The Sound of the Suburbs

Like everyone else watching Friday night, including one of the greatest players in hoop history, Earvin Johnson, I thought Kevin Garnett's early second foul in Q1 was dumb. Not once but twice Garnett slapped Dwight Howard's arm like he was trying out for UFC.

What a moron, I thought. What a moron, Magic and Jon Barry echoed at halftime on ESPN. What morons, it turned out, we all were.

Yes, it was Nate Robinson who came off the bench when Rajon Rando went down due to yet another of Howard's flagrant fouls (I still say he should have been ejected and suspended for his near-concussion-causing smackdown of Paul Pierce in Game 2, a clear blow to the head that typifies this dumb kid's game) to light up the TD Garden and prove Doc Rivers a prophet with his prediction that Little Big Man -- on the day of Gary Coleman's death -- would win Boston a playoff game.

And indeed he did, knocking down shots, making great passes and hustle plays in Q2 to provide the spark the aging Celtics needed, and giving them six full days of rest before facing either LA or Los Suns.

But IMHO it was Garnett who set the tone early after the war that was Game 5. He came out angry,

and in immediate retrospect it was his double slap on Howard in a game that was called close from the get-go that made the difference.

Because he sent a message to Orlando early that you are not going to have a beatdown free-for-all as the Magic had in Game 5. He acted angrily in getting his second foul, and Celtic fans' stomachs turned as a result, but in the final analysis it was the pivotal moment in the series.

After that Rondo was decked by Howard but Boston stood its ground, Robinson stepped up and the rest is history.

Danny Ainge must now be acknowledged as a great GM not only for his trade for Garnett and his draft day deal for Ray Allen, but now his Eddie House-for-Robinson deal could mean another banner hanging from the Boston rafters.

Because Eddie House would not have done what Robinson did in Game 6. And now Rivers must include Nate in the rotation, and look out Jordan Farmar, Goran Dragic or whomever it is when the smoke clears in the WCF.

Robinson, long accused of being a ballhog during his Knick days, stepped up after a long silence and could now emerge as the X factor in The Finals since, as we all know, LA's bench is weak, especially in the backcourt.

I am sure I ain't the only guy to recall Nate's regular-season visit to LA last year when he went wild against the Lakers with a monster perf that came up short at the buzzer but will give him confidence if and when he takes the court at Staples.

This Celtic team reminds me of the 1969 group that snuck into the playoffs and, thanks to Don Nelson's what-goes-up-must-come-down shot in Game 7, keeping Jack Kent Cooke's balloons in the balcony in one of the greatest games in the storied LA-Boston rivalry.

Being a fan of neither but a Laker (i.e. Kobe) hater at heart, I can only root for Boston at this point. And I think they will win it all but predictions are a fool's game.

And props to Glen Davis for showing up Friday night after suffering a major head blow at (again) the hands, er, elbows, of "Superman." For such an NBA-manufactured image, Howard is a hack. Wilt, Hakeem and Kareem never hurt anyone with out-of-control play, which was Howard's trademark in this series. Go home and look at the film, Dwight. And while you're at it, grow up.

Meanwhile, Vince Carter showed he was no Hedo Turkoglu, from missing two free throws at crunch time to his average performance the rest of the series. Give me tattooed love boy Matt Barnes any day of the week.

Now Boston rests while LA and Los Illegals sweat it out.

Boston in six over either.

JFC, did anybody watch Orlando-Atlanta on Tuesday night? In my everchanging playoff book, Dwight Howard, Vince Carter and enforcer Matt Barnes have gone to the front of the line as NBA Title Faves.

Yeah, I literally can't even remember who they steamrollered in round one but they're about to do the same to Mike Woodson's Hawks. So much for Atlanta being battle fresh after nipping the Fear The Deer Bucks.

Sidebar: Anybody see the classic wire story how a pair of actual deer crashed the party at a Wisconsin bar DURING Game 7 Bucks-Hawks to wreak havoc? No? Well, look it up. Unreal.

Here's guessing their field goal accuracy was better than Brandon Jennings, whose fine rookie year ended in a volley of bricks. Time will tell if the Knicks erred in not drafting him. Odds are they did.

Anyhoo, it's all about LA, San Antonio, Cleveland and now the geriatric Celtics, but ignore Orlando at your peril, Vegas. These studs are on a mission, got a six-game taste of the Finals last year and won't be cowed if they get that far this year. And they just might.

This team reminds me of the classic English PezBand's version of "Hippy Hippy Shake" (I Can't Stand Still!!!!). In other words, veiled dynamite.

Turkoglu's departure didn't catch them by surprise. They just reloaded with a more motivated not to mention talented player, Vince Carter, who actually fits their system better. Add to that a healthy Jameer Nelson (remember last year's Finals? Skip To My Lou, God love him, subbing for Nelson, inherent controversy over an injured player's return, C Lee missing a not-so-easy lob, which would have turned the tide.

Bottom line: Orlando is quite pleased with its new backcourt of Nelson and Carter, let alone tattooed love boy Barnes (the Rick Mahorn of the franchise, a walking poster child for Don't Fuck With Me), Rashard Lewis, Howard and the great Gortat (sounds like a magician, another reason to love him) and that spells trouble ... for the rest of the NBA.

This is why we love sports.

We all fall in love with some team's regular-season performance (i.e. Cleveland), expect them to win before realizing, ultimately, that they are just like US. Meaning they turn it on when they have to. But yeomanlike daily greatness means squat at crunchtime.

