If you missed it or couldn't find it, this week's media column can be found right here.

As you might have suspected had you read the piece in the paper or know me at all, I had intended to write about Tommy Heinsohn and Mike Gorman's take on the Celtics entering Tuesday's opener . . . and then The New York Post found out about Steve Phillips's fledgling Alex Forrest wannabe, and you know what they say about the best-laid plans.

(Um . . . I'm talking about my plans there, not Phillips's. Just to be clear.)

Anyway, as you might expect, Heinsohn and Gorman were terrific to talk to, opinionated and funny and candid about the team for which they'll be calling games for the 29th straight year on television.

I didn't want it to go to waste -- and didn't want to completely end up wasting their time -- so I figured I'd dish out some of the stuff that didn't fit or have a place in the media column right here.

ON RASHEED WALLACE:
Heinsohn: "The word before they got him, and we never really got to know him personally as an opposing player, is that he was temperamental and could be moody. But from what we've seen here, he's a terrific team player, he already has great chemistry with his teammates, which is hard to do in the preseason, and you know what, he's actually a pretty quiet guy. He sits away from the card game [on the team plane] and just watches movies and sort of keeps to himself."

Gorman: "I tell you, Rasheed has been a pleasant surprise. You always heard the horror stories when he was in other places when he was a younger player, but he's been a delightful surprise to us. He's quiet, but if you ask him about his kids, he's such a proud dad, and he'll talk with you about them forever. He's a much different guy off the court than his reputation would indicate. And you heard so much about his behavior on the court -- which isn't that new to us, we're used to the Antoines of the world -- but you wondered how that would go over here. But one thing I was pretty sure of: This is KG's team, and Rasheed would fall in line with that. They are old friends, KG is the dominant personality here, and Rasheed won't be a locker room problem with Kevin around."

ON KEVIN GARNETT'S HEALTH:
Gorman: "Coming in to camp, you hoped to see that old explosiveness back. But it takes some time after a prolonged injury. You have to get rid of that hesitance to really get back to 100 percent, and Kevin is certainly showing signs that he's getting back to everything he was in 2007 and last year before the injury."

ON THE REPLACEMENT REFEREES:
Heinsohn: "Well, obviously, they're not going to be as accomplished as the regular referees. You just have to hope they don't call 100 fouls a game. They can't call everything like a college game, because guys will start fouling out in about five minutes. Hey, it's a tough job to officiate in the pros. I do know that, believe it or not. [Laughs.] But the new guys . . . they're not going to see the little tricks, the little bumps and sneaky moves that veteran guys will use to bait them."

On whether he has sympathy for them:

"Well, I wouldn't quite put it that way." [Laughs]

ON THEIR APPROACH TO CALLING A GAME:
Gorman: "Tommy and I both have experience calling games at a national level, and in that situation, when you're working for a network, you find yourselves introducing the players over and over again, talking about the stars and probably being a little more basic or general than you would calling a game in a specific market. You have to treat both teams as if its the home team, and because of the audience, you're constantly introducing both teams and emphasizing storylines. We realized a long time ago, even back to when the games were on Prism [one of Comcast Sports New England's predecessors as the television home of the Celtics], that our audience was actually seeking us out to watch the Celtics, and from that, you realize the viewers and fans already know all they want and need to know about [Paul] Pierce and [Kevin] Garnett. At the national level, there are hours of prep work before a game, talking about players and storylines, and you almost had to justify the production meeting during the broadcast by using the information. But with this [calling the Celtics], we realize know one stumbles on to watching us, they're informed the moment they tune in. So there's a minimum amount of homework. If a story or angle seems applicable at the moment, we talk about it, but because our viewers are plugged in to the team when they tune in and because we're so comfortable with each other, in a way, we just sit down and see where the game takes us."

ON RAJON RONDO:
(The precocious point guard recently found himself in the midst of mini-controversy after some pointed but hardly harsh comments from coach Doc Rivers were misinterpreted by ESPN basketball writer Chad Ford, who tweeted: ‘‘Doc Rivers does ANOTHER hit job on Rajon Rondo. What the heck is going on in Boston?”)

Heinsohn: "[The perception that Rivers has an issue with Rondo is] ridiculous. Doc’s not knocking the kid, he’s an ex-point guard trying to get the best out of him. Rondo has terrific confidence, he’s 23 years old, he has Hall of Fame potential. So what if he doesn't have a 3-point shot. He has a terrific basketball mind. He's the best athlete on the team. Making a big deal [out of Rivers’s comments] is just talk-show stuff, something to flap about. Rondo’s the closest thing the Celtics have had since [Bob] Cousy. He’s a master of the offense, he's aggressive, he controls the pace. Without him, this team goes nowhere, all right?

"You write this: ‘Tommy says leave the kid alone!' "

Catching up on the headlines I missed while lumbering around sunny Acadia . . .

In a small sort of way, Nomar Garciaparra owes his huge, heartwarming ovation last night to the man who replaced him in Boston and started at shortstop for the Oakland A's last night.

If Orlando Cabrera had pulled a Lugo upon coming over to the Sox in the shocking three-way deal that sent Nomar to the Cubs at the 2004 trading deadline, Boston fans may be considerably more bitter -- and less forgiving -- than they are nowadays, after a pair of championships.

But Cabrera proved a perfect fit on the 2004 champs, a dependable shortstop with the knack for a clutch hit, and so Nomar's bitter transgressions during that season are more easily forgotten.

That's not to suggest he didn't deserve the "Welcome Back, Nomahhhh!" moment last night. While the five-year gap between his acrimonious departure -- and by the way, it seems to me neither side has yet been completely honest about what went wrong here -- probably helped restore some of the misty watercolors to our memories, the truth is rather simple: If you watched Nomar during his heyday with the Sox, you can't help but have warm memories about his time here.

During the late 1990s -- particularly '99, when the Red Sox reached the ALCS with a roster made up of Pedro, Nomar, and 23 role players and Dan Duquette reclamation projects -- he might have been the most versatile and dangerous hitter in the game. As rookie in '97, he hit 30 home runs, and his hustling style and quirky mannerisms spawned a generation of mimicking Little Leaguers. In 1998, he batted .323 with 35 homers. His entire '99 campaign -- when he batted .357 to win the first of his back-to-back batting titles -- felt like Dustin Pedroia's torrid streak last summer. It seemed as if Nomar concluded every single trip to the plate with a line drive. In 2000, he batted .372, and for a time we thought he might make a run at .400 -- he was batting .403 after the first game of a doubleheader on July 20 -- which only seemed appropriate given that Ted Williams was counted among his admirers.

There's no need to rehash the infamous SI cover, the wrist injury, or how it all went wrong -- plenty of ink and bandwidth has been spent on that the past five years. Nomar Garciaparra was a deserving New England icon for the better part of a decade. Last night, it was nice to see the player and the city acknowledge their mutual appreciation of the good times.

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Just a quickie, semi-coherent post on today's trade rumor du jour regarding Rajon Rondo.

I want Rondo and Ray Allen and the core of the NBA champions once-removed back next season to try to make it two Larry O'Brien trophies out of three, preferably at the Lakers' expense . . .

. . . and yet I am completely intrigued by the possibility of dealing the Celtics' starting backcourt to the Detroit Pistons for guards Rip Hamilton and Rodney Stuckey and forward Tayshaun Prince.

According to Adrian Wojnarowski's report on Yahoo! Sports today, the Pistons shot down the proposal without any discussion between front-office bosses Danny Ainge and Joe Dumars. And I suppose that's good. Because after spending a good part of the afternoon pondering the pros and cons of this, I can't make up my mind if I would want this to happen. Know what I mean?

There are very few Celtics players in my 30 years or so as a fan who I've enjoyed watching more than Rondo, at least when he's going well. You know his many attributes: Electric athlete, a true point guard's playmaking skills, a clever finisher, unusually adept rebounder for a guard.

He is one of those charismatic performers who pulls off some jaw-dropping play about every game that gets you, Mike, and Tommy fired up to watch the replay. I'd be bummed if some other franchise's fans got to watch Rondo grow into the prime of his career.

I don't mean to make the admirable Ray Allen the afterthought here. But with his contract coming off the books next season, it's not a surprise that the Celtics would at least throw the a into the water and see what's out there for a classy, clutch 34-year-old shooting guard. But upon first glance, it is a complete surprise that they might be willing to deal Rondo, whose immediate future here would seem to be as secure as anyone's on the roster.

That's not to suggest that Rondo is a flawless or finished product. His jump shot is a menace to rims everywhere, and Doc Rivers isn't the first coach to be frustrated by his attitude, which sometimes tilts toward pigheaded rather than precocious. So with further consideration, you bet I believe there is something to this, despite Ainge's non-denial denials today. I don't necessarily think Ainge is trying to deal Rondo -- but if the right, reasonable deal came along, he would have no qualms about sending the 23-year-old point guard elsewhere, even to an Eastern Conference rival such as Detroit.

It is easy to see how Ainge might have considered the Detroit proposal "the right deal" from a basketball sense. Nobody in the league is better at coming off screens and burying mid-range jumpers than Hamilton, and he gives it his best effort on the defensive end as well. It's debatable whether Stuckey is a true point guard, but his talent is indisputable -- he averaged more than 15 points and 5 assists per game in his second NBA season, and at worst he'd be an extremely capable combo guard. The lanky, versatile Prince would give the Celtics the true sixth man they lacked a year ago. Bringing in those three high-quality players in exchange for Rondo and Allen would be daring, but it also could well prove to be a stroke of genius on Ainge's part come next June.

Then again, keeping the starting five in place that won last June may be the shrewdest mode of operation. I'd love to know what Ainge's ideal outcome -- within reason -- would be in terms of transactions this offseason.

Guess we'll just have to keep wondering if and until one of these rumors comes to life.

Took a night off from sports last night. (Well, to be precise, the "night off" began after Tim Wakefield's game-altering pitch to Mike Napoli, but before it cleared the wall in center field for a game-changing three-run homer. Totally saw that one coming.)

Finally watched "Gone Baby Gone" instead. A masterpiece for Ben Affleck (did I just write that?), wholly superior to the "The Departed" . . . and absolutely crushing if you are a parent or Morgan Freeman. Pretty sure I'll never watch it again. And I especially wished I'd stuck with the Sox after realizing I'd missed Daniel Bard's debut.

Oh, well. I'm not missing a sporting thing tonight, what with yet another Bruins/Celtics simultaneous postseason doubleheader. As a matter of fact, I've already drawn up a short list of things I'm hoping to see. Such as . . .

. . . J.J. Redick continuing to shoot like he's still at Duke and a Final Four berth is on the line.

. . . Dwight Howard getting his wish and getting the ball in the clutch. I'm all for a 57 percent free-throw shooter with no offensive game to speak of outside of six feet demanding the rock.

. . . Perk, doing his usual dirty work. Gotta write a full column about him one of those days. He's beast, you know.

. . . Dick Bavetta forgetting which team is playing at home.

. . . Stan Van Gundy's shrill, cliche-ridden, completely uninspired instructions during a timeout.

. . . The "We just have to listen to this guy for two more games, tops" looks on the faces of the Magic players.

. . . More of that dipstick Skip To My Lou. Less of Courtney Lee, who could be the Rodney Stuckey of this series if Van Hedgehog would let him.

. . . Rajon Rondo shaking off his strange recent lethargy and making the Magic pay for daring him to shoot.

. . . The Truth and Shuttlesworth on fire in the same game for once.

. . . Big Baby driving up his price even more with a 20/10 performance. You can bet the Magic fans on the sidelines will be aware of his whereabouts at all times tonight.

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I don't know whether that was the best professional basketball game I have ever seen, but I'll tell you this: Sixteen hours after the final buzzer, I still can't come up with one even close.

What. An. Epic. There were enough plot twists and peaks and valleys, Brad Miller chest-thumps and Rajon Rondo Hinrich-slaps, Ray Allen "Did he really just do that?" swishes and Tony Allen "Did he really just do that?" mishaps in 63 minutes last night to fill the highlight (or lowlight) reel of an entire seven-game series.

Naturally, in a 128-127 triple-overtime marathon/heavyweight bout, there were more than a few memorable individual performances. Let's flash back to a few . . .

Ray Allen: He might be the only player ever to score 51 points while sometimes becoming an afterthought in his team's offense along the way. My biggest frustration from last night's game -- other than every time Tony Allen arrived at the scorer's table -- was that the Celtics didn't make every effort to get Sugar Ray a touch on every single possession. I don't care if three Bulls were draped on him. You know why? He was so hot, so in the zone, that it wouldn't have mattered which Bulls -- or how many -- were guarding him. Yet I don't think he took a shot in the final two minutes of regulation, and it seemed like every time the Celtics got a lead of more than a point or two, they forgot about him. From the fourth quarter on, it felt like every shot he took came in a moment of desperation -- with the Celtics down two, or three, with the game hanging in the balance -- and more often than not, he'd drill it with something straight out of Larry Bird's big-game repertoire. It was the defining performance of Allen's Hall of Fame career, it should forever silence the nitwits who think he still has something to prove here, and yet we're left with one lingering lament: If only his coach and teammates had given him a shot to do just a little bit more.

Joakim Noah: He's a preening, annoying, look-at-me goofball. He shoots like he's playing tetherball with Napoleon Dynamite. High def does him no favors. And man, don't I wish the Celtics had someone just like him. He never stops hustling, never stops clawing for rebounds and bounding into passing lanes, and his world-class athletic genes were on display when he outran Paul Pierce for three quarters of the court for his game-changing dunk. Yes, he's a pest. Yes, he makes a convenient villain. Yes, I'm pretty sure they're flat-out lying when they tell us him mom was a Swedish model. So where can we get one just like him?

Paul Pierce: He just looks tired. Exhausted, actually. The combination of trying chase the spry young Bulls around on defense while having to carry his usual heavy offensive burden on the other end seems to be weighing on No. 34, and it was never more noticeable than a second or two before he made the fatal turnover and foul in the third overtime. Pierce had the ball at the foul line extended, near the 3-point line. To his left, the lane was wide-open. You saw it. He saw it. The situation called for one of his trademark slashing drives, probably with some contact at the end, maybe a layup plus one. He began to make his move . . . and nothing. It was like his legs refused to cooperate. The defense closed in and cutoff the lane, he had no Plan B, and the next thing you know he was making Noah into a temporary folk hero in Chicago. It was a terrible turnover, but it was not an inexcusable one. Even warriors get worn out sometimes.

John Salmons: What more can you say? He out-Pierced Pierce, slashing to the hoop pretty much at will, even with a full hour's worth of playing time. Who knew when it happened that the Bulls' trade of space-shot Drew Gooden and Andres Nocioni to the Kings for Salmons and Brad Miller in February -- which was essentially a Chicago salary dump -- could conceivably play a major role in ending the Celtics' championship reign? (By the way, in that link above, it's noted that the T-Wolves tried to convince the Bulls into trading Kirk Hinrich in another salary dump. How much do you wish that had happened right now?)

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Putting aside any rooting interest for a moment -- I know, not the easiest thing to do in the hours before the fifth game of an unexpectedly grueling playoff series -- let me just reiterate what is plainly obvious to any genuine hoops junkies who have been paying attention to this Bulls-Celtics playoff showdown:

Man, this has been one wildly enjoyable series.

In fact, purely from the perspective of someone who savors watching two evenly matched but entirely dissimilar basketball teams punch and counter-punch each other possession after possession, I wouldn't be devastated if this series goes seven games. And I say that knowing full well that the Celtics need all the rest they can get in their noble (and most likely ill-fated) attempt to defend their title. I'm enjoying this, and I'm not sure I want it to end before it has to.

Consider what we've seen so far, through just four games: rookie Derrick Rose's arrival as a star in Game 1, the Ray Allen-Ben Gordon epic shootout in Game 2 . . . Rajon Rondo's emergence as the Celtics' most indispensable player while averaging a triple-double in the series . . . a lengthy series of what-ifs (Pierce's missed free throw in Game 1, Rondo's rock of a jumper at the end of the first overtime in Game 4) that make you mentally replay the game long after the final buzzer . . . and of course, the highlight reel's worth of plot twists and crucial plays in the double-overtime grind of Game 4. (That game belongs on an endless loop on ESPN Classic. You know, if it showed something other than bowling and poker reruns.)

As for tonight's pivotal Game 5 (you can't mention a Game 5 without "pivotal" preceding it -- unwritten rule), I'm going to stay away from my usual overly hopeful proclamations. You know, these sorts of things:

Paul Pierce is gonna drop 40 tonight. Maybe 45. Why? Because he is The Truth, that's why!

Rajon Rondo? Automatic quintuple-double. Put it in the books now!

Mark my words: Tonight's the night Mikki Moore is on the court for more than 30 seconds without completing the silly foul/failure to box out/unforced turnover trifecta!

No, for once we'll wisely hold off on the hyperbole here. (Especially on that last one.) Instead, I'm focusing on the smaller things, sweating the details, pondering the logical ways the defending champion Celtics can prevail in this basketball game tonight.

Mostly, it's stuff that's as fundamental as Red on Roundball. They need to play consistent, unyielding, inspired defense, not only against the dead-eye Gordon on the perimeter (assuming he plays, and I am, despite his claim that he needs a "miracle"), but on the interior as well, where Kevin Garnett's absence is lamented with every late rotation by the Celtics' big men and every easy put-back by the likes of Joakim Noah and Tyrus Thomas. If they play as well defensively as they are capable of -- even sans KG -- they will return to Chicago up a game. It's that simple.

