On Sunday night, I went to the Fours, hoping to be “in the shit” when the Celtics clinched the first championship of my lucid lifetime. Obviously they didn’t win, but the evening was not without highlight. Sitting across from me on the Orange Line to go back home was a visibly intoxicated Celtics fan in a Ray Allen jersey, about 18-years old or so, audibly yelling “BULLSHIT” every five seconds, while spitting on the windows. His friend, in a gray Paul Pierce jersey, nodded in agreement and then proceeded to pull out some rolling papers and pot. He then proceeded to break up said pot and roll a joint, which he and Spitball Sullivan then shared. In Public. On the T. These two goofballs then proceeded to walk up and down the aisle, offering up their joint. I’m not even kidding. They then proceeded to tell me (without prompting) that they had spent the night drinking under fake IDs, and that they stiffed the bartender at Beer Works. Lucky for me, they also got off at my stop, and the last I saw of Douche and Doucher, they were pissing in the parking lot of Oak Grove station, before hopping in a tricked-out F-150 and driving away erratically.
Yet, for some reason, witnessing the antics of Mickey and Sully O’Yahdood gave me comfort for tonight’s Game 6 at the Garden. Yes, the Celtics lost a game that they could have won. Yes, it was disappointing and possibly dangerous to let a Laker team this talented hang around for one more game. Yes, I’m concerned about the rash of injuries that’s seemed to pop up during this series. But there’s still no reason to lose your shit, stiff a bartender, and smoke a joint on the Orange Line. The C’s are up 3-2. The next two games are at home, where the C’s are 48-7 this year. The Non-Caucasian Three has looked quite Big this series, and there’s no reason to think they won’t keep it up tonight. Things, to paraphrase the Dude, are not Fucked here.
My prediction: Celtics 92, Lakers 85. And I can’t wait to see what the Orange Line will be like if that happens.