Who works hard 52 weeks a year? Nobody.

Who flips the switch at crunch time in their jobs? All of us.

Athletes are no different. Except for the fact they make a shitload more money than you and me.

Still, they get through the dog days, coast along, flash brilliance when necessary, then get it up when the money is on the line. And as the wise man said, Follow The Money.

That's why Orlando is a good bet. Kobe and Gasol are on the same wavelength, not to mention Fish and Artest to a lesser extent (age and freak factor being the intangibles) so they may very well get to the end, but as opined previously, San Antonio is healthy and equipped with four killers-Dice/Duncan/Manu and Mr. Longoria. If George (don't call me George Roy) Hill steps up, they will beat LA.

But I'm off task (not yet crunch time in MY job). God love the NBA playoffs. TNT should apply the We Know Drama slogan to the Ernie/Charles/Kenny circus, cuz they're at ground zero. Too bad ABC has the finals. If Greg Anthony is still on board, I may have to watch with the sound off.

Do you wanna marry ... a lumberjack?

I didn't think so. Kinda like watching the Winter Olympics. Pass.

Bad enough the Games start with a horrible death in the most exciting event offered -- and not to belittle in the least the poor man and his loving family because my heart goes out to them -- but it just puts a damper on the whole event. And yes, what a horrible bastard I am demeaning the efforts of all the global athletes who have given their hearts and souls for years in search of gold.

More power to them.

I'll take the jingoistic tactic and stick to our dumbass American wheelhouse: hoop, football and baseball. Isn't it about time for pitchers and catchers to report?!

Makes me wonder if Gaylord Perry always got to camp on time, getting that spitter in gear in the crackling Florida February air, and Satchel Paige too ... I don't think so.

So Marcus Camby gets moved by the Clippers for a couple of journeyman and 3M bucks. Donald Sterling, true to form, dumps the third leading rebounder in the NBA for next to nothing, meaning if Brandon Roy gets healthy, Portland makes a run in the West and might even make it to the WCF depending on the draw. Go Blazers!

What is it with MC anyway? Among the most traded players in league history yet by all outward appearances a good citizen, good teammate and hard-working baller who does what it takes to win and then some; best of luck to him in the cozy confines of The Rose Garden. Camby is the perfect guy for Portland; an expert rebounder who knows how to play the glass, which will come in handy when Rudy Fernandez starts heaving 3s. Rudy is a budding star, a deadeye legend in his own mind, and MC will only make him better because there's no better longshot bet than a gunner who misses a heave then gets it back in the same spot for a deuce. For that to happen, of course, it takes a village ... and a rebounder.

I love this game.

Most interesting note about the Dallas All-Star game was three studs clearly telling their coach they needed a blow: KG, Paul Pierce and Tim Duncan. Minimal minutes played. Holding it for the playoffs. Prudent move, gents.

As noted previously in this space, Boston is saving it all for spring, as well they should. They're likely headed for a No. 3 seed and a first-round test v. Larry Brown's Bobcats, who will be a tough out. Boston can only be glad it won't draw Atlanta, who owns the Celtics, in the first round. Stephen Jackson, Gerald Wallace, the rejuvenated and underrated Nazr Mohammed (another doofus Dumars deal) will prove an obstacle in round one, particularly for Boston. If Orlando and Cleveland finish two-one, they will wipe the mat with Miami and Chicago/Milwaukee whomever in the first round while Boston expends so much energy beating Charlotte by the time it gets to Orlando, the Celtics could be chump bait.

Of course, the theory is Boston got Sheed to clamp down Superman but good luck with that. I still won't count Boston out but, barring injury or a major deal tomorrow, the Celtic get flattened by Orlando who then give LBJ and the Cavs all they can handle, with or without Stoudmire, Jamison or Troy Murphy.

Still, Cleveland will win the East because it is their time and, spare me the West deets, LA will be there at the end.

But I repeat myself.

The 82-game NBA slog takes forever, somehow seeming longer than the 162 MLB year, because baseball has its slow, inexorable axis turning season unlike basketball, which is such a speed-freak game due in no small part to the fact our nightly highlight diet consists of high-flying threes and slamaroonies.

Baseball moves at its own speed while hoop fans are poised for the post from day one. But you gotta pay the rent if you're an NBA owner, so there.

Frankly, I can't wait for baseball because the opening season Yankees-Red Sox series will offer more cumulative drama than every NBA game in March combined. But when the playoffs start, ah, suddenly every possession will be War.

I can't wait for any number of reasons:

Chauncey Billups and Denver, the tattooed love boys of Colorado, who will push every opponent to the limit; San Antonio making one last Alamo stand, McDyess, Jefferson and Blair rising up alongside the aging but still killer in a short series nucleus of Duncan/Parker/Ginobili; eighth seed Houston-Portland-New Orleans or Memphis throwing a scare into LA while everyone bitches that all aforementioned above .500 squads should make it in while the pathetic Eastern back-of-the-bus teams make it in with lousy records; Rondo putting Boston on his Kentucky back and taking those old legs as far as they can go; Vince Carter on the spot with his career on the line, knowing he'll be tabbed as nothing less than a perennial failure if Orlando doesn't make it back to the Finals; and Cleveland, the current pick to Go All The Way, with the incumbent pressure to satiate their leader LeBron into staying with only a title fitting the bill...bring it on already.