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Our first thoughts upon receiving our daily dose of discouraging Celtics injury news were not about the team this time, but the person.

Poor Leon Powe. The number of lucky breaks the Celtics' tough and tireless backup forward has had through the years is right there on his jersey -- 0.

All he seems to get are cruel twists. The latest: a torn ACL and meniscus in his left knee, suffered in the second quarter of the Celtics' 118-115 victory over the Chicago Bulls Monday night. He's out for the rest of the playoffs, and perhaps beyond.

We'll second the sentiments of coach Doc Rivers here: It's not fair that this happened to someone who's done "everything right." It's just not.

You know his story. Powe faced so much hardship and tragedy early in his life -- including a fire that destroyed his family's home and a subsequent, extended stretch of homelessness -- that it sounds like the script for one tear-jerker of a movie.

Such misfortune could have easily destroyed his spirit, yet instead Powe grew up to be a likable, easygoing man with a relentless work ethic. The Celtics have their share of admirable people on their roster, but none more so than Powe. In this story, you root for the happy ending.

No, Doc, stuff like this isn't supposed to happen to guys like Powe -- and yet this is the third time he's been felled by a severe injury to his left knee. After his junior season in high school, as he was establishing himself as one of the elite prep players in the country, he blew out the knee, requiring reconstructive surgery.

Most of the major hoops programs backed off, and he landed at the University of California, where he promptly led the Pac-10 in rebounding and was named the conference's Freshman of the Year. But the knee still wasn't quite right, and further surgery -- including a bone graft -- cost him his entire sophomore season.

No problem -- he bounced back with a sensational redshirt sophomore season, averaging 20.5 points and 10.1 rebounds per game, the first player to lead the conference in both categories in the same season. Still, after declaring early for the 2006 NBA Draft, he lasted until the 49th pick in large part because of lingering concerns about his knee.

And now, after establishing himself as a solid, dependable pro, he's dealt this. Another severe knee injury, and another poorly timed one, for Powe is set to become a free agent after the season's end. Some guys have all the rotten luck.

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Firing up a few quick (and most likely erratic) shots about the Celtics before the shot clock expires . . .

1. Maybe I'm delusional. Maybe I'm in denial. Maybe I didn't do the proper digging. But I simply do not believe we have seen the last of Kevin Garnett this season. Oh, he'll miss the Bulls' series for sure -- I buy that. But say the Celtics end up going to a seventh game in the second round against Orlando. There is absolutely no way, short of amputation, that they will be able to keep him out of uniform on that night. I suppose there's a chance the injury is much worse than the Celtics have let on and that they've known this fate for some time now, but I don't believe that to be the case -- I believe the injury is more of a chronic, wear-and-tear-induced nuisance than anything severe. If the Celtics can hang around long enough, we will see No. 5 again before the Larry O'Brien Trophy has a home.

2. One reason I'm skeptical (or whatever you want to call it) regarding Garnett's status: The Celtics have been ridiculously scattershot with their injury reports and player status updates this season, and that doesn't merely apply to Garnett, who has seemingly been day to day since March. Remember when Tony Allen was done for the season? I'm pretty sure he's back -- I saw him dribble the ball off his forehead just the other night. (Trademark move.) Remember when Leon Powe was done for the regular season? Pretty sure I saw him dropping 18 points on a statue of Darius Songaila last night. It's not intentional, I'm sure, but the Celtics' injury report is so unbelievable, I'm beginning to wonder if Bill Belichick is a consultant.

3. I think part of the problem is that it is Doc Rivers's nature to be candid and agreeable, even when he can't actually offer any definitive news. He always hedges his bets. At various points in the past few days he has said Garnett looked great, would already be playing if the playoffs were underway, won't play in the Bulls' series, and is done for the year. It's pretty tough to know what to believe at this point, especially when those making the State of the Team addresses have a story that is perpetually changing.

4. Bossman Wyc suggested the club will ask Garnett to sit on the bench during games, and I suppose there is some value to having him doing so, though having him offering advice to Moore is akin to Ted Williams telling Larry Biittner to go up there and rip one in the gap. But if he's as intense a bystander during games as he's said to be, I can't wait to see what he might have in store for the Joey Crawfords, Bennett Salvatores, and Steve Javies. Someone might want to get a taser just in case. Hey, but at least the Celtics might finally start getting some calls.

5. The key to the show going forward: Rajon Rondo. If he consistently plays his best at both ends while reminding Derrick Rose that he's a playoff novice, as far as I'm concerned, the Celtics will still have one version of a Big Three.

6. Another aspect of the Celtics that those who will race to write them off are underestimating: Ray Allen's toughness. That book is too often judged by it's cover -- with his trademark grace and never-let-'em-see-you-sweat game, it's easy to perceive him as soft, or at least all finesse. But he shows up in the biggest moments, takes no you-know-what from anyone, and in his own way is as competitive as anyone on the team. I expect him to have a monster postseason.

7. And he gets bonus points if he gets in a shot on the relentlessly annoying Joakim Noah similar to the one that turned Anderson Varajao into a falsetto.

8. Of course it stinks that Garnett is hurt, but it must be noted that the Celts went 17-7 in his absence, and his replacements acquitted themselves very well, at least at the offensive end. Leon Powe, Glen Davis, Moore (who's good for a few rebounds and six fouls at the least), and Perk is not a bad rotation at the 4-5 positions, and Doc always has done a pretty good job in finding favorable matchups for each them, particularly Powe and Big Baby.

9. Paul Pierce will tell us that he's crushed for his teammate and his team that Garnett is out, and The Truth will be telling the truth. If anyone appreciates how fleeting a chance at a championship can be, it's the Celtic who was here for all the bad times.

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As promised and guaranteed, Nos. 11-34 of the greatest moments from this championship era in Boston sports. For items 1-10, click right here:

11. Paul Pierce returning to the court moments after suffering what looked like a serious knee injury, Game 1 of the NBA Finals, June 5, 2008: Pierce is an LA kid -- he grew up in Inglewood -- and his Willis Reed-like return showed he has at least a little bit of Hollywood in him. An added bonus: His rapid return to health infuriated Laker fans.

12. A-Rod slapping the ball from Bronson Arroyo, Game 6 of the ALCS, Oct. 19, 2004 : When the umpires overturned their original safe call, it was one more sign that the Sox' luck had finally changed. As for A-Rod's transparent Who me? act, it was our first clear indication that he was one of sports' preeminent weasels.

13. Papi’s 14th-inning single to win Game 5 of the ALCS, Oct. 17, 2004: Of all the improbable things that happened that postseason, rallying against Rivera in consecutive games must be at the top of the list.

14. Ray Allen juking the Lakers' annoying Sasha Vujacic out of his Vujajock, Game 4 of the NBA Finals, June 12, 2008: Again with the symbolism. Allen's driving layup through the lackadaisical Lakers' defense was the definitive sequence as the Celtics completed a rally from a 24-point hole to take a 3-1 lead in the series. After that, the Lakers were broken, and banner No. 17 was a mere formality.

15. Vinatieri’s 23-yard field goal to win the Snow Bowl, Jan. 7, 2001: Think it was chip shot? You try kicking a field goal in a snow globe.

16. Walt Coleman invokes the Tuck Rule, Jan. 19, 2002: Because without his correct interpretation of a silly and contrived rule, all that came afterward wouldn't have been possible, and Al Davis might still be sane.

17. Papi’s homer in first inning of Game 7 of the ALCS, Oct. 20, 2004: Coming immediately after Johnny Damon was cut down at the plate, it staked the Sox to a 2-0 lead and delivered this message: Not only would they not go quietly, but this time, the Sox had no intention of going at all.

18. Troy Brown’s 55-yard punt return for a touchdown versus the Steelers, AFC Championship game, Jan. 27, 2002: As ol' No. 80 ran the final few steps to toward the end zone, a group of desperate Steelers defenders fell like dominoes behind him. Just a great visual.

19. Papi’s 10th-inning walkoff homer to complete an ALDS sweep of the Angels, Oct. 8, 2004: Still one of my favorite Globe sports headlines of all time: David, Goliath.

20. J.D. Drew's first-inning grand slam off Cleveland co-ace Fausto Carmona, Game 6 of the ALCS, Oct. 20, 2007: Drew may carry himself like baseball is a job rather than a passion, but say this for the man: He has a flair for the dramatic in the postseason.

21. Manny Ramirez's walkoff homer off K-Rod, Game 2 of the ALDS, Oct. 5, 2007: Do me a favor: Let me know when it lands, will you?

22. Manny’s three-run homer off of Oakland ace Barry Zito, Game 5 of the ALDS, Oct. 6, 2003: Funny how those who claim Manny never hit clutch home runs always conveniently forget this moment, when Zito was at the peak of his powers.

23. Brown recovering a blocked field goal and lateraling to Antwan Harris, who took it 45 yards for a touchdown, AFC Championship Game, Jan. 27, 2002: A typically heady play by one of the smartest players to ever wear the Patriots jersey. You and I had no idea the obscure Harris could run like that. Good thing Brown did.

24. Pokey Reese fields Ruben Sierra's grounder and throws to first to record the final out of Game 7 of the ALCS, Oct. 20, 2004: Because it had finally happened -- in the most delicious way possible -- and now we would get the reward: Watching the Red Sox celebrate on the Yankees' turf.

25. Mark Bellhorn’s three-run homer in Game 6 of the ALCS, Oct. 19, 2004: According to our accounting, this is the first time in history a controversial call at Yankees Stadium went the Red Sox' way . . . but it wasn't the only one in this game.

26. Bellhorn’s game-winning homer in Game 1 of the World Series, Oct. 23, 200:Shhh. If you listen closely, you can still hear it rattling off Pesky’s Pole.

27. Vinatieri’s 46-yard winning field goal against the Titans, AFC Divisional playoff, Jan. 10, 2004: When the temperature was almost as cold as the ice water in Vinatieri's veins.

28. Dustin Pedroia’s tone-setting homer off Rockies lefty Jeff Francis in Game 1 of the World Series, Oct. 24, 2007: A few days later, when a security guard didn't recognize Pedroia as he was trying to enter the ballpark, the Sox' rookie second baseman replied in his usual comically brash fashion: "Ask Jeff Francis who I am."

29. Derek Lowe’s crotch chop, Game 5 of the ALDS, Oct. 6, 2003: After whiffing Adam Melhuse and Terrence Long with a pair of the nastiest sinkers he ever threw, after stranding three runners to save the game and the Red Sox' season, only Miguel Tejada could blame the flighty Lowe celebrated a little too, um, graphically. Hey, you'd be excited too if your team had just overcome an 0-2 deficit.

30. Jed Lowrie’s ninth-inning RBI single to win Game 4 and defeat the Angels in the ALDS, Oct. 6, 2008: Wait -- a playoff-series-winning hit is 30th on the list? You betcha. Again: That’s how good we’ve had it, son.

31. Tom Brady hits Troy Brown for to set up winning kick in Super Bowl XXXVI, Feb. 3, 2002: Brady threw for just 145 yards in the game, but twenty-three of them came on perfectly executed crossing route to his favorite target, the biggest gainer of the nine-play, 53-yard drive that set up Vinatieri's winning 3-pointer.

32. Papi’s winning two-run double in Game 4 of the ALDS, Oct. 5, 2003: Coincidentally, Papi’s first huge postseason moment -- which came with two outs in the eighth -- came off future Sox postseason super hero Keith Foulke, then of the A’s.

33. Coco Crisp’s epic 10-pitch at-bat in Game 5 of the 2008 ALCS, Oct. 16, 2008: The Sox were down 7-0 with two outs in the seventh inning. With two outs in the eighth, Crisp had his defining moment with the Sox, singling in the tying run to tie it at 7-7. Couldn't have been happier for him, either.

34. Kevin Garnett’s declaration that ‘‘Anything is possibbuuuulllllll!!!, June 17, 2008: Because, as we’ve learned time and again this decade, it is the absolute truth.

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I nearly fell out of my La-Z-Boy laughing after the following exchange between Mike Gorman and Tommy Heinsohn during the Celtics' game the other night. (In fact, I even Twittered this. Still not sure what that means.)

Gorman, after an Eddie House 3-ball: "Who is the Celtics all-time leader in 3-point percentage?"

Heinsohn, droll as can be: "Not Antoine."

Heinsohn's pitch-perfect, whiskey-dry reply reminded me of a couple of things:

• Tommy still has his fastball after all these years, bless his sarcastic soul.
• Man, Antoine really did dent a lot of rims in his time here. I liked him, but I will never miss him.
• And, most notably for today's purposes: Our favorite New England sports teams all have outstanding broadcasting crews, both on television and radio.

It's true. Gorman and Heinsohn. Gil and Gino. RemDawg and Orsillo. They're all good. After giving this a little more consideration -- and checking in with some Bruins-savvy cohorts -- I even ranked them, best to worst, with the caveat that I enjoy the duo rated last nearly as much as the one in the top spot. Hey, we're lucky that way. There are no more Glenn Geffners here.

As always, I expect you will tell me where I was right or wrong in the comments section . . .

1. Heinsohn and Gorman, Celtics television: As good as it gets, locally, nationally, anywhere. Gorman and Heinsohn have been calling Celtics games together since 1981 (remember "SportsChannel New England"?), and their comfort with each other is obvious. Gorman isn't a relentless self-promoter like so many others in his line of work, so he doesn't always get his due in terms of media appreciation. But thinking Celtics fans sure as heck respect and appreciate him. He calls a game smoothly, has a short list of enjoyable but not overused catchphrases ("Allen for 3 . . . Got it!"), sets up Tommy like a savvy point guard . . . oh, and he also handles the crucial task of preventing Heinsohn from mauling Kenny Mauer or the Enemy Zebra of the Game. As for Tommy, while his constant harping on the refs can be a distraction, his knowledge of the game is unsurpassed and he doesn't even consider tempering his opinions. He's a local treasure, and you know what? So is Gorman. (Note: We also like Donny Marshall, who handles the road games in place of Heinsohn. But no one really replaces Tommy.)

2. Joe Castiglione and Dave O'Brien, Red Sox radio: Joe Castig, a member of the Red Sox radio team since 1983 (the Ralph Houk era), has become the voice of summer in New England, particularly to the generation of fans too young to remember Ken Coleman or Ned Martin. While he lacks the classic radio pipes -- dogs in particular are not big fans of his work -- he has a kind, jovial manner and clearly loves the Sox, to the point that his annoyance is barely disguised in his voice when things are not going well on the field. After all these years, he's as comfortable as your favorite faded Sox cap. And O'Brien's the ultimate pro. He has a polished voice -- a nice contrast to Castiglione's --a good feel for the pace of the game, doesn't start jumbling his words incoherently in the biggest moments (WAY BACK!!), and unlike his most recent predecessor, the horrific Geffner, has apparently gone through puberty. He's the partner we wished Castig had all those years.

3. Don Orsillo and Jerry Remy, Red Sox television: There's been some backlash against the ubiquitous RemDawg in recent years, but I thought he toned down the hucksterism last year and got back to doing what he does as well as analyst -- telling you why something will happen, not just why something already happened. He's still about as good as it gets. As for Orsillo, he's pleasant, and yes, I realize that's a lukewarm compliment. He's come a long way since he replaced sound-alike Sean McDonough in voice only before the 2001 season, but the first time he says something remotely critical about the Sox management or a player will be the first. (Whenever Tim Wakefield gives up, say, seven runs in 2 1/3 hideous innings, Orsillo never fails to call it a "tough outing." Drives me nuts.) That said, spend an hour or so jumping around to various teams' broadcasts on the the MLB.com package, and I guarantee you'll appreciate what we have in Remy and Orsillo pretty fast.

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Chasing the headlines, and all the usual minutiae as well . . .

Like the majority of Celtics fans, I imagine, I have mixed feelings about the impending addition of that skilled carcinogen, Stephon Marbury.

From a basketball standpoint, I've talked myself into at least being intrigued by it, primarily because this is the kind of low-risk, high-reward acquisition that Red Auerbach wouldn't hesitate to pull off. Marbury -- assuming his skills haven't eroded too much after more than a year since his last NBA game -- could be a terrific fit as a combo guard coming off the bench for 15-20 minutes per night. His presence will take the ball out of Eddie House's hands and allow him to play his natural position at two-guard. And Marbury's shoot-first tendencies might not be such a bad thing when he's on the court with a second unit that sometimes has a hard time generating offense.

His presence should be no threat to Rajon Rondo's psyche, either -- this is his team now, he knows it, and should he need a reminder, Doc Rivers is perceptive enough to remind his young point guard of as much before Marbury rolls into town.

But what nags at me is this: Even though Marbury could make a difference in whether or not the Celtics repeat as champions, I can't shake the feeling that he does not deserve to be part of such a selfless, admirable team. He's been a first-team All-Malcontent selection annually, and I'm skeptical that he has a clue how fortunate he is to have this opportunity.

Ultimately, the Celtics do have to take a shot here, because if Marbury plays up to his ability and behaves like somewhat of an adult, sure, he could be a tremendous asset. If he doesn't realize what's at stake and plays his Starbury-First game, they can simply send him back to whatever planet he came from. But should he even consider pulling his chaotic act here, I hope Kevin Garnett slaps that tattoo right off his head.

