The Coronation

It wasn’t so much a victory as a coronation. Early on, it might have seemed close, but the Celtics were tied with the Lakers midway through the first period, even though they started 3 for 15 from the floor. Twenty per cent. And yet, when the quarter ended, they were up four, not down twenty-one. That huge run in the second quarter left them up by twenty-three at the half, and although Dwayne Wade pronounced it over, and was ready to present the trophy to the Cs even before the final half was played, I kept thinking that we had seen a twenty-four point deficit erased, on the road, in this very series. So the start of the second half would set the tone.

Forget about it. When the Lakers showed no signs of life coming out of the locker room after half-time; when the lead was pushed to thirty in the third; it became clear that it was all over, that it was just a matter of letting the clock run down. The final quarter was like a party, first with the Cs dancing all over the Lakers on the court, and then with the big three celebrating along with Doc Rivers in front of the bench.

I was pleased with the performance of the Celtics’ fans. Out in LA, even when the Lakers were playing well, the crowd seemed tepid. Like the big deal might be which celebrity you got to sit near, not how the team was doing on the court. And worse, when the Lakers gave up huge leads in games four and five, the crowd went silent. Silent. It was louder at the opera a week ago. By way of contrast, the Celtics fans were up all night, chanting “Defense, Defense”, even late in the third period when their team was up by thirty. Every one of Ray Ray’s threes led to an eruption; chants of “MVP” or “Beat-LA” sounded all game long, until the crowd serenaded the Lakers Good-Bye in the fourth. By then it seemed no one was sitting, not even with a forty point margin.

I also found the Celtics’ intensity and drive a welcome relief from the blasé attitude that permeates many NBA games. Yet that intensity did not lead KG or Pierce to scream at their teammates when things weren’t going well. Kobe’s tantrums get excused as leadership, but what kind of leader chews out his team publicly when things go wrong? Does anyone scream on Kobe when he misses seven shots in a row? Or how about Vujacic pouting all the time, on the court after Posey hammers him, or on the bench after Phil yanks him? I also can’t buy into Kobe playing the role of daddy for his little girls, as if he’s making a Coke commercial every time a game ends. It looks so staged and phony to me. Maybe he is a good dad, who knows? And maybe he did read that stupid Harry Potter story to his girls after his team tanked in Game Four. But to me, all of this seems like nothing more that a self-absorbed guy, trying to endear himself to an alienated public.

Here’s the final thing, for all the conspiracy theorists out there. The Finals were stained, for the first couple games, by new allegations that refs had fixed playoff games in years past. Especially the Lakers’ dramatic comeback win over the Kings in the western Finals. (Just like the Lakers to win by cheating, don’t you think?) Well, last night, as the Celtics won their 17th championship, on June 17, with Pierce scoring 17, and number 17 – Havlicek- in the Garden (or whatever it’s now called), Joey Crawford reffed the game wearing, you guessed it, number 17. Is that a sign, or what? I like that 17 is a prime number, and that two 17s add up to Pierce’s number. And we could probably go on all night this way, but instead, I think I’ll go celebrate, once more, and this time with Macallan’s 17. That should be the new official whisky of the Boston Celtics, even though it’s Scotch, not Irish. At least until we break out the Highland Park 18. Does that make sense?