In the city where I grew up, there is an allure with the Friday after Thanksgiving that brings both residents and expatriates together in an annual rekindling of friendships that were long ago separated by the tugs of college and growing up. In keeping with the native tradition, this past Friday evening found me back home in a sports pub at an impromptu rendezvous with some old friends, the product of carryover euphoria generated by our high school reunion this past summer.
We filled two tables in a corner by the window, right under one of five widescreens about the pub. Conversation was energetic and laced with reminiscences, while Shrek was broadcasting just above our heads to a casually attentive audience of toddler-aged parents occupying some interior tables or passing through to the head. A friend at our table has a son who just graduated boot camp, so we called it the head all night.
As we waited on appetizers, a member of our party grew restless and sought out someone who could flip on the Celtics/Knicks game. I urged him to relax, knowing the tempering effects the Celtics have on a potentially good time. Things were fine until two guys sat down at a nearby table. They asked for two beers and the Celtics game before even taking their menus.
These days, it is almost impossible to go into any establishment in New England and find two distinct parties both wanting Celtics basketball on the widescreen, sports pubs included. However, some hysteria still lingered after a recent three-game winning streak that brought Boston within a game of the Atlantic Division lead. So the game was tuned in — on all five screens.
A change immediately came over our party. Sentences were stopping in mid-thought, eyes were looking up or beyond the table for the latest score update. It was then that I realized how far I'd grown apart from the others. My friends are still Celtics fans, while I have moved on.
Sure, I prefer Boston to win. I also prefer onion rings with my burger, but when the waitress brought mine with fries, I didn't scrape them off. And if I had to look up and see green on the widescreen all night, I'd prefer it be Shrek.
For my indifference, I endure the tongue-lashings of friends who feel betrayed by my disloyalty to the franchise that bestowed us with two championships during our high school years. Of course, it wasn't entirely my decision to part ways. I've grown, and so have expectations for me to forge long-term plans and make all those necessary alterations along the way to provide for my dependents. Although I'm held accountable for the bottom line, I've learned that the processes I employ in getting there have a lot to do with building trust.
Yet the Celtics, through a succession of incongruous front office and court leadership, have become a perennial re-inventor of the wheel. For over a decade, they've lacked any sense of a rebuilding plan, even as the Los Angeles Lakers are underway with their second championship-caliber remodel. High first-round draft picks that come with constant losing line their rosters like toys line the FAO Schwarz shelves in preparation for the Christmas shopping season. More often than not, these picks are like so much inventory used to acquire overvalued veterans — Vitaly Potapenko, Kenny Anderson, Vin Baker, Jiri Welsch, Raef LaFrentz, Ricky Davis — who, in turn, breed further losing seasons. Last year's was their 10th in the past 13.
Those who stay — 10 members of the 15-man active roster are 24 or younger, nine of whom have two years or less NBA experience — are prone to the curses of youth: defensive lapses, bad shot selection, inconsistent play, easily broken intensity.
Friday's game was a typical of this syndrome, with Boston taking an early lead, losing it, going up by eight in the second quarter, yet finding themselves down by five at half-time. They fell apart completely in the second half and lost by 24 to a 4-9 Knicks squad who they had beaten 15 times in their previous 21 meetings. Epitomizing the impatience and inexperience of youth, Boston continued settling for treys rather than working the ball low, hitting on just 4-of-21 all night. In the never-settled world of Celtics basketball, 12 men split action, ranging from 9 to 32 minutes.
Yet, despite falling to 4-8, Boston would remain one game behind the first-place New Jersey Nets by the end of the night, and that was cause for merriment. With the distraction removed, the widescreen was tuned back to the movie channel where Shrek II was now airing, and we resumed our reunion festivities. Before parting, I joined in the group resolution to keep in touch with the old friends, although I'm not yet ready to include the Celtics in that group.
Leave a Comment