. . . and featuring Doc Rivers as K.C. Jones

Part 1 of TATB's player-by-player look at your unbeaten, rejuvenated, and remarkably enjoyable Boston Celtics.


KEVIN GARNETT: Of course it's only appropriate that we start this thing with the fulcrum of it all. I think I got to the essence of what KG would bring to the Celtics when the deal first went down, but even those of us who long admired his work in Minnesota have enjoyed certain revelations. I knew he was unselfish, but I didn't realize he was such a clever and efficient passer, especially in feeding cutters from the low post. (If Paul Pierce doesn't set a career high for field-goal percentage, then he's not trying.) I knew he was an elite rebounder - the guy has led the league four years running, after all - but I didn't realize how easy he makes the game's hardest labor look; he's always in position, and if he gets his hand on the ball, you can be sure no one else is getting it. I've always tended to view overly vocal "emotional leaders" with a cynic's eye, but you can tell by the way his teammates react to him that there is absolutely no b.s. to Garnett's personality; he walks the walk, in the locker room and on the court, and everyone else follows. After Papi, he's the most charismatic athlete in New England at the moment, a certain Patriots quarterback included, and I'll let you know when I've wrapped my head around the reality that he actually plays for the Boston Celtics. I can't help but daydream how history would be different if Garnett had played his whole career here, but I'm also savoring every moment of watching him do everything in his power to restore a franchise's pride right now. Damn, this is fun.

KENDRICK PERKINS: He still looks like he's pre-planning his post moves rather than reading the defense and trusting his instincts, but with the offensive stalwarts now surrounding him, he's getting a lot of easy, uncontested shots, which theoretically should improve his self-confidence when the ball is in his hands. He should shoot 55 percent blindfolded, not that his offense matters on this team. He's here to do the little things - rebound, block shots, stick an elbow in Vince Carter's sternum whenever the opportunity arises - and Perkins does those things with increasing efficiency. He's a decent complement to Garnett up front, and it has not gone unnoticed how hard he's worked to shed his rookie-year baby fat and become a physically imposing NBA power forward. He's still a kid (23), yet he conducts himself like the consummate pro. Here's hoping Big Baby is paying attention.

RAJON RONDO: I think he's doing just fine, don't you? Sure, sometimes he looks like he has his master's degree from the Marcus Banks Academy of Pointless Dribbling, and I wish he was just a little bit more natural as a playmaker (as does the suddenly visible Bob Cousy, who nonetheless gives "Way-jon Wand-o" the benefit of the doubt, something he's been reluctant to do with young point guards, from Chauncey Billups to Banks to Sebastian Telfair.) But he's a demon defensively, he's so beep-beep! quick that he often beats his man off the dribble even when the defender is giving him the jumper, he's got moves like Plastic Man when he's finishing in the open court, and the early morning work he reportedly puts in with Ray Allen is paying off with a gradually improving jumper. Rondo's a bright, talented kid who seems to have the dedication to improve. Can't really ask for much more than that from any second-year player.

TONY ALLEN: Probably the only player on the team I don't particularly like. Yes, I know he's still not fully recovered from a major knee injury, and that has at least temporarily robbed him of his two main attributes as a player: his explosive leaping ability and his quickness on the defensive end. Which leaves him with . . . not much. Allen's basketball IQ is about what you'd expect from someone who blew out his knee dunking after the whistle. He handles the ball like his fingers are fused together (who were Doc and Danny kidding by suggesting he could handle backup duty at the point?), he's perpetually out of control - or should I say "Toine-like" - when he's attempting to run the break, and he's beginning to strike me as a reluctant passer. If his pre-injury athleticism never comes back, he might find himself wearing a Yakima Sun Kings jersey before he knows it.

BRIAN SCALABRINE: Funny what playing for a good team and with talented teammates will do for a player's perception. Scal is never going to look graceful at, well, anything, and he seems to be one of those guys who plays to the level of those around him; remember, when he was with those good Nets teams, he was a very useful role player who more than once tormented the Celtics. When he tries to do too much, sure, he can look like that awkward stiff from your Rec League team, but he plays fearlessly, sets a mean pick, knocks down an occasional three, and seems intent on showing Celtics fans that he's a better player than he showed a season ago. I might go so far as to say he'll be a fan favorite by season's end, a more useful version of Lakers-era Mark Madsen. However, no matter how well he fits with Garnett and friends, we must admit that he'll always be our second-favorite translucent redhead in the Association as long as Matt Bonner is around. Concord, N.H. . . . represent!

EDDIE HOUSE: We've already seen that the journeyman guard can, and will, shoot it. (If ESPN Classic actually existed anymore other than in name, I'd love to see his 61-point game from his gunnin' days at Arizona State. Sadly, an endless loop of the 2003 World Series of Poker takes precedence over anything, you know, classic.) But his real gift? Comedy. This is from ":07 Seconds Or Less," Jack McCallum's casual look at the '06 Suns, for whom House provided as many punchlines as jump shots:

House . . . is able to get to an insult with maximum expedience. He looked at James Jones's size 18 sneakers one day and said: "How do you play basketball with them big-ass skis on your feet?" When [Boris] Diaw entered the locker room wearing a pair of retro short shorts, House said, "Damn, Boris, you gotta pull your shoes up." And when [Raja] Bell showed up in a strangely patterned brown jacket, tight-fitting and zippered just below the waist, House took one look at him and said, "Damn, Rah-Rah, you look like ----------- luggage."

Comcast Sports Net should give this guy his own reality show, immediately. Or maybe he and Scal can do a buddy flick together, the hoops version of Nolte and Murphy in "48 Hours." Naturally, it would be called. . . . (drum roll) . . . "48 Minutes."

(Groan.)