* * *

While poking around baseball-reference.com the other day (okay, every day), it dawned on me that there was a chance Red Sox manager Terry Francona had actually batted against John Smoltz during his playing days.

After all, Francona's final big-league season was 1990, while Smoltz arrived for good with the Braves in '88. Much to this nerdling's disappointment, however, their paths never crossed -- Francona wrapped up his big league career with Milwaukee and Cleveland in the AL, so he never had a chance to take some hacks against Smoltz in the days before interleague play.

But . . . there are two active major league pitchers who faced Tito.

So tell me who they are already, will ya?

* * *

Garret Anderson, the longtime Angel who signed a one-year deal with the Atlanta Braves earlier this week, is your classic example of an athlete who was called underrated for so long that he became overrated -- vastly so, in Anderson's case.

Yes, he did have a pretty decent stretch of productive seasons, culminating with a 131 adjusted OPS in 2003. But he's never been anything more than an adequate left fielder, his career high in walks is 38 (in what is regarded as his best season, his 35-homer, 117-RBI campaign in 2000, he had a puny .307 on-base percentage), and his lifetime OPS+ is 105, slightly above average.

Just for the sport of it, here are a few other adjusted OPS numbers by some of his peers:

Troy O'Leary: 97
Trot Nixon: 112
Raul Ibanez: 113
Kevin Millar: 112
Jacque Jones: 98
Ruben Sierra: 105
Carl Everett: 107

* * *

Since it's encouraged in some circles to speculate that slugger-in-purgatory Manny Ramirez used steroids -- even though there is nothing about his remarkably consistent track record and not a single sinister rumor or dubious association indicating that he has -- I figure I might as well dig up a piece of evidence, anecdotal though it may be, that suggests clean living on Manny's part. This is from a story written by Gordon Edes in the March 20, 2005 editions of the Globe:

Orlando Cabrera laughed at the notion that Manny Ramirez ever experimented with steroids. "My brother [Jolbert] played with Manny in Cleveland," he said. "And Manny hated needles. Every spring, when they took their physicals, Manny would take off, and four, five guys would chase him down. He just hated needles. There's no way he would have ever juiced himself. He just worked hard. When we go on the road, Manny would be out of his room at 8 o'clock, going to the gym. And he practiced hard. He went out to Fenway Park many times to learn how to play the Wall, and he never -- never -- skipped going to the cage."

Does that mean Manny's always been clean? Well, hell, of course not -- we simply do not know about anyone for sure. (Though Jason Tyner would be a surprise.) But it's closer to proof that he lived righteously than any argument I've heard from the other side.

* * *

Obviously, the move was motivated by sentiment and desperation to appease the public more than baseball matters. Still, I understand why fans are thrilled Ken Griffey Jr. is back with the Mariners. It just seems right, you know?

As someone who is Griffey's age -- he's a day younger than me -- I've always found the arc of his career compelling. He arrived in 1989 as a ridiculously gifted 19-year-old with an electric smile and a habit of hitting picturesque home runs, making highlight-reel catches, and busting his old man's chops.

He grew up to become perhaps the elite player of his generation -- and certainly the most popular, at least at his peak -- but as injuries and time robbed him of some of his talent, he became more introverted, and the smile didn't come so often.

Or maybe it was just that he matured. As Jeff Pearlman wrote in this smart tribute a few days ago, Griffey could be remarkably thoughtful, particularly for a professional athlete of his accomplishments. (News flash: Superstars don't always have the best perspective on the rest of mankind.)

Griffey aged like a normal person, suffering through the usual aches in his 30s while so many of his peers found some mysterious fountain of youth. And with that came an interesting irony: Griffey's legacy might actually be greater than it would have been had he remained healthy and broken all the records that now belong the someone else, for the perception (and hopefully the reality) is that he was one of the few idols from his era who played the game without chemical assistance.

Griffey's no longer "The Kid" anymore -- he's 39 now and has been a big leaguer for more than half his life -- but it sure is good to still have him around. Besides, as long as he's a Mariner, back where it all began, then I can't be that ancient.

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If you missed it while enjoying your holiday festivities, this week's OT column is right here. As a bonus, I'm posting here a few of my Boston sports predictions for 2009 that didn't make the cut.

(Yep. I wrote too long. Again. But by only 500 words this time. That's what you call a craftsman's discipline, baby.)

Anyway, I'll be back with an original column Monday -- at last, one in which the names "Teixeira" and "Boras" will not be mentioned. Until then, here are few deleted scenes that left out of the OT original . . .

Feb. 10: With “Justice” written on one fist and “For Cam” on the other, the Bruins’ Milan Lucic pummels 43-year-old Sharks forward Claude Lemieux so brutally that the longtime villain attempts to announce his re-retirement while cowering on the ice. Neely proudly nods his approval from management’s box, while NESN’s Mike Milbury chucks a shoe in Lemieux’s direction for old time’s sake.

May 23: Assuming it’s no different than taking a mid-game leak inside the Green Monster, Manny Ramirez urinates on the sacred monuments beyond the left field wall at Yankee Stadium during the seventh inning of a 21-3 loss to the Phillies. The entire city of New York is aghast. The ghost of Babe Ruth, however, finds it hilarious.

June 10: The Celtics deliver the ultimate indignity to the Lakers in Game 3 of the NBA Finals when Eddie House’s grade-school-aged son, Jalen, blows past Sasha Vujacic for a reverse layup and a foul with 1:22 remaining, giving the Celtics a 133-82 lead. Vujacic retreats to the LA bench, slaps a folding chair, shakes his hand in agony, and immediately bursts into tears. Little House chest bumps his proud pop, then says: “Dad, you told me there was no crying in basketball.”

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. . . while desperately hoping the power has been restored by the time I get home. I would have made a lousy pilgrim . . .

I understand why Danny Ainge might have cursory interest in Stephon Marbury -- he's mimicking the Red Auerbach philosophy that if you bring add a talented malcontent to a winning team with a strong and established group of leaders, he will have no choice but to get in line and behave or get lost. And it always was fun when Red would bring in perceived headcases and troublemakers -- Robert Parish and Dennis Johnson among them -- and they would often become vital contributors for the Celtics. But I think Marbury is a different case -- he's the ultimate me-first player, always has been, and always will be, and I don't think anything is going to change him at this point, including a chance to salvage his career with an outstanding team. Hell, I doubt he even believes his career needs salvaging. He's incurable. I would, however, be curious to find out what the "brain doctor" Ainge consults would make of Marbury. I suspect he would report there was no activity whatsoever.

* * *

While cursing Buffalo's "Dumb and Dumber" duo of Dick Jauron and J.P. Losman Sunday, I realized that we don't have a Patriots Enemies List here at TATB like the one we periodically update during baseball season for the Sox. So, with Jauron and Losman as members of our inaugural class of nitwits and villains, here are a couple of other names off the top of my head that should join them:

Ryan Clark: The hit on Welker might not have been illegal, but it was damn sure dirty.

Brett Favre: Consider it a Lifetime Achievement Award.

Channing Crowder: He's like Joey Porter's mouthier, less talented brother, which, in the case of the former, is saying something.

Eric Mangini: King rat.

ESPN: Every last one of 'em but Jaws.

Ty Law: For taking the Jets' dirty money.

Plaxico Burress For not shooting himself in the leg before the Super Bowl.

Bernard Pollard: Imagine how we'd loathe him if Matt Cassel hadn't played so well.

I know there's some obvious enemies I'm missing, so feel free to chime in with your own.

* * *

Sure, he's so brittle that it's been suggested he change his last name to Pavano -- okay, you got me, I just made that up -- but I still think there's a very good chance that former Brewer Ben Sheets could end up being the steal of this year's free agent pitching class. He has the stuff of a legitimate ace -- when he's right, his breaking ball is absolutely untouchable -- and he's apparently a hellacious competitor, which is something not often said about the pitcher most similar to Sheets statistically, according to baseball-reference.com: the ridiculously overpaid A.J. Burnett. I hope the Red Sox have done their due diligence with the 30-year-old righthander, because if the price is reasonable, I have no doubt that he's a risk worth taking. (In a related note, check out Burnett's top three similarity scores: Juan Guzman, Sheets, Ben McDonald. Yikes. Somewhere, Brian Cashman just sucker-punched himself, then slapped himself in the face to emphasize the point. Oh, yes, the meltdown is going to be fun.)

* * *

While it was a typically disingenuous move by the Red Sox' marketing wizards -- I'm pretty sure Mike Dee would go on camera to tell us the fans just love them even as an angry mob wearing classic Sox caps pillaged Fenway in the background -- I've got no problem with the uniform tweaks. Then again, I grew up in an era when they wore this, so anything would look classy by comparison.

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The temperature is rising on the baseball hot stove, but the Red Sox aren't the only Boston sports team that could -- or should -- be making a significant addition or two soon. Here's a quick look at various players whose names we might be seeing in the transactions in the coming weeks:

Antonio McDyess: The likable veteran forward, who played extremely well at times against the Celtics in the Eastern Conference finals last spring -- he scored 21 points in Game 4 -- is apparently in the process of negotiating a buyout with the Nuggets after he was included in the Iverson/Billups swap for salary reasons. The 34-year-old would be a perfect fit off the bench for these Celtics, a more athletic and versatile version of P.J. Brown, and he does have a history with Celtics boss Danny Ainge, who was his coach with the Suns in 1997-98 and is still an unabashed admirer. That said, McDyess in green is probably wishful thinking. There's quite a bit of informed speculation coming from the Detroit papers that he'll end up back with the Pistons 30 days from now after the Gary Payton Rule is no longer in effect. Here's hoping Ainge is looking at that as his window to make a relentless sales pitch.

Javier Vazquez: It would be cool to have him here, if only as a living monument to Game 7 of the 2004 ALCS, but even with his obvious ability, he's probably not an ideal match for the Red Sox seeing how he basically got called gutless by his manager, then went out and proved him right. I suppose there are worse booby prizes the Red Sox could get in return for Julio Lugo, though. (See: Willis, Dontrelle.)

Mark Teixeira: Yeah, I know, you haven't heard his name enough lately. But here's the thing: My biggest worry at the moment regarding the 2009 Red Sox -- wait, make that my second biggest worry, after the nightmare scenario of Scott Boras brainwashing Theo Epstein into giving the ghost of Jason Varitek a multi-year contract -- is that Big Papi struggles again with injuries and ineffectiveness, and Mike Lowell can't return to form after hip surgery, thus leaving the Red Sox with a very suspect middle of the order. I think the Red Sox have to fill some suitcases full of cash and make a serious and sincere run at Teixeira, and I think they will. The problem, as Tony Mazz wrote today, is that the 28-year-old switch-hitter is so coveted and has timed his free agency so fortuitously that it's almost the perfect storm to make him the next $200 million player. And I don't see the Red Sox paying him anything approaching that figure (heretofore known as Steinbrenner Money), no matter how much they covet him.

Nick Swisher: I wouldn't be surprised if he's one of the Red Sox' fallback plans if they lose the Teixeira sweepstakes. He's in his prime (28), he fits the organizational philosophy of driving up pitch counts (he's averaged 93 walks over the past three seasons), and it's a decent buy-low opportunity. Of course, there's a reason he's available -- he batted just .219 last season, a point lower than the Varitek, and he's just a .244 hitter in his four-year career. Ultimately, it's a matter of Chicago's asking price and whether Theo Epstein believes his potential is greater than the risk. I do think the Sox would take him for Lugo and some minor-league spare parts in a heartbeat, though.

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I'm pretty sure this constitutes an action shot for the Kitester.

Anyway, the point today is not to belittle yet another oversized white stiff -- you know, being one myself and all -- but just to make a quick and almost sincere apology for the shortage of posts this week. I've been working on something longer, so I really haven't had much time to crank out much else, other than this "OT" column and the underwhelming Celtics post from a few days ago. But as always, thanks for checking in and commenting, and we'll aim to step up the production next week.

-- TATB Management

. . . half-formed thoughts on your defending NBA champion Celtics. We're going to assume you understand the significance of the number:

1. He's played a full season plus a game as a member of the green, he's won a championship here, set the tone of intensity for the franchise, and become a beloved and admired present-day icon of Boston sports, just a step on the pedestal below David Ortiz and Tom Brady . . . and yet I still have a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that Kevin Garnett is a member of the Boston Celtics. Which reminds me: Did Kevin McHale show up to pick up his ring and raise the banner last night?

2. When words like "vindication" and "redemption" are tossed around regarding the events of last season, the topic is usually Paul Pierce, and deservedly so -- he not only has tenure, but his dues were paid in full long ago. (Remind yourself of this: Until last year, the best player he ever called a teammate was Antoine Walker.) But I also think it's been somewhat overlooked how huge Ray Allen was in the Finals -- remember, he drained 7 of 9 three-pointers in the clincher -- and how much he overcame and how mentally tough he proved to be given his earlier struggles in the playoffs. Don't forget to praise him, too.

3. Glad I got to see the Moment of Truth, so to speak, as the tears and the genuine emotion flowed from Pierce when he received the championship ring that was such a long time coming. Also glad I missed his ode-to-me acceptance speech, during which Pierce apparently sounded like he considers basketball an individual sport.

4. It'll be interesting to see if the Celtics play with the same defensive intensity night in and night out as they did a season ago, especially since they'll be wearing an bull's-eye from Game 1 to Game 82. Garnett, of course, will be the same lunatic as ever on the defensive end, and Rondo is officially a lock-down defender at the point. But the commitment to defense from Ray Allen and Pierce -- two veteran stars not exactly considered Michael Cooper disciples in the past -- was remarkable a season ago, and it is fair to wonder if they will keep it up again this year on that end of the court. I suppose that's why they pay Tom Thibodeau the big bucks.

5. I realize Tony Allen will be the recipient-by-default of many of James Posey's minutes and responsibilities, but it's foolish to think he can provide the Celtics with anything resembling the contributions of the last season's sixth-man extraordinaire. Let's put it this way: When Posey had the ball late in a game, you expected he'd do the right thing, and he rarely let you down. When Allen has the ball, you expect a wild drive to the basket, a dribble off his foot, or a chest pass to the leprechaun.

6. In fact, I'll go so far as to say that by season's end -- and probably sooner -- ferocious Bill Walker will be called upon to do more Posey Things than will Allen, who ideally would settle into sort of an instant-offense, just-play-don't-think role off the bench.

7. Have I mentioned that I miss Posey? I have? Yeah, I guess you're right. If I keep this up, the courts won't allow me within 200 yards of him. (But I can still send him letters, right? Anyone have his e-mail address? Is he on Facebook, maybe?)

8. How encouraging is it that Rajon Rondo looks like he spent the offseason gnawing on barbells? If he put up Jason Kidd-in-his-early-prime numbers this season, would anyone be completely shocked?

9. Too bad Rondo didn't haul Big Baby with him to the gym a couple of times a per week. He looks like he spent the summer interning at Little Debbie, though he does look slimmer than he did at the start of camp.

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Ten free minutes for me, 10 free throwaway lines for you . . .

1. While the Pink Hatters' relentless shrieks when he steps to the plate can get a little annoying in an eardrum-shredding sort of way, it's been nothing but a pleasure to watch Jacoby Ellsbury in his rookie season with the Red Sox. Even with his recent struggles, there's no doubt he's going to be a star here for years to come. But anyone who thinks he, and not Tampa Bay phenom Evan Longoria, is the frontrunner for the AL Rookie of the Year award needs to start watching "Baseball Tonight" once in a while, or at least something other than NESN propaganda. While Ellsbury's batting average is a point higher (.272 to .271) and he obviously blows him away in steals, Longoria has a huge edge in homers (15 to 5), OPS (.874 to .739) and OPS+ (134 to 94), among other categories. Frankly, as much as we admire Ellsbury, the competition and comparison isn't even close. Longoria, coming off a torrid June in which he had a 1.066 OPS, is the superior rookie. I just hope he doesn't show as much in the next few days.

2. The win total (216) is low, and the ERA (3.46) is probably too high, but in the end, yes, I think Curt Schilling will get into the Hall of Fame. He was a crucial-to-heroic contributor on three World Champions, won 11 of 13 postseason decisions, and will be remembered as one of the greatest big game pitchers in the annals of the sport. Thanks to the bloody sock, he may be one of those players whose legend and legacy continue to grow. And while Schilling plays it humble and says he doesn't belong in Cooperstown, I betcha he has a rough draft of his speech already written.

3. So Carlton Fisk is now doing radio spots for "Just For Men" hair color. Funny, after seeing him at RemDawgPalooza the other night, I was pretty sure his dye of choice is Valvoline. We should all look so good at 60, though. (Wait . . . Pudge is 60? Good heavens, where did the time go?)

4. I've long thought Lance Berkman was baseball's most underrated great hitter - his most similar player according to baseballreference.com is David Ortiz - and he only enhanced my opinion of him while tormenting Sox pitching this weekend. But he does have one stat this season that caught even a longtime fan by surprise, and it's not the .363 batting average. Berkman is third on the Astros, behind burner Michael Bourn and Kaz Matsui, with 12 stolen bases. He must be a hell of a savvy baserunner, because he doesn't look like he could take a one-legged Sean Casey in a footrace.

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Ranking your favorite championships is like ranking your children. You have your favorites. You just don't tell your wife.

