Raymond Williams – Why I Hate The Celtics
In the mid-90s, it was the Utah Jazz.
I hated Karl Malone – how he got away with dirty plays, beating the hell out of other players, then tumbling to the ground when they bumped back; how he flexed his muscles after dunks; how he gave idiotic responses in interviews.
I hated John Stockton – how his altar boy image concealed a player as dirty as Malone. I hated how Utah coach Jerry Sloan intimidated referees into a few favourable calls every game.
God I hated the Jazz.
A few years later, the San Antonio Spurs replaced Utah on my dartboard. Tim Duncan was the dullest superstar I’d ever seen, a robot, a cyborg. Manu Ginobili was exciting to watch…when he wasn’t picking himself up after flopping. The Spurs won championships in a cold, clinical way. I hated that. I watched them win again and again. My hatred became a supernova.
And that’s the thing with teams you hate: they have to be good.
Which leads me to the Boston Celtics.
Before Ray Allen and Kevin Garnett arrived at the Celtics in 2007, I didn’t hate Boston, I didn’t care about them at all. Paul Pierce led a bunch of nobodies, a squad that would never win anything important. But with Garnett and Allen joining Pierce and Rondo, the Celtics became a contender.
At first, I simply disliked them because they beat the Lakers in the Finals, and I’m a Kobe fan. But in the years following, my hate began to burn pure and strong. And it was Kevin Garnett who ignited that fire.
Garnett reminds me of Karl Malone, someone who maintains a rep among casual NBA fans as a wholesome superstar, while dropping a cheap shot on someone every game. Look up KG on YouTube and watch his antics towards Al Jefferson and LaMarcus Aldridge, the uncalled elbows he throws at Joakim Noah, the charming way he grabs Bill Walker by the throat. There are few whistles to accompany any of this, partly because Garnett is sly about it, partly because refs tend to give stars a loose leash. What makes a Celtics game all the more infuriating to watch is when, on the rare occasion Garnett does get caught doing something illegal, Doc Rivers appears, palms to the sky, incredulous at what the refs have called.
Doc personifies the delusion that exists within the Celtics franchise. He seems to have defended his players so often that he’s convinced himself they do nothing wrong. Refs will occasionally catch one of Garnett’s dirty screens and call a foul. And here comes Doc, stunned by the call, while an opposing guard is being scraped off the ground.
When Kendrick Perkins missed Game Seven of the 2010 Finals due to injury – a game in which the Lakers won the title – Rivers said: “They still have not beaten our starting five”.
A comment which ignores that LA were without starting centre Andrew Bynum for most of the playoffs and all of the Finals. Delusion.
This madness runs through the veins of the Celtics organisation, through players and coaches and executives. Most teams will try and defend their players against the possibility of fines or suspensions, but the way Boston does it suggests an arrogance and demented belief that they can actually get away with it. When Paul Pierce was caught making a gang sign after being taunted by the Hawks’ Al Horford, the Celtics hilariously defended Pierce by claiming the sign referred to “Blood, sweat and tears”, the team’s motto for that season. Because that’s what you’d flash at an opponent in a moment of anger
“Mr Horford, I refer thee to my team’s motivational phrases, take that, sir”.
Garnett got caught calling the Pistons’ Charlie Villanueva – who, due to alopecia, is bald – “a cancer patient”. Garnett’s defence was something only a franchise as deluded as Boston could try and get away with: “My comment to Charlie Villanueva was in fact ‘You are cancerous to your team and our league'”. A surprisingly highbrow form of trash talk from a player who TV cameras don’t dwell on for fear of him dropping an F-bomb on a live broadcast.
This Bostonian madness even extends to former players, such as the recently retired Keyon Dooling. When Dooling got to talking of his former team-mates, he showed his respect for Rajon Rondo’s game, considering him the second-best player in the league. After Kevin Durant. Ignoring that James guy in Miami.
I hate the Celtics so much. I hate Rondo’s aloofness; I hate Pierce’s cockiness; I hate that Celtics executive Danny Ainge threw a towel during a game to distract an opponent shooting free throws; I hate homer announcer and former Celtic Tom Heinsohn, the most biased announcer I’ve ever heard.
Times have changed, but my hatred keeps burning. I disliked Leandro Barbosa when he was with the Phoenix Suns and would disappear in playoff games against the Spurs, so I’m glad he’s now a Celtic. I hated Darko Milicic from back in the days when I was a Pistons fan, so Boston’s the best place for him.
There was one player in Celtics green who my fury cannon could never properly lock on to, a dignified soul, untainted by Celtics’ filth. Ray Allen. And now he’s gone.
Allen signed for Boston’s rival, the Miami Heat, during the off-season. For this he’s been considered a traitor. Pierce and Garnett don’t want to talk to him. Rondo, who had beef with Allen through most of their time together, won’t even mention his former team-mate by name, instead referring to him as “that guy”. This, despite Allen being one of the primary reasons the Celtics hung that last championship banner.
Celtics fans are disgusted with Ray’s lack of loyalty. But doesn’t loyalty work both ways? Where was loyalty when Boston tried to trade Allen? He played through injury, played hard while his role in the team’s offence was marginalised, when he was replaced in the starting lineup. But still the fans are mad.
Oh yeah, the fans. I hate the fans too.