And on that note, I'm heading off to bed to dream of banner No. 17 (hopefully with a plotline that includes some Beesley). I'll be back in the day or two with a look at Ray Allen, Paul Pierce, and the rest of the roster.

Nine innings 08.04.07

Playing nine innings (multi-sport edition) while feeling bad about ripping on J.D. Drew now that we know what he's going through . . .





1. Yup, apparently I'm making Kevin Garnett photo collages now. I guess it's still just surreal that perhaps the most likable NBA superstar of the last decade is on the Celtics, and I'm still savoring the whole thing, four days after the trade. It's funny, I've been trying to explain how significant this is to the lapsed Celtics fans I know, and I just keep coming back to the same point: Kevin Garnett will restore Celtic Pride. I guarantee it. He is the perfect player in the perfect place at the perfect time. He's a superstar who plays with the hunger and desperation of a 12th man. He's maniacal about winning. He's selfless, sometimes to a fault, though with Paul Pierce and Ray Allen as his wingmen, he won't always be counted on to take the last shot. He's a genuine leader who gets bonus points for once socking Wally Szczerbiak. His charisma, as those only vaguely familiar with him learned at his introductory press conference, is off the charts. He will thrive in the Boston sports atmosphere, and the city is going to adore him. There's nothing not to like about this deal, for the Celtics matter now, and if it took trading five players (including the admirable Al Jefferson and Ryan Gomes) and two draft picks to make that happen, I say it was a bargain price to pay. Of course there's no way the Celtics should be getting 9-1 odds to win the championship, and of course they need to build some semblance of a bench before they can even be considered a contender. But you've heard the the buzzword we've been throwing around the last few days - "relevance" - and no matter whether Danny Ainge's plan to restore the franchise was by luck or design, he has made the Celtics relevant by bringing Garnett to Boston. I simply cannot wait for opening night. When was the last time any of us said that?

2. I'm not saying this Barry Bonds "chase" is dragging, but by the time he gets to 756, his ubiquitous daughter is going to be married with a family of her own, Greg Anderson will have escaped from Alcatraz or wherever he's rotting away with his misplaced loyalty, and Bud Selig and his snap-on toupee will have long since gone to the great used-car lot in the sky.

3. Assuming Randy Moss's hamstring is okay - and wouldn't that be a bummer to you, me, and Mr. Brady if this thing lingers into the season? - here's how I rate the Patriots' bounty of receivers. 1. Moss (He's still got it.) 2. Wes Welker (He's already on the same page as Brady, who raves about him.) 3. Jabar Gaffney (Smart, and the longer he is here, the better he gets.) 4. Donte Stallworth (An injury-prone tease.) 5. Troy Brown (They wouldn't have brought him back if there wasn't a guaranteed place for him . . . right?) 6. Reche Caldwell (Stop staring at me!) 7. Kelley Washington (Too skilled not to catch on elsewhere). 8. Chad Jackson (Take the year off, kid, and learn the playbook.)

4. Eddie House is the definition of an NBA vagabond, but he's going to be a popular player with the Celtics. He can shoot it (and as a Garbage Time All-Star, he's not shy about doing so), and as anyone who read ":07 Seconds Or Less," Jack McCallum's excellent book on the '05-'06 Phoenix Suns, can attest, he's a clubhouse comedian, armed with countless hilarious anecdotes and one-liners. He'll be a good fit here, and I bet he's an honorary member of Garnett's legendary posse in no time.

5.Just when you thought the pink hat-pandering Red Sox couldn't get more crass, you discover they are selling autographed Jon Lester "Survivor" baseballs on Red Sox.com - and donating only 10 percent of the profits to the Jimmy Fund. Shouldn't, say, 100 percent of the profits go to the franchise's signature charity? I hope there is a genuinely philanthropic reason for this, but right now it sure looks like an shameful money grab by the Sox marketing minions, and one that takes advantage of Lester's status as an inspiration.

6. Watching a droopy-faced Roger Clemens lumber off the mound in the second inning Thursday to a chorus of Bronx cheers, I had two thoughts: 1) Thanks goodness he's finally in the twilight of his career there and not here, and, 2) Of all the dramatic things you've evah seen, Suzyn, where does this rank?

7. I'll admit I'm hooked on "The Bronx Is Burning," not that I think it's any good. Oliver Platt's portrayal of George Steinbrenner is way too cartoonish (yes, that's possible), the emphasis on the Yankees' clubhouse drama relegates the fascinating Son of Sam and NYC blackout subplots to haphazardly tacked-on footnotes, and the actor playing Reggie Jackson really looks like Jackie Chiles in an Afro wig. At least the guy playing Thurman Munson is a ringer for the aeronautically challenged Yankees captain (ouch . . . too soon?), though his portrayal fails to capture Munson's chronic grumpiness. It's a fun, mindless diversion, I suppose, especially for a child of the '70s, but more than anything it's made me want to read Jonathan Mahler's well-regarded book.

8. In my typically ham-handed way of begging you to read this week's Fox column, I've got a hypothetical for you. Say the Twins make Johan Santana, a free agent after '08 who recently voiced his frustration with the front office, available in a deal this offseason. Put on your gorilla suit and pretend you're Theo Epstein for a moment, then ask yourself this: What would you offer Terry Ryan in exchange for the two-time Cy Young Award winner? Obviously, the bidding starts with Clay Buchholz. But who else is in the package? Jon Lester? Justin Masterson? Jacoby Ellsbury? Buchholz, Lester, Masterson, and Ellsbury? What do you think it would take . . . and what would you do? Discuss.

9. Today's completely random baseball card:


This one's a hat tip to TATB writing binky Joe Posnanski, who reminded me with this piece why I fell for baseball 29 years ago, and why it's still such a part of me despite my working in a profession that turns fans into cynics.