No, no, wait, dear, I was just kidding . . . Of course I love all of our babies equally . . . Even what's-his-name, the little pirate-looking fella with the wooden leg . . .

(NBA.com Photo)

Anyway, while I prepare to sleep on the couch tonight, I suppose I should warn those of you who aren't Boston sports fans that this post is an exercise in supreme arrogance. Yup, even moreso than usual.

You see, we're here today to rank our teams' six championships this decade - that's right, SIX championships - and you can bet your Loserville pennant that we're going to enjoy it.

(Editor's note: For today's purposes, we're going to pretend Super Bowl XLII never happened. Because it didn't. Thank you, TATB Management.)

So Yankees fans, you can skip out on us today and surf on over to your other favorite destination . . . what is it again, BronxChixWithMustachesTomSelleckWouldEnvy.com? Sounds right.

Lakers fans, you can stop pretending you care and again focus on your real favorite pastime: bleaching your hair, your teeth, your nostrils, your Vujacic, and whatever else happens to be the Tinseltown trend of the moment. Freaks.

And Philly fans . . . well, I don't even know where to begin with you. Moses Malone isn't walking through that door. And if he did, he'd probably drop 25 and 20 on Samuel Dalembert.

But seriously, enough about you. This is about us. So fire up the duck boats, let the confetti rain, and let's get rankin' . . .

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You're damn right it's okay to call them the Big Three now.

(AP Photo)

After the Boston Celtics' 131-92 public evisceration of the soft and soulless Los Angeles Lakers tonight to clinch their 17th world championship, let the record show that Paul Pierce, Ray Allen and Kevin Garnett no longer stand in anyone's shadow. They are NBA champions in their own right, and they did it in a manner that would impress even Larry, Kevin, and the Chief. Your kids will remember this the way we remember 1986, and that's exactly how it should be. The Big Three sequel was 22 years in the making, but man, what a movie it turned out to be.

It seems appropriate to distribute the first portion of praise to the player who has been here the longest and endured the most, the captain, Pierce. It was often said by those pushing a Laker agenda before this series that the team with the best player inevitably prevails in the Finals. Well, wouldn't you know it, that proved to be the truth . . . or should I say, The Truth. With the exception of a clunker in Game 3, Pierce thoroughly outplayed the regular season MVP, Kobe (You're No Jordan) Bryant, on both ends of the court, collecting a Finals MVP award of his own to accompany the Larry O'Brien Trophy. Celtics fans knew Pierce was complete player and a legitimate superstar long ago; now the rest of the nation does as well.

Allen took longer to win us over, but when he did it, he sure did it with flair. Tonight he hit seven of nine 3-point attempts en route to 26 points, brilliantly concluding series in which he reminded us why he is one of the most effective, efficient, and aesthetically pleasing shooters in the history of the league. Postseason success did not come easy for Allen - he agonized through a 9-for-51 slump in the early rounds that left some wondering if the 32-year-old's gas tank was on empty. To his credit, he stuck to his legendary pregame routine, literally shot his way out of the slump, and was so consistently excellent against the Lakers (a Finals-record 21 3-pointers) that he would have been a worthy MVP had the honor not gone to Pierce. Allen proved himself to be the epitome of a professional, and it has been a privilege to watch him these past two weeks.

As for Mr. Garnett, the word we used earlier today keeps returning to mind: Redemption. Never again should his fortitude in the big moments be questioned, never again should those who criticized his game be heard. It turns out Bill Russell doesn't have to give him a ring after all. Tonight, he went out and claimed his own, scoring 26 points, collecting 14 rebounds, and earning his place on the pedestal alongside the great Celtic big men of other eras. Watching him embrace Russell in the aftermath . . . well, if that doesn't make a Boston sports fan a little verklempt, then your cynical soul is beyond hopeless, my friend.

If there was any doubt about this trio's Hall of Fame credentials - and really, there shouldn't have been - it was permanently erased last night, when they combined for 69 points, 21 rebounds, and 16 assists. Appropriately, Pierce, Allen, and Garnett exited together with 4:01 left to play, spending the final moments of the season beaming through a continuous photo op and rejoicing in the ultimate team feat, something none of them could accomplish solo in their decorated careers.

And make no mistake - despite those sensational contributions of the, yes, Big Three, this was a complete team effort. So many members of the unsung supporting cast - think anyone still believes the Lakers have a superior bench? - deserve a standing ovation today.

We must start with James Posey, for he is to these Celtics what Troy Brown was to the '01 Patriots. When something absolutely, positively needed to be done during this postseason - say, drilling a 3-pointer from the corner, taking a charge on Kobe, poking away a steal in the back court, anything - he inevitably did it. He is the ultimate role player, just what every championship team needs, and there are few recent Boston athletes I've admired more.

So many others deserve a salute: Eddie House, who kept his shooting hand locked and loaded even when minutes were scarce . . . Kendrick Perkins, whose toughness and brute-force defense gave the old timers some welcome Paul Silas flashbacks . . . Rajon Rondo, the maddening but bright and gifted kid point guard who saved his best for last (21 points, 8 assists, 6 steals, 1 turnover) . . . Leon Powe, who made sure Phil Jackson learned his name . . . youthful and exuberant Big Baby Davis . . . ancient and wise P.J. Brown . . . and hell, yes, even Cassell.

Let's not overlook the two men most responsible for bringing this wonderful team together. There's Doc Rivers, the maligned coach, who demonstrated such an uncommon (and unexpected) knack for making the right choices as the stakes grew larger that one almost had to wonder if someone was whispering in his ear. Rivers, relentlessly positive and unifying, always had his players' respect, even when the seas were roughest, which tells you all you need to know about his competence.

Finally, there's Danny Ainge, the direct link from that beloved champion 22 years ago to this one, the tireless-shooting-guard-turned-tireless-GM whose savvy trades and free agent signings sparked the greatest one-season turnaround in league history. I still don't know whether the sequence of events that led to the Garnett deal was more by luck or design, but at this moment, it matters not one bit. He revived the franchise, and he cannot receive enough credit for that.

To think about where the the Celtics were 12 months ago - reeling after yet another lottery letdown, leaving its downtrodden fans muttering and desperately trying to talk themselves into believing in a pipe dream such as the raw promise of Gerald Green - well, it might just be the most improbable story of all in this remarkable (six champions!) decade of Boston sports success.

Read the words: The Boston Celtics, World Champions. At last and again.

Let the praise and the champagne flow.

Ten free minutes for me, 10 free throwaway lines for you . . .

1. It's not possible to exaggerate it: tonight is set up to be the defining moment of Kevin Garnett's career. A strong individual performance in a Celtics victory would secure his legacy as a champion, as the player whose arrival revived Celtics Pride, and as one of the sport's 25 to 35 all-time greatest players . . . or, should he play as poorly as he did in Game 5, it would only enhance thearguments of those who say he swallows his tongue in the biggest moments, that he'll never be a true superstar because he habitually shrivels in the spotlight. I think I've made clear over the course of this wonderful season how much Garnett his admired around here, and while I'll agree that he does make curious decisions on occasion, I believe wholeheartedly that he will deliver one of his classic 24-point, 15-rebound performances in front of the home crowd tonight. Other than watching Paul Pierce celebrate as a champion, I can't think of another angle I'll enjoy more than the KG redemption.

2. I have to admit, I didn't think the Celtics would miss Kendrick Perkins as much as they did in Game 5, and it's reassuring that he's going to try to give it a go tonight. In his absence, and with KG in foul trouble, Pau Gasol actually asserted himself, which he hasn't done since his mother tried to talk him out of wearing his sister's leotard to school in fourth grade.

3. I guess this means the advertising was effective, because I'm actually curious to see how those NBA split-screen, talking-head commercials end once the Finals are over. Gotta figure it will be Garnett's mug alone, rhapsodizing about winning a championship, followed by Pierce and Ray Allen, right? Oh, and Scal, obviously. Just as long as Larry in a tank top doesn't make another appearance, we should be cool with whatever they come up with.

4. In case you ever catch me offering fantasy baseball advice in this space again, please, remind me that I recommended and coveted these three players at the start of this season: Justin Verlander, Troy Tulowitzki, and Aaron Hill. Yikes - even Bill Bavasi wasn't that inept. I'm just grateful I didn't get any of them, and stumbled into Brandon Webb after Verlander went a few picks earlier.

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So here we are, Game 107 of the most redemptive of seasons, and as we nervously anticipate the arrival of victory No. 82 and the 22 seasons' worth of euphoria that will accompany it, for once I will cut to the chase:

I think the Celtics will win this thing tonight, and I think they will win it going away.

After the enduring Game 4's epic collapse, I just can't see any of the Lakers other than Kobe and perhaps Derek Fisher showing up for this one. Certainly a fast start by the Celtics will render the EuroSofties useless for the remainder of the night, and a fast start by the Lakers can be overcome. We saw proof of as much on ESPN Classic just last night.

To put it another way: When your season is hanging in the balance, do you really want to be relying on the marshmallow-tough likes of Pau Gasol, Sasha (Ole!) Vujacic, and Vladimir Radmanovic? No, you don't, and I don't think Phil Jackson does, either.

And while we'd all love to see a Boston team clinch a championship at home one of these seasons - wow, how greedy did that just sound? - there would be an appropriate symmetry to clinching tonight in LA.

I like the idea of Paul Pierce enjoying his career-defining, Hall of Fame-clinching moment in the city in which he was raised. And it would warm even the most cynical hearts to see Doc Rivers, who lost his dad unexpectedly earlier this season, have a moment of joy this Father's Day.

Even without the sidelined Kendrick Perkins, who apparently doesn't have Martin Riggs's ability to pop his shoulders into place and will be replaced by Leon Powe in the starting lineup tonight, the Celtics are the tougher team. They are also the superior one.

I said it in the tease, and I'll say it again. Tonight is where No. 17 happens.

FIRST QUARTER
12:00 - Celts win the tip. This one's in the bag.

11:44 - Celts turnover. Damn, those Lakers are resilient!

11:03 - Kobe hits a step-back three, and the Lakers are off to a 5-0 start. It'll be interesting to see if his teammates are permitted to shoot before he touches the ball on a particular possession. Part of the problem down the stretch for the Lakers Thursday is that Bryant didn't trust his teammates on a night when he wasn't shooting well, while conversely, his teammates were way too deferential to him.

10:45 - Dick Bavetta and Kenny Mauer. I guess Joey Crawford couldn't get off his shift at Jiffy Lube. It's a wonder Pierce hasn't fouled out yet.

9:04 - Fisher drills a three, and it's already 8-2, LA. He's one Laker you have to respect, and probably the only one on the roster who could tell Kobe to shut the hell up without having to deal with the petty repercussions.

7:49 - Rondo passes up an open layup to kick it to Pierce for a three, which he misses. I hate it when Rondo does that - it happens at least once a game.

7:01 - Gasol gets position on Powe, collects the offensive rebound, and converts a conventional 3-point play. That probably wouldn't have happened with Perkins out there, and I thought it was interesting in the pregame when Jeff Van Gundy said the Celtics will miss him more than people realize because of his defensive prowess. Of course, that's coming from someone whose ideal score is 68-66.

6:38 - Bryant for three, and it's 18-5. Good timeout by Doc. This run by the Lakers isn't surprising - they should have the adrenaline out of the gate - but the Celtics need to do all they can to keep it under control.

5:33 - Kobe drills another three, and he is not going to go quietly.

5:16 - Thirty seconds after checking in, Eddie House knocks down a three. If I'm a Lakers fan, I loathe that guy in the same way Celtics fans loathe Vujacic.

4:53 - Kobe, 3. Right now it's Bryant 14, Celtics 10.

3:07 - Strong lefty slash by Fisher, and it's apparent the Lakers' old champions have come to play tonight. No surprise there. It's the rest of the cast that will be their downfall.

2:08 - Lamar Odom steps off the side of the milk carton to lead a 4-on-2 break that culminates with his lefty layup, and it's 31-15. Says Mike Breen: "Celtics have them right where they want them." I think he was being sarcastic, but he's also right.

1:08 - Garnett picks up his second foul, a bummer since he's off to a great start with eight points, including - gasp! - a nice drop-step for two on the last possession.

:47 - Pierce has Luke Walton guarding him right now. Bill Walton has quicker feet. The Celtics need to take advantage of this.

:39.1 - Pierce draws a foul on Walton and hits two from the line. Great minds, baby . . .

:29.2 - Jordan Farmar buries a jumper, and Breen practically jumps out of his seat yelling "FARMAR!" Of course, the "I HEART JORDAN FARMAR" t-shirt he's wearing should have told us where his allegiances are tonight.

:00 - The Lakers own a 39-22 advantage after one, thanks to 65 percent shooting from the field. I'm assuming they're familiar with the law of averages after the other night. No worries yet, my friends. This will be a game yet.

Candace Parker, I agree: You couldn't pay me to watch women's basketball, either.

SECOND QUARTER
12:00 - Celtics great Chris Mihm makes an appearance! Frankly, I'm impressed he remembered to put his game shorts on.

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So please join me @ 9, when, as the slogan might say, No. 17 happens.

Two TATB live blogs in the Finals, two Celtics victories. If it's all right with you, I'd just as soon continue the trend.

(AP Photo)

A few pregame points of interest:

• Rajon Rondo's health is the question of the night, and judging by the pregame reports, the Celtics' point guard is good to go. He's got the recuperative powers of youth on his side and I'm pretty sure he's made out of rubber anyway, so I'm not particularly worried about his condition, at least until Sam Cassell heads to the scorer's table. Here's hoping Eddie House gets the brunt of the minutes if Rondo is slowed at all.

• Jon Barry picked the Celtics to win. James Worthy picked Pau Gasol to domininate Kevin Garnett. For once, Barry wasn't the biggest numbskull on the ABC set. Big night for him.

• I understand people wanting Kevin Garnett to play closer to the basket - those 21-footers really should be 18-footers - but anyone who expects him to suddenly break out his former general manager's post moves simply has not been paying attention. That's not who he is. He's a great midrange shooter who's not hitting his shots right now, in part because of Kobe Bryant's double team. He'll be better tonight, and he'll anchor the defense and rebound no matter what.

• Lamar Odom did make it to the game. Of course, I'm pretty sure Chris Mihm's sole duty at this point is to make sure Odom gets to the Staples Center.

All right, game time. Here's to victory No. 81 . . .

FIRST QUARTER
10:43 - Odom and Ray Allen trade quick baskets, then Paul Pierce clanks a three and misses badly on a floater/pass/something. He's already trying to be the hero. Not a good sign.

10:13 - Perkins is called for a loose ball foul after Kobe gives the Lakers a 5-2 lead at the line. Ticky-tack, unnecessary foul. Somewhere, Tim Donaghy nods knowingly at his new cellmate and life partner, Bubba.

9:30 - Doc Rivers gets called for a technical. I'm with him on this one. The Lakers are getting all the whistles early, not that they need much help.

9:12 - Odom dunks to cap a 7-0 Laker run, and it's 9-2. The Lakers look smooth, the Celtics look semi-conscious, and the officials' stripes might as well be purple and gold.

7:21 - Another hoop for Odom, followed a few moments later by a Vladimir Radmanovic 3-pointer. All of the Lakers' softies have come to play thus far tonight.

6:22 - My boy, 22 months, has an infection in one ear right now. The doctor today said his equilibrium would be off and he'd be wobbly for a few days. I'm beginning to wonder if Paul Pierce has an ear infection. He can't even dribble without stumbling so far, and Garnett is no better. For such a great passer, he has no clue how to solve the double team when Kobe runs at him. Hell, Kobe just pulled the ball out of his hands a few minutes ago. It's 16-6, LA, and they'd better find some solutions soon.

6:05 - Odom with offensive rebound, resulting in Garnett's second foul. Honestly, I don't know what to say this point.

5:34 - Radmanovic hits another 3, right in Pierce's mug, and LA takes a 20-6 lead. The next time he touches the ball, I hope he gets Rambised into the third row. He'd be useless and quivering the rest of the night.

5:00 - Eddie House in for Rondo. Van Gundy approves, and so do I. Something or someone needs to provide an offensive spark, which reminds me: Do they ever run a set play for Ray Allen? He shot the lights out of the place Tuesday, and now he gets his shots only after Pierce decides he doesn't have enough room to heave up a three.

3:38 - Odom buries his fifth straight shot, and I'm beginning to regret every snide thing I ever said about him.

3:26 - House misses his second straight attempt. You don't think Sam Cassell is contagious, do you?

3:03 - Current score: Odom 12, Celtics 7.

2:10 - Pierce scores on a drive, then feeds Allen for a 3. Mike Breen, who I'm almost sure is wearing a game-worn Gail Goodrich jersey tonight, informs us that it's the first time the Celtics have scored on consecutive positions. That pretty much tells you all you need to know.

1:58 - James Posey in. This is overdue. He'll stick an elbow in someone's sternum. Hopefully, Odom's.

:51.1 - House bricks a wide-open three. If he's not hitting that, he's as useless as Cassell. Well, okay, no one's that useless.

:51 - The Lakers are killing the Celtics on the boards - I think Breen just said it's 12-6. Inexcusable. The Lakers are not a tough or physical team, but the Celtics are making them look like one. How does this happen?

:33 - Trevor Ariza hits a 3, and it's 34-12. Read that again: Trevor Ariza hits a 3. I'm beyond confusion now. I'm pissed.

