Thursday, November 13, 2008
at 1:06 PM Posted by GHABB,Y~!
Welcome to the initial installment of the year of Celtics This Week, in which I overanalyze our World Champion Celtics as they crush their enemies, see them driven before you, and hear the lamentations of their women:
Overall Impressions: The C's have gone 4-0 in the last week, and are riding a six-game winning streak. The team is 8-1 on the season, tops in the Eastern Conference. Along with the 6-0 Lakers, the C's are the Big Swinging Dicks of the NBA, showing no signs of letting up after last year's Epic Win of a season. They've beaten easy teams (Milwaukee, OKC, Chicago), tough teams (Detroit, Houston, Cleveland) and teams that were ridiculously hot and forced them to play balls-to-the-wall in the fourth quarter (Atlanta, Toronto). I could not imagine the first tenth of the season to have gone any better.
MVP of the Week: Paul Pierce, may you never have to buy a drink, meal or prostitute in this town ever again. You are a Golden God of the highest order, solidifying your place as one of the greatest ever Celtics on a nightly basis. With a severely sprained shooting hand, you have scored 70 points in the last two games, including last night's last-second jumper over Al Horford to win a game that a) the other team was NBA Jam-like in its shooting prowess and b) the refs were fucking you over at every opportunity. If I were to create my own personal Mount Rushmore of Awesomeness, you would be up there with Tim Tebow, Larry Bird, Chuck Klosterman and Eddie, the mascot of Iron Maiden.
LVP of the Week: It's somewhat hard to find shittiness in a 4-0 week, but I've been remotely disappointed so far with the play of one Eddie House. I expected House to take on more of a scoring load this season with James Posey gone, especially from behind the arc. Instead, House has responded by shooting 35% from the field, and a disgusting 22% from three-point range. Thankfully, Tony Allen has picked up the bench scoring load, but long-term, we're going to need more of a contribution from House on nights where the guards are having trouble scoring.
Best Game of the Week: Hands down, last night's Atlanta game was the contest of the half-fortnight for the Celtics. Atlanta came into the Garden hot (a 6-0 start), and confident (they took the C's to seven games last year). They then proceeded to shoot the fucking lights out, including 59% (holy shit!) from three-point range. Every referee call seemed to go their way. They were forcing the C's to take bad shots (Allen and House were 2-16 from three on the night). Yet the Celtics, powered by humongous testicles and brawn, kept fighting, coming back, and hitting timely shots to stay in the game and eventually pull it out in the end. I'll say this though: Atlanta is For Fucking Real. That team is disgustingly talented at every starting spot, though painfully thin on the bench. Provided the starters stay healthy, I could see them earning a top 4 spot in the East come playoff time.
Opposing Player that I Absolutely Loved This Week: Quick memory test: What did the C's get in return for Joe Johnson? Stumped? Try Rodney Rogers and Tony Delk, both of whom were average-to-below average players, but certainly not worth giving up an ultratalented top-ten draft pick for. Johnson right now is a 25-5-5 waiting to happen every night. He makes clutch shots, sees the court, and rebounds extremely well for his position. He's seventh in the league in scoring. Meanwhile, Rodney Rogers is probably sitting by some pool right now, eating imitation Little Debbie Swiss Rolls, weighing roughly 350 pounds. Could you imagine this Celtics team with Joe Johnson? They'd be un-fucking-stoppable.
Opposing Player that I Absolutely Hated This Week: I had the pleasure of going to Friday's game against Milwaukee, and got to witness the sheer wrath of Luke Ridnour live and in person. He is maybe the worst point guard I've ever seen, and I'm counting the kid who played point guard for the Danvers Hot Shot 4th grade Lakers, who didn't actually have the arm strength to pass a ball more than five feet. My girlfriend, who was at the game with me, quickly started referring to him as "Butterfingers McPastyskin." The stats will show that he had 12 points, four assists and only four turnovers, but if there was a stat for "mental fuckups and general shittiness," he'd have set an NBA record that night. He blew basically any and every defensive assignment, made passes that put his teammates in a terrible position to score the ball, and decided to shoot at the most inopportune times possible. I would literally punch him in the face within five minutes if he ever was on my pickup team. Richard Jefferson will probably be found dead by the end of the year in his garage with the car motor running, with a suicide note that read "I played with Jason Kidd for years...and now this? Goodbye cruel world, I cannot live with this fate any longer."