The Celtics, who have experienced their last hurrah for this season, though they have three games left to play, were teed up 5 times last night?
Did it cost them the opener in their conference final against Miami?
Hardly. Boston is battered. From age. From a long season. From Miami, which is playing hungry.
The LeBrons, even without Chris Bosh, are playing with purpose. James and his South Beach runnin’ podner D Wade seem to have found symmetry on the court, knowing instinctively when one or the other needs to take charge. The Heat will be playing in the Finals.
I’m not sure if all those Beantown technicals indicate a team on the brink of falling apart? Or a trio of zebras with rabbit ears? Or both?
What I do know is that the Celts are not going to win a game in this series if Ray Allen only goes 3/7 from the line and 1/7 from the field. Period.
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The inevitable demise of the Boston’s Big Three — forget Rajon Rondo for a moment — due to age and battle fatigue, got me to thinking. Which NBA team still eligible for this year’s title has the top trio?
I know it’s no longer Garnett, Pierce and Allen.
It could be James, Wade and anybody else on the Heat, even if Bosh doesn’t make it back. (Though my guess is he’ll suit up for the Finals.)
Durant, Westbrook and Perkins form a formidable triad for the Thunder.
But my vote goes to the also aging but still resonating Alamo Amigos: Duncan, Parker and Ginobili. Rejuvenated after a couple of seasons in which the former champs weren’t legit contendas, the Spurs are back. Seems like they haven’t lost since George Gervin wore the black and silver. (Actually they’ve won ONLY 19 in a row. The Lakers beat them on April 11. Nobody’s outscored them since.)
The Western Finals are truly compelling. A cowboy, run and gun shootout. The young guns from Oklahoma. The grizzled and wily hot shots from Texas. I like both teams, but find myself cheering for San Antonio. They just play the game. Without ego. Without chest thumps. With style.
Okie City will win a title soon enough. Just not this year.
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For the first time ever, I watched the Grand Prix of Monaco on Sunday morning. I’ve never been much fascinated with F1 racing, at least Monaco which is the only one I’ve ever paid even the slightest bit of attention to. Because it seems like the guy on the pole always wins, given how difficult it is to pass on Monte Carlo’s narrow streets.
What I concentrated on when watching this year was how difficult it is to master those corners and speed changes and braking distances. How physically demanding that driving must be for 78 laps. Pretty stunning actually. And, obviously, more difficult than driving in circles. (Though doing that at 200 mph takes plenty of talent.)
What I didn’t understand was how the F1 drivers can control those vehicles so adroitly with bald tires. Until my F1 support guy, George Jefferson (Not his real name but, yes, the fellow you’ve seen chicaning through Floyds Knobs at speeds way beyond the speed limit.), explained that it’s about getting the most rubber on the road for better traction. Any tread in the tire eliminates some contact.
While the new Indy Car setups this year made for much more passing, for the first time ever, I was a little bored with the driving in circles.
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And, crossing my last T for this Tuesday, I would be remiss if I didn’t call out UK baseball coach Gary Henderson.
After the one time #1 Cats didn’t get a top 16 NCAA tourney seed and were sent off to Gary, Indiana for a regional, Henderson didn’t mince words. “We got screwed,” said coach.
Hmmm. Well, coach, let’s see if your nine can prove it on the field.
– Seedy K