:4.7 - The Lakers have more free throw attempts (16) than the Celtics have points (14), but you know what? It's not all the refs' fault. The Celtics have been just that passive, just that awful. They deserve this.

:00 - The Lakers end the quarter with a football blowout of a lead - 35-14 - and Breen gleefully reports it's the largest lead after one quarter in Finals history. I'm trying to talk myself into believing they can come back from this, but I haven't seen a single reason why I should.

SECOND QUARTER
9:50 - The Staples Center crowd is giving Ariza (6 points, 5 rebounds in 5 minutes) a standing ovation, which tells you all you need to know. I'm pretty sure they didn't know him from Ira Newble 20 minutes ago.

9:02 - Two straight hoops for Garnett - well, that's something - and it's 37-19.

8:13 - Breen: "Former draft pick of the New York Knicks, Trevor Ariza, getting it done for the Lakers." Ah, now his true identity is revealed . . . Funny how Knicks fans conveniently morph into Lakers fans when it comes to the Celtics. We're looking at you, Spike.

8:05 - I think Michelle Tafoya just jumped Will Smith. Probably the smoothest move of the night by anyone not wearing gold.

7:53 - Odom. Again. Seven shots, seven makes. I think he might read this blog. I'm sorry, Lamar. You've made your point. You can go back to sleep now.

7:31 - Garnett bricks a turnaround, followed by a turnover on the next possession, and the Celtics have absolutely no flow on offense. None. Bricked threes and misses on contested shots. This is just gross. I feel like I'm watching the Knicks.

4:46 - Kobe just bricked a jumper, and I'm not sure he even has a field goal yet, which tells you all you need to know about how his supporting cast is playing.

4:13 - Allen for 3, and it's 45-26. If Doc has a brain in his head, he'll run every play for No. 20 and see if he can shoot the C's back into this thing. Of course, that's assuming the Celtics have plays for Allen. (Great timeout here by Phil Jackson, who typically does a fantastic job of managing the game's momentum.)

3:48 - Posey for 3, and the Celtics have it down to 14 . . .

2:51 - . . . Pierce for two more, and it's a 12-0 run. And this is all happening as Breen (now adorned in Chuck Nevitt's practice-worn tube socks) are all but talking about this game in the past tense. The Celtics may not come all the way back in this thing, but veteran NBA announcers should know better than to write a game off in the first half.

2:36 - A conventional 3-point play by Derek Fisher wakes up the Staples Center crowd (I think they were all "powdering their noses" at the same time), Gasol follows with an easy two, and suddenly it's back up to 17. The Celtics simply cannot afford to stall out now. They need to be within a dozen at the half.

1:14 - Posey drills another 3. He has 10 points in the quarter. If he's lucky, Trevor Ariza will grow up to be James Posey some day.

:52.2 - I'm not sure if Pierce's knee is the reason, but he looks a step slower than usual tonight. That said, he just bounded to the hoop and drew the third foul on Kobe. Could be meaningful later if the Celts keep chipping away.

:5.2 - Rondo is getting schooled by Fisher off the dribble. Might be due to the sore ankle, might be due to inexperience, might be due to the fact that the Celtics completely stink tonight. You figure it out. In the meantime, give me more House, please.

:00 - Jordan Farmar throws in a running 3 at the buzzer to end the half, and it's 58-40 as the Lakers skip off to the locker room to get their halftime massages from Dyan Cannon and that creepy guy in the hat who sits next to Nicholson. The only way it could have been a more appropriate end to a %*$*$ half of basketball is if Ariza or Odom hit the shot.

Also, I should note this: Doc took Garnett out to prevent him from getting his third foul with about a minute left in the quarter at the LA lead down to 13. Right now, that is looking Isiah-level stupid - the Celtics lost their anchor on defense and all momentum on offense.

Halftime analysis: Enough with this Ubuntu, happy-happy, joy-joy b.s. I hope Doc lights into them, then punctuates his rant by breaking his clipboard over Pierce's head. Neither the clipboard nor Pierce have been of much use tonight so far anyway.

(Postgame note: Okay, enough of that negativity. For the good parts, click below.)

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So please join me @ 9 p.m. as we discover the answer to this burning question: Does Lamar Odom even know there's a game tonight?

Postgame overreaction while spotting Eddie Murphy in the stands and realizing that the last time he was funny, the Celtics and Lakers were in the Finals . . .

(AP Photo)

1. While I can't help but lament the lost opportunity tonight - the victory was there for the taking, and for all intents and purposes so was Banner No. 17, since we all know a 3-0 lead is surmountable in sports only when Big Papi is involved - I'm feeling strangely fine about the Celtics' performance, even in defeat. Considering that the Lakers were amped up to be playing their first game of the Finals in front of Jack, Denzel, and the rest of the Tinseltown sycophants, and considering that Paul Pierce and Kevin Garnett combined to score 17 points on Cassell-like 8-of-35 shooting, you can't help but feel encouraged that the Celtics, buoyed by the dazzlingly rejuvenated Ray Allen (25 points, five 3s) and their usual lockdown defense, still had a damn good chance of swiping the game in the final minutes. While I am beginning to worry that this entire roster is going to be on crutches by the time the playoffs end - Rajon Rondo sprained an ankle tonight, Kendrick Perkins isn't quite himself, and Pierce's problematic knee seemed to affect his lateral quickness, though you just know he was faking - I am convinced more than ever that they are the superior team, and they'll eventually have that golden trophy to prove it. It's not often you come out of a loss with such optimism.

2. Kobe was excellent as expected, dropping in an efficient 36 points on 20 field-goal attempts, though had he not been uncharacteristically scattershot from the free-throw line (he missed 7 of 18), the Lakers might have been able to avoid some of that fourth-quarter drama. Bryant was also a demon on the defensive end, seemingly covering Pierce and Rondo at once while apparently intent on showing Jeff Van Gundy that his stellar reputation as a defender is justified. Yes, it was an outstanding all-around performance by the MVP - but hell, that's what he's supposed to do, right? In that regard, the key to the victory wasn't Bryant, but Sasha Vujacic, the floppy-haired pest who proved a capable second option on a night the Lakers were desperate for one, scoring 20 points in 28 minutes, including a back-breaking 3-pointer to give the Lakers an 81-76 lead inside the final two minutes. Vujacic, who is apparently determined to prove that all of the Lakers' Europeans aren't as soft as Bartolo Colon's underbelly, has serious villain potential should the Lakers ultimately make a series of this thing.

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Yup, I'm here, and just flipped on the Samsung to catch a snippet of the Bill Russell/Kevin Garnett conversation ESPN has been milking throughout the playoffs. If I heard right - and I may not have, because as I was watching, my wife and in-house analyst exclaimed, "That's Bill Russell? I thought he was white" - it sounded like Russell promised to give Garnett one of his championship rings if the Celtics don't win it this year. Pretty cool gesture, and one you, me, and especially KG desperately hope he doesn't have to fulfill.

(Getty Images)

Anyway, on to the game. The key to this one should be obvious to just about everyone, possibly even Jon Barry:

The health of Paul Pierce and Kendrick Perkins: Like I said, obviously. By all accounts, Pierce feels and looks relatively healthy, and for that we can probably thank the nutty schedulemaker who booked two off days in the same city between Games 1 and 2. (If there's a logical reason for this, I must have missed it.) While much of the Celtics' fate in this series depends on the state of Pierce's messed-up meniscus, we also can't underestimate the importance of Perk, who has a chance to be a huge factor against a Lakers team that was shockingly soft in Game 1. (Has Gasol opened his eyes after Garnett's follow-up jam yet?) Perkins could be just the guy to rattle some brittle Laker bones, but if his ankle isn't close to healthy, then he's not going to be of much use.

Two other points while waiting for the 46th commerical break of the pregame to end: 1) That Kobe-walking-around-Boston thing was stupid and contrived. It figures that Stuart Scott liked it. 2) Doc Rivers just quoted Tony Dungy in his pregame speech, and I believe the reference had to do with how the Colts finally overcame the Patriots. At this point in Boston sports history, I don't particularly believe in bad omens, but I do have to wonder if Doc knows what city he is in right now. I mean . . . Dungy? He couldn't just read a passage from Derek Jeter's biography?

FIRST QUARTER
11:51 - Perkins waits exactly nine seconds to pick up his first foul. In a related note, Mike Breen informed us a few minutes ago that Perk had a cortisone shot before the game. We may be seeing a lot of P.J. Brown and Leon Powe tonight, and maybe even Big Baby.

10:06 - In the first 1:54, Pierce has hit a 3 and drawn two fouls on Vladimir Radmanovic, forcing Phil Jackson to dust off Trevor Ariza, who has played so little since coming back from injury that he smells like mothballs. So far, so good for Pierce.

9:13 - Perk hits a baseline fadeaway. Obviously, he's really hurting. He'd never make that shot if he was his usual self.

8:18 - Pierce blows by Ariza, makes a lefty layup, and draws a foul on Lamar Odom. That's either his fourth or fifth shot attempt, and yes, I'd say he's probably feeling quite all right. Wonder if he's ever heard of Bill Plaschke. If not, he's lucky.

7:04 - It's 10-8, Lakers, after Garnett misses a midrange jumper. The Celtics don't seem to be shooting particularly well right now, and as I'm writing that, the Celts commit their fourth turnover of the quarter on a ticky-tack offensive foul call. Not exactly the ideal start here.

5:50 - Odom gets a tip-in, prompting Mark Jackson to say something like: "You can tell by Odom and Gasol's body language that they have come to play." Meaning they don't look A) stoned or B) ready to burst into tears. That's their fourth quarter "body language."

4:28 - KG has hit two jumpers in a row, and it's 15-14, Lakers. Good to see, because that bearded turtle Gasol has outplayed him slightly so far.

3:51 - Ray Allen for 3, and the net barely fluttered. When he's feeling it, there isn't a prettier shot in the game, but you probably knew that. For the record, my all-time favorite jump shooter, non-Legend division, is Dale Ellis, who had no wasted motion in his shot whatsoever - it was basically a flick of the wrist. Poetry in motion, it was.

1:59 - Kobe picks up his second foul and sits with the Lakers leading, 19-18. I think it's fair to say that one doesn't get called at the Staples Center.

Commercial: Can Alonzo Mourning even drink Gatorade? That stuff can't possibly be good for the kidneys.

1:00 - Nice decision by Rondo, feeding Garnett for an open J just before the shot clock expired. I like what I've seen of him so far.

:44.3 - Van Gundy reiterates that Kobe Bryant shouldn't be on the All-Defensive Team, says he's a "lawyer" on the court, and then suggests players should get seven fouls rather than six. Have I mentioned yet tonight that he's the best basketball analyst I've heard in . . . well, I can't think of anyone who really compares in terms of humor and insight.

:07 - Jordan Farmar, who has apparently borrowed Jorge Posada's ears for the evening, hits a 3, Allen has a near-miss on the other end, and the Lakers lead after one, 22-20. I'll take it.

SECOND QUARTER
12:00 - Cassell in. Note to self: Prepare to heave the remote at the TV.

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So please join me as we watch World B. Cassell hoist 32 shots in 8 minutes of playing time, which should work out to a point-per-minute pace . . .

Man, my mind was on this basketball game all day - I don't think I'd anticipated a Celtics game this eagerly since all those epics they've been running on ESPN Classic this week were live on CBS 20-something years ago. Surely you can relate to the feeling.

(AP Photo)

Then I made a terrible mistake. I tuned into the Sox tonight for an appetizer. After witnessing the horror of an Ellsbury injury, a possible Manny hamstring tweak, a bizarre Manny/Youkilis near-reenactment of Reggie Jackson/Billy Martin in the dugout, and a brawl filled with so many Rays cheap shots you wonder if they thought Brian Daubach was still playing for the Sox (I think even Gerald "Ice" Williams got in a few jabs) . . . well, I'm having a hard time focusing on hoops right now.

Fortunately, Mike Breen just popped up on the TV, and he appears to be wearing a freakish flesh-colored band-aid over his right eyebrow. Just the distraction I needed. I bet if you dunked him in powder and gave him a stringy black wig, he'd look like Marilyn Manson.

Anyway, I'm running behind as usual - did I mention my 4-year-old tripped over the computer cord, the Mac crashed to the floor, and now only half the screen appears to work? - so let's just cut to the chase: Celtics in 7, with Win No. 13 of this postseason arriving tonight. I'll elaborate more as the game goes on . . .

FIRST QUARTER
9:00 - Lakers jump to an insurmountable 6-5 lead. Lamar Odom hit his first jumper, which isn't an encouraging sign for the Celtics. To me (and I lot of other people weighing in on this series the last few days) he's the key to the Lakers, much in the way Ray Allen is for Boston. When Odom's playing well, his team's offense is damn near unstoppable. Secretly, I was hoping a Celts fan would send Odom a giant gift bag of weed this week, just to see if it might have some effect.

8:22 - Rajon Rondo swishes a baseline jumper, giving the Celts a 7-6 lead. Unlike just about everyone at ESPN, I like Rondo against Derek Fisher in this series. He's got gears that Fisher has never had, and I feel like he should be able to zip by him almost at will.

7:00 - Sorry this is moving so slowly. My wife is reading along on the busted half-screen computer, and she keeps asking me questions and talking and that sort of stuff that wives instinctively tend to do when a game you've been waiting to watch for - well, years, in one sense - finally arrives. ("Look all the crumbs came out of the computer when it fell . . . ") I'd like to tell her to zip it, but that would be rude, and I'm really quite polite, you know.

5:42 - Gasol makes things look really easy offensively. He's more or less ambidextrous. One Perkins elbow to the sternum, however, and he'll be as useless as Chris Mihm for long stretches of play. (And somewhere, Don Cherry nods and snorts, "European sissy.")

3:21 - Bryant bricks his fourth shot in five attempts. Allen followed at the other end with his second straight field goal, a 3-pointer, to give the Celtics a 19-14 lead. And in a related story, I don't buy for a second that they've made up in their feud. Allen might be the forgiving type, but Kobe strikes me as someone who can hold a grudge for a long time. Like, forever. After all, he is a Jordan mimic.

Commercial: I've said it before, and it's the honest truth - Adam Sandler was the funniest standup act I ever saw in college, and that includes Seinfeld and quite a few comics of note. But I wouldn't go see that Zohan movie if he paid for my Sprite and Goobers.

2:31 - Jordan Farmar with a smooth slash to the hoop. I thought it was foolish that anyone would give Mitch Kupchak consideration over Danny Ainge for executive of the year this season, but the Lakers' GM has done a terrific job the last few seasons rebuilding the L.A. bench with kids like Farmar, Vujacic, and Turiaf, among others. Like Ainge, he seems to have an eye for finding talent that those picking higher in the draft have overlooked. That's a hell of an advantage for a team already stocked with big names.

1:04 - It's 21-21, and Rondo's playing a little recklessly right now. He just slightly misled Garnett on an alley-oop, and he drives me nuts when he has a path to a layup, gets within a few feet of the rim, and passes up the layup to kick it out for a jumper. Take the easy one, kid.

After the first quarter, it's 23-21, Celts, and given how erratic Kobe has been so far, the Lakers have to feel pretty good about that.

Phil Jackson tells Michelle Tafoya that the Celts are faceguarding Kobe. Is whining about imaginary sleights one of the basic tenets of Zen?

SECOND QUARTER
12:00 - Celtics start the quarter with Sam Cassell, P.J. Brown, and Leon Powe on the court. Not exactly DJ, McHale, and Maxwell there, but it'll have to do, I suppose.

9:52 - Lamar Odom is only 28? Wow, it feels like he's been around so long that he should have played for the Clippers back when they were in San Diego. Jim Harrick is probably still trying to find a way to get him eligible at Rhode Island.

9:36 - Cassell hits his first two shots. Surprisingly, they did not stop the game and present him with the ball.

9:21 - Seriously, what the hell could have possibly happened with Manny and Youkilis? Youk looked like he had no idea what was wrong.

8:46 - Mark Jackson: "Kobe Bryant is as good as Michael Jordan on any given day." That nonsense is barely out of his mouth before a graphic proves him to be a complete fool: Jordan averaged five more points, and won three more titles and four more MVPs. He is not as good as Michael Jordan. What he is is an adequate facsimile . . . on any given day.

8:00 - Celts up, 32-29. Cassell has hit all three of his shots, and as Breen sagely notes, "I think he's shot the ball every time he's touched it." That's our Sam.

7:25 - I'll admit it. I like Ronny Turiaf. He plays hard, and was about the only player on those likable Gonzaga teams who didn't have a goofy white-guy 'fro.

6:27 - I really do think the Celts win the series in 7, and I bet at least six of the games are instant classics. These teams are about as evenly matched as they could possibly be, and while the depth of talent isn't quite what it was in the mid-'80s, when accomplished players like McAdoo, Wedman, Cooper, Walton, and Mychal Thompson were in reserve roles, they're about as deep as teams get in today's NBA. These two deserve to be here, and they'll give us a show.

5:23 - Garnett has 16 so far in the first half, most of them coming on his patented 16- to 18-foot face-up jumper. I understand the frustration of the Felger-types who would prefer that he drag his 7-foot frame down to the block more often, especially late in games, but sometimes it's easy to forget that he is one hell of a midrange shooter. I feel like every one he takes is going in. Anyway, it's 40-35, Boston. No complaints.

