A Celtics Blogger Christmas Carol: Chapter 3
By Kevin Henkin
With the Ghost of Christmas Present Commissioner Stern’s magical authority, we were instantly transported to the second floor of the massive ESPN Zone restaurant in Times Square, NYC. Our table faced a wall of televisions and was situated in between two massive screens that featured the highest profile games. On one screen, the Dallas Mavericks were playing the Phoenix Suns. On the other was a game between the San Antonio Spurs and the Detroit Pistons. A pretty young waitress swung by to take our order but the ghost shoed her away without explanation.
“What’s the matter?” I said. “The Tim Donaghy thing ruin your appetite for a couple of years?”
“Ah yes, very clever. You’re about as funny as a premature Michael Jordan retirement.”
“You want to hear some Donaghy jokes?”
“No, absolutely not.” He paused as he pursed his lips together. “Then again, I suppose I should at least be made aware of these poor attempts at humor. Go ahead.”
“How many Tim Donaghys does it take to screw in a light bulb?”
“I don’t know. How many?”
“Depends on the Vegas Over/Under.”
He shook his head in disgust. “If I were you, I’d stick to your day job as a panhandler.”
He checked his watch. “Alright, let’s get down to business. I’ve been assigned the unenviable task of helping you.”
“How so?”
“By giving you the briefest of tutorials on reality. A clue, if you will, on the current NBA landscape and how the best teams stack up against each other. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised by what you hear. Let’s start out by watching these two games here for a few minutes, where you will see a showcase of the finest basketball players in the world competing at the highest level. Then we can discuss.”
While I watched, the ghost took three phone calls, made four of his own and scrolled through his Blackberry furiously throughout. After a few minutes, he shut the power off his communications devices and slipped them back into the breast pockets of his natty suit jacket.
“See that game there?” he said, pointing to the contest between the Pistons and the Spurs. “Tell me what you see.”
“Well, to begin with, I see two teams that know how to win. Not only games, but championships. I see teams that are greater than the sum of their parts, that have the requisite talent but win because their star players are unselfish and are supported by some key dirty work role players.”
“Fine, yes, very deep. You should consider starting your own blog someday when you grow up.”
“But I already do have my own-“
“Yes, yes,” he said, waving me off. “I’ve seen it. So you have an internet provider and a keyboard. Congratulations. I get around to looking at all of these little cesspools of cyberspace sooner or later. Which reminds me, get rid of that Celtics logo on the top of your front page. Its use without the expressed written consent of the National Basketball Association is strictly prohibited. Trust me. I have a room full of lawyers just waiting for my permission to ruin your life.”
“Sounds like good material for your new commercials,” I said. “The NBA: Where a Threatening Commissioner Happens.”
Ignoring me, he said, “Getting back to the matter at hand, let me tell you what I see. I see a San Antonio team that may or may not be running on fumes. We won’t know for sure until the playoffs. Tony Parker remains young but otherwise there are concerns about age and mileage. Manu Ginobili may only be twenty-nine but his many years of extra play on behalf of his country have made him more like a player well into his thirties. Bruce Bowen, once one of the premier defenders in the league, now makes up for his lost steps with cheap shots and thuggish play. Tim Duncan, although never much reliant on his athleticism, has also been slowed a step or two. And, he’s showing signs of being prone to injury. Detroit faces similar age issues and they still clearly miss what Ben Wallace once provided them. And they’ve done nothing significant to upgrade since their playoff dismissal last season.”
“What about Dallas and Phoenix?”
“If NBA titles were handed out for the most regular season wins, they’d certainly be among the favorites. Look, they are both very talented teams and Dallas made a few moves to address their inexplicable collapse against the Warriors. They both certainly belong in the discussion of legitimate title contenders. That said, Dallas still needs to demonstrate some mental toughness and Phoenix has ego, personality and chemistry issues.”
“What about the Celtics?” I said.
He shook me off. “Look, I’m not here to offer you guarantees or even likelihoods that the Celtics will succeed come playoff time. I’m here to convince you that our league offers a very desirable level of parity, far more so than the current NFL or in baseball. Everyone could pick the Spurs to win every year and yet San Antonio has not repeated on any of their four titles. In this league, all that matters is that your team is in the hunt come playoff time, and yours has finally reached that level. Good enough?”
“Maybe,” I said. “It’s just that all these other contenders, however flawed they may be, have at least been playing together for awhile now. They’re seasoned and battle-tested in the playoffs. The Celtics are not.”
“More fretting,” he said, then paused to consider is options. “I’m afraid you’ve left me with no choice.” He flipped open his cell phone and said, “Initiate Operation Zeke.”
When our summoned guest suddenly materialized in front of our table, I let out a horrified shriek. Because we were in New York City, nobody seemed to notice.
The Ghost of Stern seemed pleased with my reaction. “As a Celtics fan,” he said, “I’m sure you’ll recognize The Ghost of Isiah Thomas.”
This time, my scream drew the attention of everyone in the room.
To be continued…
