Thank you, gentlemen

Well the twenty foot stares in ten foot rooms have been the rule of the day for me, today. And it may be that way for me for a while. Sighs... long sighs. The other night, with seven minutes left in the fourth quarter of the seventh game, it all simply slipped away —like some small boat loosed from its mooring in a moving stream... with no one aboard.

It felt that helpless watching.

It was a heck of run though for our Boston Celtics. Despite the sad showing in Game Six and the sad result of Game Seven, I think it is only fair now if Globe columnist Dan Shaughnessy makes a public show of eating every printed copy of the article he wrote two weeks ago dismissing Celtic chances against the daunting Miami Heat.

We gave them a run for their money.

Over the past couple of weeks I've really enjoyed watching the games and on occasion the thought has occurred to me that I shouldn't be so entirely dismissive of sports when I go off complaining about our flawed politics —descending to the level of mere sport. (That sounds like something I would say, right?)

There's actually some stuff I've noticed in following the Celtics that I wouldn't mind seeing a bit more of in our public life. Sure the rivalries can get heated, irrational hatreds can come to the fore. (Father forgive me my utter contempt for D-Wade.) But then there are statesmen like Doc Rivers who have the ability to step outside the rivalries and pay due respect... when it is indeed due. (Like for Lebron after Game Six). There's a level of respect there among the true seekers —an honesty about the rival contestant that doesn't for a second discount one's own integrity —dull one's own desire or diminish one's heart. Just the opposite.

Watch Doc's post game comments and tell me where you find something lacking.

And there are the moments like KG's pushups in Game Three. Slammed to the floor so hard in play beneath the basket —rather than howl in anger or protest, Garnett composed himself like he was in pres-season practice and he was doing those kinds of exercises you do for your coach and your team when learning something deep down is so important —to yourself —and to them. You could write a whole lot of words and never quite get the entirety of what those KG pushups said —to the Miama Heat, to his own Celtic team mates —to the Universe. That was some first class human being right there.

And now there's this feeling... sure it hurts. Losing sucks. But there's some lesson in it, too —about what cannot be lost —cannot be taken away —not if you bring it in the first place.


Thank you, gentlemen.