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January 31, 2004
Exercises In Sports Mismanagement
This afternoon, out of the blue, I was offered a chance to go to a Celtics game. I knew that my company has pretty good seats, and dinner was included because we were taking customers out, so I gladly accepted. It wasn't until I checked the schedule that I realized I was to be treated to the Knicks game. Both teams have somewhat controversial new team presidents and both teams have new head coaches. Both teams also appear to be headed into lengthy rebuilding phases. Without further ado, here are some of my more interesting observations from the game I have dubbed "The Ainge Experiment vs. The Isiah Experiment":
Our seats were in the 3rd row behind the basket on the visitors' end of the court. It's really amazing how big all the players look when you're at floor level and only 20 feet away.
During the Knicks' warmup, it occurs to me that I could pick maybe four of the Knicks players out of a police lineup: Marbury, Van Horn, Motumbo and Penny Hardaway. Hey, wait a minute, Penny Hardaway plays for New York now?
Oops. Turns out that the guy I thought was Marbury is actually Shandon Anderson. Shandon is wearing those ugly new orange and white Reeboks. I also notice Allan Houston sitting on the bench in street clothes.
During warmups, Penny Hardaway is standing by himself at the top of the key, dribbling the ball and looking as though he doesn't have a friend in the world. It's pretty sad. If Kobe goes to jail, Commissioner Stern should see to it that Penny winds up in L.A. I always liked him better in the role of "Shaq's sidekick."
It's time to get the fans pumped up for the Celtics' starting lineup, so the lights go down and the jumbotron starts showing highlights from seasons past. And they've all been edited as though Antoine Walker never existed. In a more positive note for the franchise, they now have enough recent footage that they don't have to show 20 year old footage of Bird and McHale any more.
I have absolutely no idea who the Celtics' starting point guard is. None.
The game gets underway, and as players begin to sub in and out, I suddenly realize that the Knicks' have collected a whole bunch of "whatever happened to that guy" guys. They have Penny and Michael Doleac and Shandon Anderson and Othella Harrington. Who knew that Othella was still getting paid to play basketball?
Mark Blount seems to be the only Celtic who can put the ball in the basket. Neither team is shooting the lights out, but Blount is the only thing keeping the Celtics in it.
Every time out, these ushers in light blue sport coats appear, seemingly out of nowhere, and stand between the seats and the court. They're a bit creepy, because I can't figure out where they are when the game is underway.
The Celtics replace their starting point guard that I've never heard of with another point guard that I've never heard of.
The NBA now makes it a point to fill every bit of dead time in the game with some sort of pseudo-entertainment. During the course of the game, we were treated to a $77,777 three point shot, some guy trying to launch a balled-up t-shirt through a target in the upper deck, some sort of dance troupe, Lucky the mascot dunking off of a trampoline, some kid shooting basketballs into shopping carts for charity, a community hero award to a safety officer who kept some nut from jumping off of the Tobin Bridge, little dolls parachuting from the rafters with gift certificates and a hilarious race between three little kids who had to stop at various points along the way and put on pieces of Celtics uniforms that were way too big for them. The best part was that the kid wearing the Dolphins jersey almost won. I halfway expected some drunk moron in a Pats jersey to come running out the stands and tackle the kid.
The Knicks sub for Marbury and, hey, it's Moochie Norris! Unfortunately, Moochie hasn't brought back the 'fro.
The second half is rolling along, and things are getting even worse for the Celtics. Paul Pierce is completely tilted. He's made one basket all game, and near the end of the third quarter, he misses a wide open dunk. Walter McCarty and Jiri Welsch are the only Celtics making anything happen.
By the middle of the fourth quarter, it's garbage time. The Knicks are up by 25. Lenny Wilkins starts to empty the bench. Paul Pierce looks like a Stockholm Syndrome victim. He is now being openly booed by the Fleet Center crowd. If Danny Ainge were to stroll onto the court right now, he'd be pelted with everything that isn't bolted down.
We make a break for it with around five minutes left in the game. The ride back to Portsmouth is generally uneventful. There's only one more thing worth mentioning about this evening. My buddy from work dropped me off at the office so I could retrieve my car. As I'm driving home, I see a taxi cab pull up in front of the adult book store alongside Route 4. The passenger jumps out and runs inside. Taking a cab to buy some porn at 10:30 on a Friday night; yep, somebody's living the good life.
Posted by Dan at January 31, 2004 12:34 AM
It was 10:05 on Friday night, dammit.
Posted by: mg at February 2, 2004 04:38 PM
What's even funnier to contemplate is why the guy didn't just drive himself, and how that might relate to his decision to go porn shopping on Friday night. Discuss.
Posted by: Dan at February 2, 2004 05:05 PM
He could have saved the cab money to pay for Internet access, then just downloaded all the porn for free... Hypothetically, I mean. Not like I do that...
Posted by: miles at February 3, 2004 09:01 AM
If you're the governor of a state, everyone knows what your car looks like.
Posted by: mg at February 5, 2004 10:12 AM
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