery dreams fulfilled, I think I speak for all Celtic fans when I say: It's about [bleeping] time.

And no, there's nothing celebratory in that statement, no champagne corks being popped to commemorate achieving statistical odds that are still decidedly not in favor of the C's actually cashing in on the No. 1 or No. 2 pick in the 2007 NBA draft. Don't get me wrong. Like all Celtics fans, I wanted the C's to have the best chance possible for those top two picks. And that slightly-less-than-40-percent chance was the only tangible goal tied to the immediate future of this franchise that we could root for these last few weeks.

But I don't feel the least bit good watching the way it happened. Not good at all.

Look, there's been a lot of talk of tanking the past, oh, month or so. I don't want be one to rehash old points, especially when the accusation is something that doesn't seem to bother most people who bleed green.

But for me, this was too much to take. Giving an honest effort to win, to improve as an organization and coming up short is one thing. But the type of blatant disregard for each game's final score really got to me after a while.

I tried. I tried very hard at first to be happy with each loss to our lottery competition. I know that winning these games was not in the best interest of the organization. See, I dream of Durant or Oden in green every night, too (including a particularly disturbing nightmare just a few days ago where I read that Oden was going to stay in school another year – luckily it looks like I won't have to worry about that cruel dream repeating itself).

But then I saw what happens when the desire of the fans to lose infects the team, and, more specifically, the management and coach, and I wasn't so sure I felt comfortable with it anymore.

It all started with the first real tank job against Charlotte. It was a 'masterfully' executed loss because it didn't necessarily have the outward appearance of an attempt to throw the game at first – Pierce had what looked to be a nasty-looking contusion over his eye after being poked in the face in the third quarter, and thus he could justifiably be considered out for the game. Al Jefferson logged 34 minutes of pretty dominant ball, but probably needed a rest for a while, as did Delonte.

And so the first official "tank unit" of Leon Powe, Sebastian Telfair, Allan Ray, Ryan Gomes and Gerald Green took the court and undid their compatriots' work in the previous three quarters during a six-minute span in the fourth quarter, making sure the C's fell far enough behind that even late-game cameos by Al and Delonte couldn't save the win.

Then came Doc Rivers' infamous post-game press conference in which he stated he "wasn't tanking," but that he wanted to teach some guys a lesson, guys who had been complaining about playing time. Here's your chance, he said. Show me why you deserve to play.

Here's the lesson I think they learned: you can't score or play effective defense when you're on the floor with a unit who hasn't before played together, or on a unit where at least three guys are playing out of position.

But that should have been it, right? Lesson learned, fellas. You're not that good. Especially when playing with other guys who are not that good. So quit complaining about playing time. Right? Wasn't that Doc's supposed lesson?

Doesn't seem like much of a lesson to me. However, Doc attributed that lesson to helping the C's pull out consecutive impressive victories against Toronto and Orlando mere games later, soon followed by a Pierce-less win against the LeBron-less Cavs.

Of course, those were games the C's were trying to win, because those teams weren't a direct threat to steal the C's ping-pong balls. The Celts could play "spoiler" with a clean conscience.

But when, on April 4, the competition became a Milwaukee team intent on out-tanking the C's for that coveted No. 2 spot, Doc and Co. weren't having any of it, masterfully pulling out the loss even though every single notable Bucks player didn't suit up for the game. This was the big loss, the most meaningful one of the season, because a C's win would have put Milwaukee just a game back for that No. 2 spot. The term "must-lose game" was used more than once.

The magnitude of importance of the game was not lost on Tommy Heinsohn, who, after being left in a somewhat speechless rage at the end of the C's Charlotte tank-job, quickly and shockingly jumped on the "must-lose" bandwagon, declaring the following in the pregame show, after learning of all the Bucks players who would not suit up and without even a discernable hint of sarcasm:

"I would absolutely walk it up the floor, I would have Rondo going for 3's, I would have Allan Ray driving strong to get layups, and I would also have Perk playing point guard."

Wh....wh.......a.....aaaa...wh...WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO TOMMY!?!?!!

What followed those disturbing comments was an ugly game that saw about five more lineup combinations that the C's hadn't played all year, as well as a great "tank" moment from the Bucks early in the fourth quarter when Ruben Patterson threw a perfect pass right to a shocked official on the sidelines. Late in the game, Tommy then proceeded to reverse-jinx Dan Gadzuric at the free-throw line, declaring "he's a horrible free-throw shooter," before delightfully congratulating himself and his Salem University degree when Gadzuric made one to effectively put the game out of reach, ensuring the C's a firm hold on their ping-pong balls.

Now, I appreciated the statistical importance of losing this game. But a world where Tommy Heinsohn is openly rooting for the C's to lose a game is not a world I feel comfortable inhabiting.

And so it was with an increasing amount of disgust and depression that I watched the C's ensuing six-game (and counting) losing streak. Disgust with the play of the remnants of the C's depleted roster. Disgust with Doc Rivers for not putting his admittedly flawed players in the best possible situations to win games. Disgust with myself for trying to be happy after each loss. Disgust with the state of the team and the fans and the ownership and the management.

I couldn't handle the internal conflict anymore. I had rooted for hard-fought losses before, but most times found them neither hard-fought nor satisfying when they did lose. But after watching Doc not call timeouts late in losses to Miami and the most recent Milwaukee game, letting his ill-equipped and under-coached team fumble away losses as the seconds ticked away, I felt ashamed.

Look, I don't think the players were trying to lose any of these games intentionally. I do, however, think they weren't properly motivated to give their best efforts as a team. I also think that Doc intentionally did not make his best effort coaching the team in late, close situations, under the guise of "I wanted to see what the guys would do" or "I thought we had a favorable matchup and didn’t want a timeout to ruin it" even though he had to know the players on the floor would not pull off what he supposedly wanted to see them do.

What killed me most was the end of Friday night's Milwaukee game. After calling a timeout with 37 seconds left, Doc called a set that sprung Leon Powe for a driving hoop and foul, cutting the deficit to 2. The C's then played decent defense to get a steal with 12 seconds left in the game. So what does Doc do? Does he call a timeout to set up another play like the one that worked so well just 25 seconds prior? Nope.

He lets a confused Allan Ray run down the court with the ball, pass to Leon Powe over half court, get the ball back, hand it to Powe, who passes to Telfair for a rushed heave well beyond the three-point line. At no point in those 12 seconds did the Celtics look capable of thinking on their feet to get a good shot. At no point during those 12 seconds did Doc Rivers call for a timeout, even when things were obviously going so horribly wrong. Doc said after the game that Ray had an isolation on Lynn Greer, so he decided to go with it. Really? That's playing to win a game? That's giving your best effort to put your guys in a position to succeed?

The loss put the C's officially in the No. 2 spot in the lottery, and ended the madness that has infected Celtics basketball. Against a backdrop of a night where the Celtics honored the 50th anniversary of their very first championship, they reminded us of just how long ago that really was. I can only wonder what those members of the '57 championship team really thought of the game they had just witnessed.

So now, with a mere three games left in the season, the Celtics can cut the strings off of their limbs and play without consequence. Winning and losing no longer affects their draft position, and I'd be very surprised if they resemble the same team on the court that has been caught in competitive juxtaposition this last month.

But whatever happens, I know that I can finally go back to rooting for this team to win games without fearing the future implications. I know that I will no longer have to question if every substitution or late-game play call has ulterior motives. And, most importantly, I no longer have to deal with the guilty conscience that comes with being satisfied – even happy - after losses.

And more than those ping-pong ball probabilities, that alone is worth celebrating.