4:55 - Pierce picks up his third foul. Can't say I've heard his name too much so far, but the points will come, provided he can stay on the court.

3:03 - Odom finishes a sweet lefty drive, and it's 45-42, Lakers. No one makes the game look easier than he does when he's interested.

1:20 - Just when I'm about to praise Rondo for a nifty drive-and-flip in the lane, he throws one of those stupid lob passes that nearly killed the Cs in Game 5 against Detroit. You think Doc Rivers, an ex-point guard, would have cured him of that bad habit by now . . .

:50 - . . . and as I'm writing that, he drills a jumper. I'll give Rondo this, he shoots it without hesitation now. The kid has come a long way.

:00 - Lakers take a 51-46 lead into the break despite Kobe shooting 3 for 10. Somehow, Fisher is the Lakers' leading scorer with 13 points, though I can't recall hearing his name too often.

Halftime thoughts: Jon Barry just said what I've been saying - the Celts should be worried since Kobe hasn't really got it going yet. I hate it when Jon Barry agrees with me . . . Magic says Garnett should have taken more than nine shots. Can't argue that, but what I'm really thinking is this: How has Magic remained so healthy? Looking at him, my ignorant self is guessing there are some steroids (legal, obviously) involved . . . I'm not too worried about the way this one is going, because I just feel like most of the games in this series are going to come down to the last minute or two, and this is shaping up to be one of them . . . Cassell really gave the Celts are spark, hitting 3 of his 4 shots. Still, I'd rather see Eddie House out there, and it's alarming that Doc supposedly (according to Mark Jackson) told Cassell he would play a big role in this series . . . Gasol has had too many easy shots. I hope Leon Powe is sharpening up his elbow at halftime . . . That Bird-Magic split-screen: Yikes. I think they were wearing XXXL jerseys, and I don't want to guess what the shorts situation was. I'm glad we can see only from the neck up there.

THIRD QUARTER
10:45 - Pierce converts a 3 plus a foul. Good thing Bennett Salvatore isn't in the building

9:21 - Garnett continues his aggressiveness on offense and scores his second straight hoop in the paint, giving him 20 points. Neither Gasol nor Odom, who just watched his favorite scenes in "Half-Baked" at halftime, has any interest in defending him. Van Gundy's right: Keep feeding him.

8:28 - Van Gundy on Kobe: "He plays sporadic great defense, but there's no way he deserves to be first-team all-defensive." Now that is the kind of stuff you want to hear from an analyst, and you know what? Listening to him call the Celtics games during the playoffs has made me respect him a lot more as a coach. He may look like Miss DePesto's husband, but he knows his stuff, and he can convey it to a dummy like me with insight and humor.

6:50 - Aw, geez, no. Pierce is down, grabbing his right knee, and he writhing like he's in serious pain. Looks like Perkins may have kicked him in the back of the leg on the way by while chasing Kobe. Let me tell you, I'm finding it pretty damn hard to type with my fingers crossed.

A wheelchair. *%&#&.

If something like this happens to Paul Pierce at this point in his career, after all he's been through, there is absolutely no justice in sports.

6:19 - Perkins picks up his fourth foul. I don't think the one on Pierce is included. (Sorry. This is no time for dark humor.)

5:50 - Now Perkins is headed to the locker room. I hope it's just to give Pierce a hug and a pound and say he's sorry.

5:44 - Allen drills a 3. Exactly what they need - he has to step up right now, and I think he's up to it.

5:12 - Wait! Is that . . . ? It is! Holy cow, here comes . . .

This is unreal. I've got chills.

5:04 - Tafoya says Pierce is trying to give it a go on a sprained knee. Maybe there might have been a little of false drama involved - Pierce is from Los Angeles - but dammit, if anyone doesn't respect this guy now, then they're absolutely hopeless.

4:41 - Pierce gets whacked by Kobe and promptly hits 1 of 2 from the line. That's the Paul Pierce I know.

4:10 - Allen with a bad behind the back pass to Pierce on the break, but you know what? I've got no problem with it, because if the play had been completed, the resulting roar would have blown the roof off the barn.

3:40 - Perk's coming back out of the locker room. He's probably wondering where Pierce went.

3:25 - I was watching one of the Celts-Lakers games from '84-'85 earlier today on ESPN Classic, and Byron Scott had a highlight-reel dunk over DJ on the break, the kind you don't see too often nowadays because some stiff would have hauled him down in the open court. Well, Kobe's dunk just trumped that one as the best I'd seen today, live or on tape. And in a related note: This is a fantastic basketball game. I feel like I'm in the '80s again, I'm 15 years old, and I'm wearing a cheap cotton 00 Celtics tank top my mom got at TJ Maxx.

2:25 - Garnett misses the jumper, but geez, Gasol just plays no defense. He might as well be wearing orange instead of purple, because he's nothing but a pylon.

1:42 - Pierce buries a 3 in transition, and the Celts are up one, 72- . . . and ANOTHER! WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! 75-71. But before I can stop typing all those EEEEEs, Pierce picks up his fourth foul. Shoot. Way to kill a buzz.

0:00 - Well, that was the most entertaining quarter of basketball I've seen since the Bird Era, and that is not hyperbole. The Celtics lead, 77-74, and the half closes with a shot of Pierce riding the exercise bike on the fringe of the stands, then laughing and patting a Spaudling-shaped fan on the shoulder after the fan offered a few words of wisdom. Phenomenal, phenomenal stuff, and isn't it great to feel this way about basketball again?

FOURTH QUARTER
12:00 - Allen is the only Celtics starter on the floor to start the quarter. Don't go too long without KG, Doc.

10:51 - Allen and Kobe swap hoops. Did we mention they don't like each other? Kobe does seem to be bringing out the best in Allen.

10:11 - Cassell's now missed three in a row, the last one, as Breen said, "a bad shot." Get the warmups off, Rajon.

9:38 - Cassell hits a J after a huge save at midcourt by Garnett, but then clanks a 3 on the next possession. So it goes with him. Even World B. Free thinks he's a gunner.

8:44 - I'm not saying this because he's my favorite player on the team, but doesn't it seem like every shot James Posey hits comes at the perfect time?

8:33 - Great stat: In the 10-plus minutes since Pierce got hurt, the Celtics have outscored the Lakers, 28-16. Well, that's not exactly how I expected it to go, I know that much.

7:30 - Seriously, Cassell needs to stop shooting, now. I think Van Gundy is going to start screaming at Doc to take him out any minute if this keeps up . . .

7:03 - . . . and then he passes one up as the shot clock hits 1 second. Not the kind of play a 14-year veteran should be making.

6:48 - Vujacic, who I already despise in a mini-Laimbeer sort of way, hits a 2, and the Lakers have cut the lead to 86-82 - and they've done it with Kobe catching a breather on the bench. I hate to say it, because I think Doc has done a terrific job for the most part in the playoffs (hey, at least some of us can admit we've been wrong about him), but these next few minutes might be where the coaching matchup comes into play.

5:30 - Pierce and Rondo back in, and Pierce immediately hits a step-back two. I was beginning to wonder if he was done for the night, but he's at least playing like he's healthy.

4:15 - It's 88-82, Green, but Garnett has clanked his last eight shots. That's inexcusable against Gasol, who plays defense like he's dying for a cigarette break. I agree with Van Gundy: Might be time to get a little bit closer to the hoop.

3:36 - Pierce hits a pair of free throws, then forces Kobe into a tough missed fadeaway. So you're telling me his knee is sprained? Really?

2:57 - I should note that P.J. Brown has been a Silas-like force in the fourth quarter - on one rebound, he dominated Luke Walton so badly that I think poor Luke called him "Dad" - but he was just a step slow on a layup by the recently awakened Odom, Odom converts the 3-point play, and it's 90-85.

2:02 - Gasol wants nothing to do with Brown. He's so skilled, but what a softie.

1:31 - Garnett discovers one effective way to end a streak of nine missed shots - a follow-up slam off a Posey miss. Now that's what you call emphatic, and the Celts are up eight. Might be the play of the game right there.

:16 - I love this version of Ray Allen. He buries both free throws, and the Celts are up 10. At least for one night, L.A. has been beaten.

Quick thoughts in the aftermath: If the Celtics end up winning this series, I'm pretty sure we've just witnessed the defining moment in Paul Pierce's career . . . The Celtics were excellent defensively, while the Lakers often looked disinterested. You wonder if that has something to do with the venue, but I tend to think it's just the teams' respective personalities . . . I didn't mention it much as the blog and game proceeded, but Rondo played a very steady game tonight for the most part. He looked like the veteran while Cassell made the young player mistakes . . . P.J. Brown was terrific. Can't emphasize that enough. But they will need a healthy Perk before this thing is over . . . The Ray Allen Redemption continued for the third straight game: 19 points, 8 rebounds, and a solid job on D . . . If the rest of the games are as dramatic and entertaining as this one, this series will be a classic on par with the ones that have been on ESPN Classic all week . . . Donny Marshall nails it with Cassell: "His game is like the New England weather." . . . The Lakers run the pick and roll beautifully, and they'll shoot better for sure, but the more I saw of Gasol and Odom tonight, the less impressed I was . . . Magic number: 3. Amazing, isn't it?

You know, just in case you're interested in reading about Perk's 34-point, 23-rebound performance in real time . . .

The date was June 8, 1986, and as a certain sequin-adorned singer popular at another Boston sporting venue likes to caterwaul, the good times never seemed so good.

(Bill Greene/Globe File Photo)

The Boston Celtics breezed to a 114-97 victory over villain-of-the-times Ralph Sampson and the Houston Rockets in Game 6 of the NBA Finals that glorious day, securing their 16th championship in 40 seasons, their third of the '80s, and their status as the decade's co-dynasty with the their glitzy opposites from the opposite coast, the Los Angeles Lakers.

Larry Bird, 29 years old and in all of his wispy-mustached, party-in-the-back glory, was at the peak of his powers, averaging 24-10-10 in the Finals and winning the series and regular season MVP awards (his third straight). Kevin McHale, Dennis Johnson, Robert Parish, Bill Walton, and Danny Ainge provided perhaps the most talented and cohesive supporting cast since Dr. Naismith first tacked up his peach basket.

The Celtics went 67-15 in the regular season, 15-3 in the postseason, and 50-1 at home overall. It was basketball as it was meant to be: selfless, breathtaking, freestyled, and aesthetically gorgeous. For fans who arrived in the post-Russell generation, it was as good as the game could possible get.

June 8, 1986. Man, it was lifetimes ago. Len Bias was nine days from having all of his dreams come true . . . and 11 days from snorting it all away. Reggie Lewis, a shy, skinny Northeastern senior-to-be with a sweet jumper and an ominous scar on his heart, was emerging as a talent to be reckoned with on the Huntington Ave. hardwood.

June 8, 1986. So much of the franchise's gloomy history had yet to be made. Charismatic Rick Pitino was finding success was a reality, if not quite a choice, just down I-95 in Providence. Tim Duncan was a 10-year-old in St. Croix harboring Olympic aspirations . . . in swimming.

June 8, 1986. The franchise's next triumphant trio was still in its formative years. Kevin Garnett probably spent afternoon recess terrifying the other Mauldin, S.C., third-graders with his wild-eyed intensity at hopscotch. Walter Ray Allen, a few weeks from turning 11, surely must have been the smoothest-shooting military brat in his class. And 8-year-old Paul Pierce was chubby, Laker-loving daydreamer in Inglewood (always up to no good), spending his childhood in the large shadow of his half-brother Steve, the family's first star athlete.

June 8, 1986. It's the official timestamp on the Celtics' last NBA championship. Four victories from another, it seems appropriate to retrace the steps of the journey.

* * *

In most ways, the Celtics' descent from the delirious high of 1986 didn't occur overnight. In 1986-'87, they won 59 games in the regular season and dumped Detroit in the Eastern Conference finals before losing the championship to Kareem, Magic and the finest Lakers club of the era in six games. No, it was more of a gradual decline, the kind that inevitably happens to franchises that cling to their aging heroes for sentimental reasons rather than trading them off and building anew.

In 1987-'88, the Celtics shuffled another step backward, winning 57 games and falling to the brash, ascending Pistons in the Eastern finals. The next season, Bird suffered a heel injury and played just six games, foreshadowing the premature end of his career after just three more seasons due to injuries.

While the Celtics remained one of the league's better teams until Bird's retirement after the 1991-92 season - they won at least 51 games each season he was healthy - they were no longer among the elite. The obvious became the reality: You just cannot replace Larry Bird.

* * *

(AP Photo)

Yet in a devastatingly tragic sense, their decline was an overnight occurrence.

Nine days after wrapping up the '86 title, the Celtics, due to a typical bit of shrewd dealing and foresight by Red Auerbach, had the incredible fortune of owning the second pick in the NBA draft. With the selection, they chose a chiseled, can't-miss 6-foot-8-inch specimen from the University of Maryland who just happened to grow up dreaming of playing for the Celtics.

It all seemed too good to be true; terribly, it was.

Less than 48 hours later, Leonard Kevin Bias, 22 years old and bursting with potential, was dead of a cocaine overdose. In one night of reckless stupidity in a college dormitory, the Celtics' future, a player so gifted and determined that he drew some favorable comparisons to a skywalking kid named Jordan by their Atlantic Coast Conference contemporaries, had become a cautionary tale for a generation.

Bias was supposed to be Larry Bird's heir; instead, he was gone before he even arrived. His ghost haunted the franchise through the lost '90s and beyond.

* * *

Bird wasn't the first of the '86 gang to bid farewell. Walton hobbled off into retirement after playing just 10 games in the '86-'87 season. Ainge was dispatched to Sacramento midway though the following season in exchange for 14 feet of mediocrity, and his backcourt partner DJ was nudged into a reluctant retirement after the '89-'90 campaign.

McHale, his aching feet by the end a chronic affliction, put his unmatched array of post moves in permanent storage after the '92-'93 season, at age 35. (He would, however, play a significant role in his old team's return to prominence a decade-and-a-half later.)

Remarkably, the Celtic who lasted the longest was the one who always seemed the most indifferent - or perhaps it was amused - when it came to the relative importance of the sport.

Robert Parish, bless his stoic mug, played 21 years in the NBA, finally retiring after earning his fourth championship ring as a member of the '96-'97 Chicago Bulls.

You fooled 'em. You fooled 'em all, Chief.

* * *

(NBA.com Photo)

As the Bird Era wound down and those World Champion '86 caricature t-shirts were tucked away in storage, the Celtics front office did its best to refurbish the roster with young talent. But the Next Generation failed to live up to the promise of its youth.

Dee Brown, the No. 1 pick in 1991, proved an inconsistent flash whose legacy was turning the dunk contest into a sneaker commercial. Brian Shaw, a lanky, bright, multi-talented guard, never seemed pleased to be here and found himself in an unbecoming contract controversy after his rookie season. And the most talented among the kids was felled by another unthinkable tragedy.

On July 27, 1993, Reggie Lewis, just 27 years old, dropped dead from a heart attack after a light workout at the Celtics' practice facility.

Earlier that spring, Lewis had collapsed on the court in a playoff game against Charlotte, and in the hazy aftermath he made the curious and fatal mistake of listening to the lone doctor who told him what he wanted to hear - that his flawed heart wouldn't prevent him from playing basketball again.

All these years later, the heroes and villains in that sordid mess remain difficult to distinguish, but this much we do know: for the second time in seven years, the Celtics lost a wonderful young basketball player - Lewis, an All-Star, a captain, a quiet, admired leader, had been the one to take the reigns from Bird, as Bias was supposed to do.

And once again, so cruelly, Celtic Pride was overwhelmed by tears.

* * *

Following Lewis's passing, the franchise fell into spiral of irrelevance and disrepair; hell, how could it not?

The Celtics became an insignificant afterthought as the NBA became someone else's party (Michael Jordan's, usually) and those who still tuned in to Mike Gorman and Tommy Heinsohn did so for love ofthe game rather than any particular attachment to the unappealing collection of players.

The Celtics' ill-conceived mid-'90s rosters dotted with the likes of Dominique Wilkins, who morphed into an inefficient gunner once his legs were no longer full of lightning, permanently vacationing Pervis Ellison, and Todd Day, perhaps the most unconscionable chucker ever to wear the green and white. (Think Sam Cassell without a single redeeming quality.) First-round picks included Eric Montross (a slow stiff) and Acie Earl (slower, stiffer). Even the venue changed for the worse, the decrepit but forever beloved Garden falling victim to a wrecking ball in '95, replaced by the antiseptic FleetCenter.

The Celtics officially scraped the bottom in 1996-'97, winning 15 games and losing 67 while giving the likes of Brett Szabo and Nate Driggers the opportunity to someday tell their grandchildren they played in the NBA without fibbing.

It was left unsaid by those executing the task, but the motivation for running out a helpless lineup night after night was apparent to anyone who had seen a Wake Forest game that season: this particular savior stood nearly 7-feet tall, possessed the footwork of Gino, featured a deadly old-school bank shot, and was calmly shredding the ACC.

He was the player to resuscitate the franchise for sure. If only a collection of ping-pong balls would cooperate.

* * *

It may not be the most sporting thing to do, of course, but tanking the season to get a shot at Wake Forest's Tim Duncan - the once-in-a-decade franchise big man who was a lock to be the top pick in the '97 draft - was far from a foolish strategy, as coach M.L. Carr just happened to be a natural at losing basketball games.

So perhaps it was karma, or the old adage about best-laid plans, but despite owning two lottery picks - the second coming from Dallas in a deal that involved the Montross albatross - and a 36-percent shot of winning the top pick, the Celtics did not get Duncan.

The moment the draft order was determined, and the cruel realization hit you that those damn fickle ping-pong balls had decided that the San Antonio Spurs, not the Celtics, would be getting Duncan, you undoubtedly howled like Charlton Heston upon realizing Soylent Green was made out of peeeeeeople.

It felt like a kick in the gut from a size-20 Nike, the ultimate test of your faith as a fan, and the consolation prizes - No. 3 pick Chauncey Billups, a guard from Colorado, and No. 6 selection Ron Mercer, a Kentucky swingman - consoled no one. Neither was capable of being the savior Duncan would have been.

Worse, a slick, self-styled savior newly arrived on the sidelines would only prolong the dark ages.

* * *

(AP Photo)

Maybe it wasn't all Rick Pitino's fault. He took the Celtics' job as coach and team president not long before the '97 draft lottery under the reasonable assumption he'd be coaching Duncan; no one should be expected to recover from such a massive disappointment with ease.

But Pitino, whose ego and wallet were both swollen from his enormous success at Kentucky, demanded instant gratification, and when it didn't come beyond a stirring opening-night victory over the World Champion Bulls, he proved to have the patience of a petulant toddler.

Pitino the personnel boss perpetually undermined Pitino the coach. (See: Knight, Travis, $22 million; Potapenko, Vitaly, $33 million; Mills, Chris, $33 million . . . must we continue?) Billups was dealt after just 51 games for overdribbling underachiever Kenny Anderson. Pitino, with typical disingenuousness, suggested he made the swap because Bob Cousy told him Billups would never be a point guard. (Cooz, of course, never likes any young playmaker at first.) Mercer, graceful but lethargic, was gone two years later.

Pitino's one shrewd personnel move - plucking Kansas's Paul Pierce with the 10th pick in the '98 draft - was a gift courtesy of nine other teams' incompetent scouting more than anything, as the future franchise cornerstone slid on draft night for reasons that have never adequately been explained.

(A year later, Pierce was stabbed 11 times outside a nightclub, and it must be noted that he avoided being a Bias/Lewis-level tragedy in large part due to the heroic efforts of teammate Tony Battie, who raced his profusely bleeding friend to the hospital.)

Even Pierce, a star from him first spin move on the parquet, couldn't help Pitino. His inability to win with the players he was providing proved his downfall, and after 3 1/2 seasons, 102 victories, 146 losses and one all-timer of a meltdown, he packed up his Armani suits, his unsold motivational books, and his snake oil, and walked out that door after a January 6, 2001 loss in Miami.

He returned to the lucrative security of the college game, where he's yet to make a bad trade and, to the best of the public's knowledge, there is no salary cap.

* * *

Once Pitino cut his losses, so to speak, the players' attitudes and their place in the standings instantly improved, curiously enough. Under longtime and anonymous Pitino assistant Jim O'Brien, a stickler for defense who in turn gave Pierce and Antoine Walker (a cornerstone who arrived in Carr's final season and possessed an odd array of skills and mostly good intentions) free rein on offense in exchange for their commitment on the other end of the floor, the Celtics went 24-24 the rest of the way in 2000-'01 after a 12-22 start.

O'Brien was promoted from interim coach the following season, which brought the Celtics their greatest recent success until now. Led by Pierce, Walker, and a hardnosed supporting cast (where have you gone, Erick Strickland?), the Celtics emerged as one of the league's pleasant surprises, winning 49 games, ending a six-year absence from the playoffs, and advancing to the Eastern finals, where they pulled off the greatest postseason comeback in NBA history in Game 3, rallying to win in the fourth quarter from a 21-point hole.

But they fell to the Nets in six games, and the unexpected success came a steep price: in an attempt to bolster their roster near midseason, they swapped first-round pick Joe Johnson, whom you may remember from his star turn in the recent Hawks series, to Phoenix for Tony Delk and Rodney Rogers, despite the Suns' willingness to accept eventual washout Kedrick Brown instead. Johnson became an All-Star; Delk and Rogers, while valuable contributors that postseason, soon became ex-Celtics.

A year later, the Nets bounced the Celtics a round earlier, and their revival in the weak Eastern Conference proved to be little more than a temporary tease.

* * *

Give Danny Ainge credit - he recognized as much before anyone else did.

It's funny now, but when he was hired as GM and executive director of basketball operations by fledgling owner Wyc Grousbeck in the midst of the 2002-'03 postseason, it was looked at as something of a curious move, a desperate, ill-timed grab for some reflected glory from the '80s.

Ainge did little to silence the skeptics when he traded the maddening but popular Walker to Dallas for passive big man Raef LaFrentz, his public justification being that he believed the team had peaked with that particular core of players.

A season later, O'Brien quit during the season because of a personality conflict with Ainge, and despite occasional success the next few seasons - the Celtics, under new coach Doc Rivers, a friendly rival from Ainge's playing days, won 45 games and slipped into the playoffs in 2004-'05 - serious contention seemed to be seasons away.

But while the results on the floor were mixed, Ainge was proving to be a deadeye when it came to spotting young talent, rarely wasting a pick while finding the likes of Al Jefferson, Kendrick Perkins, Delonte West, Tony Allen, Ryan Gomes, Rajon Rondo, and Leon Powe in the draft.

Little did we know his finest personnel masterstroke was yet to come.

* * *

The irony, of course, is that it took yet another piece of lousy lottery luck to restore the franchise to greatness.

The 2006-'07 Celtics season was their darkest in recent history, worse even than the Tanking For Tim year, which at least had a wink-wink, optimistic vibe to it thanks to the affable Carr. The pall was cast in late October, when the patriarch, Red Auerbach, passed away at 89. Pierce, increasingly frustrated by the relentless losing, injured his elbow and foot and missed 35 games, and the growth of some of the young players, particularly the clueless Gerald Green, proved stunted.

The Celtics lost a franchise-record 18 games in a row en route to a 24-58 record. Again, as they had a decade earlier, the Celtics hoped for some long-overdue luck of the Irish. Again, the ping-pong balls refused to cooperate.

Despite having the second-best odds at landing the top pick (19.6 percent,) and the right to choose between Ohio State redwood Greg Oden or polished University of Texas scorer Kevin Durant, the two perceived franchise players of the draft, the Celtics were stuck with the No. 5 selection.

The lottery deja vu was crushing. And so Danny Ainge went to work to guarantee that he'd never have to depend on the whims of silly plastic balls ever again.

* * *

(AP Photo)

You know how it all played out from here - hell, you've probably replayed it in the TiVo of your mind countless times during this improbably joyous season.

That No. 5 pick, which became Georgetown forward Jeff Green, went to Seattle along with Delonte West and Wally Szczerbiak's carcass in exchange for Ray Allen, a 32-year-old sharpshooter with ties to New England and a flawless reputation, and a No. 2 pick that turned out to be Glen Davis.

Allen's arrival not only assuaged Pierce, who openly and justifiably pined for capable veteran help, but it convinced disgruntled Timberwolves icon Kevin Garnett that Boston, which had been coveting him even before the draft, might not be an unappealing destination after all.

On July 31, with Garnett's blessing, Ainge and his old teammate, Minnesota GM Kevin McHale, consummated the deal that would - at last - restore the green and white to its greatest glory since they were still in uniform. Seven players, with Jefferson as the centerpiece, were sent to Minnesota in exchange for Garnett, a 10-time All-Star who played with uncommon intensity and selflessness.

Remember how you felt as you took in that introductory press conference, broadcast live on CSN, watching Pierce, Allen, and Garnett grinning and interacting like it was a reunion of lifelong friends? Remember how you had to keep saying it out loud to convince yourself, to wrap your head around the whole concept - "Holy bleep, Kevin Garnett is a Celtic"?

For the first time in a couple of decades, something that seemed too good to be true wasn't.

Sixty-six regular season wins (the greatest one-season turnaround in league history) and 12 more (and counting) in the postseason later, and it's funny: All those sins of the last 22 years? They are so much easier to forgive.

With four more victories, maybe we'll also forget.

Postgame overreaction while chanting "Beat L-A, beat L-A" for the first time in, oh, 21 years . . .

(AP Photo)

1. Wiping out the despicable Pistons en route to facing the glitzy Lakers in the Finals? What is this, 1987? Nope . . . turns out these are the good old days. In the delightful aftermath of the Celtics' 89-81 victory, we find ourseleves deliriously happy, not only as fans, but for the individuals who make up the freshly minted Eastern Conference champs - Perkins, Rondo, Posey, House, old P.J. Brown, even Doc Rivers, who deserves praise for the way he handled his team in this series. But I'm happiest for the Big 3 - and yes, it's perfectly cool to call them that at this particular moment. Ray Allen showed a champion's resilience, shooting the lights out in back-to-back games after some dopes (ahem) wondered if he should cede playing time after a miserable Game 4. Kevin Garnett remains the fulcrum of this franchise's astounding one-year transformation from 24-win punchline to 66-win beast of the east, his defense and intensity changing the team's entire persona. And of course, we're pleased for Paul Pierce. No. 34 was the best thing about this franchise for the better part of a decade, a legitimate star who never had a running mate better than Antoine Walker until this season. (Think about that for a moment and tell me you wouldn't have begged for a fresh start elsewhere.) Pierce pulled a Cornbread-like "Hop on my back, boys," tonight with an efficient (27 points on 12 field-goal attempts) and disciplined performance, and I imagine his satisfaction tonight feels a lot like vindication. As it should - Pierce deserves this. They all do, for they damn sure earned it.

2. Rajon Rondo's baseline jumper with a little more than 2 minutes remaining was the first time I was truly convinced the Celtics would win. But in my immediate recollection, the game's biggest play was James Posey's backcourt strip of Tayshaun Prince with 1:39 remaining and the Celtics up by 4. Posey's pickpocket brought any momentum the Pistons had screeching to halt, and appropriately, it was the just the type of smart, hustling play he's made all season as the absolutely ideal sixth man for this team. I'll say it once more: Landing Posey as a free agent might have been Danny Ainge's savviest move of all.

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Postgame overreaction while basking in the Jesus Shuttlesworth revival . . .

(Getty Images Photo)

1. Though it's not really my perspective, I understand where those old-school Celtics fans who view this particular team with a certain detached admiration are coming from. It's hard to have genuine affection for a team, even one as talented and successful as the one Danny Ainge has put together here, when they're still in the process of establishing their own legacy, becoming familiar . . . becoming ours, really. The 16 previous basketball champions in this city set the bar impossibly high, and with Kevin Garnett, Ray Allen, and even Paul Pierce, we're still in a prove-it-to-us mode. Which brings me to last night, and the first real signs in a while that these Celtics may be capable of living up to such standards. Our optimism isn't buoyed solely by Kevin Garnett's 32-point masterpiece, or Ray Allen's redemptive 29-point breakout, but by the way they accumulated those numbers: Garnett, who was more commanding down the stretch than his reputation suggests, buried a pair of dagger free-throws with 3.4 seconds left, and Allen fearlessly drilled a baseline jumper in the final minutes when the game was in danger of slipping from their grasp. Now that was a classic postseason play, one of those shots where the ball hangs in the air and time seems to freeze just long enough for you to say please-please-please go in . . . and it does. And there you have one of the first signature postseason moments for this team, one that causes even a skeptic's admiration to grow, a moment that, should this team go on to win the championship, will be replayed on the DVR in our minds for years to come.

2. Allen, of course, wasn't the only Celtic starter to enjoy a night of redemption. Kendrick Perkins, with 18 points and 16 (16!) rebounds, was an absolute beast pretty much from the opening tip, and those of us who were calling for Leon Powe to receive some of his minutes are glad to be proven wrong today. I'm fairly certain Bob Ryan would tell you Perk's performance was a page torn right out of the Paul Silas Guide To Proper Power Forward Play. Now let's see if Perkins can take the next step and play that well in Detroit.

3. He's got a long way to go to become the most despicable Piston of all time - Little Lord Fauntleroy still gets my vote, as genuinely great as he was - but after watching weaselly Rip Hamilton apparently blow out his elbow while putting the kung-fu grip on Ray Allen's throat, I'm ready to say he's in the starting five. I couldn't help but wonder, as he was duping Kenny (Look! At My Hair! I'm A Mini-Pat Riley! ) Mauer and the officials with his clutching-grabbing-flopping antics, that Johnny Most would have come up with an appropriate nickname for him back in the day. Probably "The Masked $*%*%**#*#" or something of that sort.

4. While poking around various basketball websites looking for answers as to why supertalented Rodney Stuckey lasted until the 15th pick in the 2007 NBA Draft (ridiculous answers I found: played at a small school, not dazzling athletically, possibly too short to play shooting guard, looks too much like 50 Cent), I noticed he was born April 21, 1986, which happens to be the day after Michael Jordan dropped 63 on the Celtics in Game 2 of the Eastern Conference quarterfinals. I'm not sure what the point is here, other than that Stuckey is young, I'm old, and it's been a long time since the Celtics won a championship.

5. As for today's Completely Random Basketball Card:

We're going with the late, great DJ today for two reasons: It seems appropriate to remember him after what can only be called the second-most stirring Game 5 playoff victory over the Pistons in Celtics' history, for he was the co-hero in the first. (Seriously, check out the degree of difficulty on this layup again, consider the circumstances, and tell me that's not one of the biggest pressure shots in NBA history.) As for our second reason, reader Mark H. sent along this Where Are They Now? flashback regarding the '86 Celtics from Steve Rushin's blog (Steve Rushin has a blog?), and it was both heartwarming and a little sad to be reminded again of the tremendous respect Larry Bird had for his longtime teammate.

Running a little short on time today - Mrs. TATB and the mini-Finns are on vacation, which means I'm not - so we're going to tweak the Starting Five format for this edition. Today's feeble attempt at basketball insight comes to you in the form of five burning questions regarding your Boston Celtics, followed immediately by our best attempt to answer them. As always, your wisdom is welcome in the comments . . .

1. I suppose Doc Rivers deserves some praise for being a little more disciplined with his bench usage in this series - he finally seems to be grasping the concept of a rotation - but wouldn't Leon Powe's strength and aggressiveness have been a decent counter to Antonio Mickety-Mickety-Mac McDyess last night? I honestly don't get why Powe, who played a Duerod-like 1 minute 17 seconds last night, is buried down there in Scalabrine Land. Even if there's some validity to the insinuations that he hasn't quite mastered the playbook, there's no denying that Powe has been one of the Celtics' most efficient players all season, he plays a physical style that might be the perfect antidote to McDyess's dominance on the offensive boards, and he has a knack for garbage points on a night when the frigid Celtics could have used a few. I'd have given him Big Baby's minutes, and maybe handful of Kendrick Perkins's as well.

2. Have we reached the point where Doc has to consider severely curtailing Ray Allen's playing time? There's no denying it anymore, even for Shuttleworth Apologists such as Donny Marshall and, well, me: Allen has become a legitimate problem, and it's time to start searching for solutions. After his 25-point performance in Game 2, he's been brutal two games in a row, and at this point you have to wonder if his lousy play is now the norm rather than the aberration. Last night, he was 2 of 8 from the field, missed all of his 3-point attempts, and even clanked a pair of free throws when the Celtics were trying to steal the game in the fourth quarter. Right now, Ray Allen can't shoot, and for one of the great perimeter players in the history of the league, that's as bizarre as it is alarming. It's apparent that something needs to change, though I'm honestly not sure what the solution is (and I doubt Doc knows, either). No one wants to see hyperactive Tony Allen on the court in meaningful situations, and I'd just as soon never see Chuckin' Sam Cassell check into a game again. Maybe the best idea is to give Eddie House a little bit more run at two-guard, and see if he can get on one of his hot streaks. Otherwise, sticking it out with Allen might be the best option, as worrisome as that may be.

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Getty Images Photo (top); AP Photo (above)

Postgame overreaction from a thoroughly enjoyable Game 3 . . .

1. I always thought the six-game road winless streak to start this postseason was, more than anything, a matter of fluke and circumstance; a talented, veteran team that won over three-quarters of its games away from home during the regular season simply doesn't forget how to win as the visitor. It's about time we finally had some proof to affirm such an opinion, and the Celtics could not have picked a better time to get that gorilla, as Paul Pierce called it in tonight's aftermath, off their backs. Save for a few tense moments here and there - the Celtics' casualness with a double-digit second-half lead nearly allowed a listless Detroit team to get back into the game - they were basically in control from the end of the first period (when they closed with a bench-fueled 10-0 run) to the final buzzer. Perhaps most encouragingly, it was a total team victory; of the three so-called stars, only Kevin Garnett (22 points, 13 boards) played consistently well (and truth be told, Ray Allen was brutal). Yet the defensive intensity rarely waned, six players reached double figures, and even Sam Cassell shook off the rust and made a couple of important contributions. All of that considered, even the most optimistic Celtics fan would have had a hard time imagining this one would go as well as it did.

2. It must be noted that the Celtics wouldn't be up 2-1 in this series without the (playoff) game of his life from Kendrick Perkins, who hit 6 of 7 shots, scored 12 points, collected 10 rebounds, and even knocked down a medium-range jumper. (Maybe he can offer Allen some shooting tips.) Just when I was starting to think that the savvy P.J. Brown should get the brunt of the minutes at center, Perkins submits a performance like this one, and I'm reminded of why his teammates seem to hold him such high regard: he's not the most athletic big fella around, but there are few who work harder.

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(AP Photos)

Man, the pregame yapping on ESPN isn't over yet, and I'm already hoping Stuart Scott suffers a career-ending larynx injury by halftime. Where are Ernie, Kenny, and Chuck when you need them? Right. Western Conference. They get all the fun. We get Captain Boo-Yeah and Jon Barry. It ain't right.

Anyway, I'm here, and this should be, well, interesting. I cranked out probably a dozen to 20 live blogs of Sox and Pats games in my 3+ years at the old TATB address, but this is my attempt at doing this for a hoops game. I'm not sure how conducive the sport is to the format - I'm worried the action moves too fast, except when Kendrick Perkins is involved - so I'm just going to try to limit the play by play as much as possible. Like Ray Allen teeing up a 3-ball, I'll take my best shot and hope it hits something.

Two key plot points tonight:

• Chauncey Billups's hammy: He claims he's 100 percent healthy, but his stat line after game one suggested otherwise. If he can't get into the lane, draw fouls, and use his strength to compensate for Rajon Rondo's quickness advantage, Game 2 will go much the same way Game 1 did for Detroit.

• Ray Allen's shot: The Celtics went out of their way to get their struggling shooter going early in Game 1, but he didn't hit a jump shot the entire game and finished with 9 points. I hope Doc Rivers is patient enough to try the same approach again, because I have a hunch Allen is thisclose to busting out of it.

"They'll get up, you gotta hit 'em again . . . they'll get up, you gotta hit 'em again . . . they'll get up . . . " I'll admit it. Doc's pregame speech got me fired up. I just slugged the cat. (He got up. I didn't hit him again.)

Okay, the lights are down, the new Garden is rocking like its beloved predecessor did 20 years ago, and KG's screaming like a maniac from the Jumbotron. Yep, must be a meaningful basketball game in Boston tonight. So nice to have that feeling again . . .

FIRST QUARTER
10:22 - Pierce knocks down a 3 off an Allen feed. Nice shot with a hand in his face, but I almost wish he'd given it right back to Allen there. Pierce likes trying to be the hero out of the gate, though.

7:18 - After Sheed is called for a foul on Garnett, he disputes the verdict with one of his favorite magic words and is slapped with his fifth technical of the playoffs. Dang. In the office pool, I had him getting his first T at 10:12 of the third. Should have known that was too late.

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Consider this my pathetic and transparent attempt to make up for having nothing posted after Game 1, but I'll be right here at 8:30 p.m. sharp as KG, The Truth, and the rest of Cs try to improve to 10-0 at home this postseason. I'll also be checking in on the comments from time to time, so be sure to pop in and add your two cents in real time.

(Spokesmodel M.L. Carr was not compensated and does not officially endorse this live blog. Because if he did, he'd be waving a towel.)

(Getty Images Photos)

Postgame overreaction while savoring The Truth's redemption song . . .

1. Whew . . . can we exhale yet? After this one, I think I'm sweating more than Kendrick Perkins. It felt like the Celtics' lead was no more than three points the whole game, and those 48 minutes were more tense than we would have liked - I was secretly hoping for a repeat of Game 7 from Hawks series, though hardly expecting it. But when the final buzzer sounded, the Celtics lived to play another day, thanks mostly to a phenomenal performance by Paul Pierce. The magnitude of Pierce's 41-point outburst can't be exaggerated; ol' No. 34 submitted perhaps the best and certainly the most important performance of his career. It seemed like every time the Celtics were desperate for points, he delivered them, whether it was a 15-foot step-back jumper, a rattled-in free throw, or a nothing-but-net bomb from three. He was a superstar in every sense today, and I do hope this effort at least temporarily silences the ignorant but vocal few who prefer to emphasize the silly negatives of Pierce's career while disregarding how dependable he has been, how there are few pure scorers in his class, how he is a rock of a teammate who usually tried to do the right thing, how he was often the one reason a lousy team was worth watching. You know Pierce deserves this, even as we must concede that the show was nearly stolen from him by the transcendent LeBron James, who scored an easy 45 points and damn near extended Cleveland's season by his own sheer will and unprecedented talent. While Pierce/LeBron didn't quite have the drama and one-upsmanship of Bird/'Nique '88, the duel was undoubtedly a classic, and we'll all remember this game for many seasons to come. Right now, I'm just relieved we'll remember it well.

2. As excellent as Pierce was, this season might be over without a steady performance from the bench, particularly P.J. Brown, who earned every dollar of his salary today with a outstanding stretch of play in the second half in which he scored four straight points, had a tap-back rebound that saved a key possession, and buried a huge jumper with just under two minutes left. And I couldn't possibly have more respect for Eddie House, who lost his minutes to nearly washed-up chucker Sam Cassell, stayed ready when lesser men would have checked out, and came through when his coach got the good sense to call on him again.

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The usual postgame overreaction while congratulating Tim Donaghy and Ronnie Milsap on a fine job of refereeing tonight . . .

(Getty Images Photo)

1. Okay, okay, some sour grapes in that intro there. While the Cavs certainly benefited from some home cooking, especially in the final minute - there's no #*$*#** way that was a charge on Paul Pierce, and it never would have been called a charge had the collision been with any other player besides LeBron - there are numerous other reasons the Celtics now face a win-or-see-you-next-season scenario Sunday. They couldn't keep the Cavs off the offensive boards in the first half . . . they weren't aggressive enough driving to the hoop (I'm tired of the Rajon Rondo slash-and-kick - take the layup, kid) and thus didn't get to the line enough . . . they missed a John Starks-like 16 straight shots late in the second and early in the third period during a ridiculous 24-2 Cleveland run . . . and with Paul Pierce (15 points, 6 turnovers) playing sluggishly, they couldn't buy an easy basket when they craved one. Kevin Garnett (25 points) was a rock, and he and his teammates deserve credit for nearly stealing the game after falling behind by as many as 15 points. But in the end it was one more lost opportunity, and once again we're left puzzled as to why a team that won 31 road games during the regular season is still drawing a blank this postseason. I do think they'll win this thing in 7, but I sure would feel better about their place in the current NBA pecking order had they'd done it in 6.

2. As aggravating as it is to watch him flop and whine like his name is LeBron Lemieux, it really is fascinating to watch the Cavs' superstar do his thing over the course of a long series. When his shot is falling, I feel like he will score every time he touches the ball - its downright unfair that someone that big is able to change direction so quickly and effortlessly - and yet he insists on playing selflessly, which turns mediocrities such as Joe Smith and Delonte West into formidable threats. He really is an amalgam of Magic and Jordan, and if he ever develops a consistent midrange jumper, there will be no stopping him. At the moment, LeBron would be pretty easy to root for if the Cavs were facing a different opponent and the refs weren't pulling for him as well.

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The usual postgame overreaction while wishing we could just skip Game 6 and bring it back to the Garden for Game 7 already . . .

1. Pretty decent Chris Paul imitation by Rajon Rondo tonight, wasn't it? The second-year point guard scored 20 points on 9-of-15 shooting, including huge back-to-back 3-pointers late in the first half as the Celtics rallied from an early and disheartening double-figure deficit, and most encouragingly, contributed 13 assists against just one turnover. It's fair to say at this point that if Rondo plays well, so do the Celtics. The inverse is also apparently true, which is why it's imperative that Doc Rivers shows confidence in him during his occasional bouts of Telfairitis, especially if he wants Rondo to perform as well on the road as he does at home. The kid is a much better and more confident player when he's not looking toward the bench to see if he's getting yanked out of the game after he makes a mistake.

2. So listen up, Doc, because this is how it needs to be from here on out. Rondo, whose 22-year-old legs can handle the workload, plays 38-plus minutes no matter what. Eddie House receives around 10 minutes a night to reclaim his role as the backup point guard/designated bomber. And Sam Cassell gets a reserved seat between Tony Allen and Big Baby Davis, where he can look goofy, wave a towel, continue his rapid calcification, and root on the guys who are actually going to play meaningful minutes.

3. Though he ranked a team-worst minus-10 on the interesting, occasionally telling, and somewhat contrived plus/minus scale during his 7 minutes of playing time tonight, I'm becoming convinced that P.J. Brown will be a legitimate asset to this team should their playoff run continue beyond the next two games. He's still a dependable shot-blocker and rebounder, and he always seems to be in the right place on defense, which is apparently a weakness of Leon Powe if you believe what Doc's broadcasting lackeys tell us. It's easy to see why the 38-year-old is still a respected player in the league, 16 seasons after he was selected behind the likes of Todd Day, Oliver Miller, Jon Barry, and Don MacLean in the '92 NBA Draft.

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Another helping of postgame overreaction while daydreaming that Danny Ainge will be coaching this team come Game 5 . . .

1. I'm trying my best to give Paul Pierce the benefit of the doubt for his performance tonight, and I suppose he did do a pretty effective job defending LeBron. But offensively . . . man, he was just a horror show. He took too many ill-advised, contested 3-pointers in a desperate attempt to play the hero, missed a key open layup, had no lift or acceleration going to the hoop, and generally performed like a one-man tribute to Antoine Walker. LeBron's mom made better on-court decisions than Pierce did tonight, and again, I couldn't help but wonder if he's in worse shape physically than anyone has let on. Heck, at this point I almost hope that's the reason.

2. Tonight's Undeniable Proof That Doc Rivers Should Turn In His Barely-Used Clipboard And Return To Broadcasting Immediately: Well, as usual there's plenty to choose from - do they even have any offensive sets for Ray Allen? - but I'm going to go with the most blatant blunder: his brick-skulled decision to play P.J. Brown and Big Baby Davis together for the first four minutes of the fourth quarter while Kevin Garnett rested on the bench. Brown played relatively well - and Doc, a master of self-preservation, made sure to point out as much in his postgame press conference - but Davis has no business being on the court for meaningful minutes in this series, let alone in the fourth quarter of a tight game. Garnett can rest in July.

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If you're looking for postgame overreaction, you've come to the right place . . .

1. Well, the only way that could have been uglier is if ABC had hit us with a few more Delonte West closeups. (All right, cheap shot. Forgive me. I just watched two hours of hideous basketball, I'm out of malt liquor and Smart Puffs, and I'm cranky.) Though I did keep expecting the Celtics to make a run that never really came, I guess it shouldn't be a surprise that Cleveland won going away. That's what quality basketball teams are supposed to do when they are playing their first home game in a series they are trailing. It's just that it was so - I don't know, alarming or frustrating or disappointing - to watch the Celtics play so lethargically pretty much from beginning to end, with the exceptions of Kevin Garnett and the admirable James Posey. The offense never found a rhythm and there was way too much one-on-one (and one-on-two) play, especially when Slingin' Sam Cassell was on the court. The defense was just as bad. Wally Szczerbiak and Delonte West got open looks all night, Joe Smith played well enough to almost convince Kevin McHale he was worth the five No. 1 picks, and Ben Wallace somehow shook off his osteoporosis long enough to score nine points and grab nine rebounds. Those four mediocrities combined for 63 points - 22 more than Garnett, Ray Allen, and Paul Pierce. That's inexcusable, and if those numbers aren't reversed in Game 4, this series is going to be tied, and we're going to continue to wonder why this team suddenly looks so disjointed and beatable on the road.

2. If Kendrick Perkins isn't going to bother to step up and cut off the driving lanes on defense - and tonight he was moving his feet like he was shuffling to the kitchen to start the first pot of coffee in the morning - then he shouldn't even bother taking his warmups off, because there's absolutely no reason for him to be on the court. Leon Powe might be undersized by comparison, but the effort is always there on both ends of the floor, and it doesn't take him the entire shot clock to gather himself for a dunk.

3. For someone who's built like an NFL tight end, LeBron sure has an aversion to contact - I think he dives more than all of the Montreal Canadiens combined. Though I guess I can't really blame him: His he-touched-me! whines are inevitably followed by a whistle. It's good to be the king.

4. I have nothing against West, who always played hard while he was here and gets the most out of his varied but limited skills. But I have to admit it annoys the hell out of me to watch someone I associate with an atrocious Celtics team light up this usually winning group. That's not how it's supposed to work. And that goes double for Szczerbiak.

5. As for today's Completely Random Basketball Card:

Yeah, he's a Cav in this picture (love the "Solid Gold"-inspired jerseys), but after what I saw of Cassell and Rajon Rondo tonight, I'm starting to think ol' Bags would be a decent point guard alternative in Game 3. (Okay, so it's not quite that bad . . . but man, the point guard play has got to be better on the road.)

A few Rondo-quick observations while wishing the Celts-Cavs tipoff would hurry up and get here . . .

1. Count me in the camp that is giving the Celtics a pass for their inconsistent - and nearly fatal - performance in the Hawks' series. In retrospect, Atlanta was a terrible matchup for them, a young, live-wire of a team with a nothing-to-lose attitude and a legitimate star, Joe Johnson, who played like he was hungry for vengeance against the franchise that gave up on him 48 games into his rookie season. Obviously, the series never should have gone seven games, but the guess here is that it will act as the wakeup call, and the Celtics team we see in the second round will look much more like the one we came to admire during the 66-win regular season. The prediction: Celtics in 6. You could tell me that LeBron will have a Jordan-in-'86-caliber series, and I still would refuse to believe that the Celtics will lose more than two games against a team that often depends on Wally Szczerbiak as its second option.

2. I suppose you could call me a Paul Pierce apologist, but I'm happy he got his moment of redemption with his steady and determined 22-point performance in Game 7. And frankly, he had to play that well, or he might have sufferered irreparable damage to his reputation. While I think Pierce is somewhat underappreciated around here, a classic case of a great player who becomes so familiar that you begin to emphasize what he can't do rather than all the things he can, there's no denying he has had a couple of Rasheed-style meltdowns in the postseason, and such antics are unacceptable from a player of his talent and importance. He's the captain, he's supposed to act like it, and I suspect that from Game 7 on, he will.

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A few semi-coherent pre-game thoughts on a certain suddenly vulnerable basketball team . . .

1. Doc Rivers is a swell guy who has charmed the Frito-stained Dockers off the local hoops media, but even his most ardent supporters have to admit he's getting his lunch handed to him by Mike Woodson in this series. And this isn't exactly Jerry Sloan we're talking about here; Woodson nearly lost his job on more than one occasion this season. It's safe to say Celtics fans' worst fears are on some level coming true here; namely, that Doc and only Doc could screw up this deep and talented basketball team. It goes without saying that we're all cool with Byron Scott beating him out for coach of the year at this point. Should the Celtics lose this series - and I do not believe that will happen, despite Doc's questionable substitution patterns and maddening inability to make the proper adjustments (see: Allen, Ray vs. Johnson, Joe) - he should be fired before the final buzzer. Hey, Larry Brown ought to be bored in Charlotte by then.

2. It's tempting to say Kevin Garnett needs to show us something tonight, but Mike Gorman made a great point on Felger's show today: KG shows us something every night, and the reason he doesn't take his game to another level in the playoffs is because he plays at the highest possible level every single time he takes the court, whether it's a suddenly crucial Game 5 in a first round playoff series or a mid-January grinder in Minnesota.

3. A "green out"? Really? I guess it's a good thing Red has already gone to the Great Humidor in the Sky, because if the cheerleaders didn't finish him off, this cheesy act of Orlando-style yahooism probably would.

4. The Hawks have no business being in this series, but I will concede they have more talent than you'd expect to find on a 37-45 team. Joe Johnson has long been one of my favorites (he's an underrated and clever passer), Al Horford has basketball intelligence beyond his years, and few players in the league can match up with Josh Smith athletically. With good health and incremental improvement of young players like Horford, Smith, and Marvin Williams, they could be a team to reckoned with for the next several seasons.

5. I'm not ready to declare the Sam Cassell trade a complete bust, but I will agree that a) he looks for his own shot way too often, and b) his plodding style is a terrible matchup against the athletic Hawks. He should be tucked away on the bench until the Celtics encounter Cleveland, where he'd looked positively quick so long as Wally Szczerbiak is hovering around the perimeter at the same time.

6. Johnson claims he barely remembers his half-season in Boston, but evidence is mounting that he remembers it rather well. There were a lot of whispers that Antoine Walker and Pierce didn't exactly treat him like the Third Amigo when he got off to a fast start in his rookie season, and if you look closely, you can almost see the chip on his shoulder.

7. It seems everyone but Doc knew he should have switched Ray Allen off Johnson in the fourth quarter of Game 4, but I have a hard time agreeing with the conventional wisdom that Tony Allen was the man for the job. He is an exceedingly dumb basketball player, and while he has all the skills defensively, he goes for pump fakes like a young Golden Retriever falls for the fake stick throw. I'd rather have seen James Posey, or even Pierce, get the assignment first.

8. I want to give Pierce the benefit of the doubt with this whole "menacing gestures" controversy, because I think he's generally a good and accountable person. But in the past, he's done some inexplicably stupid things in the playoffs when things haven't been going his way, so until he explains himself, there has to be at least some level of skepticism. A flat denial from him would go a long way right now.

9. Pierce does look like he's physically hurting - he seems to be wincing every time the camera catches him. Does anyone know if the Crips keep a chiropractor on staff?

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