Too Early To Hate These Celtics

(note: this column was written Saturday morning, prior to last night's game)

OK, so just who ARE these Boston Celtics, anyway? Who are these guys who are 28-3 and running amok in the NBA?

One of those "3" in the right-hand column came courtesy of the Pistons, a couple weeks or so ago, in Boston. And the Celts come to town Saturday evening, to take on our streaking hoop heroes, who are 26-7 and on an 11-game winning spiel.

This is supposed to be a rivalry in the making. I say it’s only by default. And it’s far too early for that rivalry stuff, anyway.

Why default? Look at the Eastern Conference standings. Pretty pathetic, ain’t it? Only a handful of teams north of .500. A whole bunch of them far south of it. The Pistons and Celtics, along with the suspicious Orlando Magic, are the only ballclubs with some cushion above the break-even mark. So if there’s a "rivalry" brewing between the Pistons and Celtics, it’s from process of elimination.

The Pistons have outlived all their chief competitors for conference dominance. Remember the Indiana Pacers? The Pistons out muscled them in the Eastern finals back in 2004, on their way to the championship. Then the two teams engaged in a brawl the following November, Reggie Miller retired after that season, and the Pacers haven’t been heard from since. Or how about the New Jersey Nets? The Pistons were swept out of the conference finals by Jersey in 2003, handled them in 2004, and the Nets, too, have been milk carton candidates ever since. The Miami Heat? From 2006 champs to 2008 chumps, with barely a stop in between. The Cleveland Cavaliers? Last spring’s upset of Detroit notwithstanding, the Cavs remain a one-man band, pretty much. When LeBron James missed significant time this season, his teammates struggled to win once every three games.

And don’t EVEN talk to me about the Chicago Bulls.

So now we have the Boston Celtics, who’ve risen dramatically due to the additions of Kevin Garnett and Ray Allen, to join forces with holdover Paul Pierce to form what is being called "The Big Three." And so far, it’s working well enough. The Big Three are like their automobile counterparts of the 1980s and ‘90s.

Yes, 28-3 isn’t anything to sniff about, I must admit. You play .900 ball for 31 games, you’re on to something, I would say.

But this is no rivalry, this Pistons-Celtics thing of today. Prior to this season’s resurgence, the Celtics were more off the radar than a Dennis Kucinich presidential candidacy. So forgive me for not buying into the hype.
Are these big games, these Detroit-Boston tilts in December and January? Sure, if only because there are so few games of their ilk at this point in the 82-game NBA marathon. Big, because the Pistons and Celtics are two of the three competent teams in their conference. Big, because the Celtics have been horse manure for so long; it’s nice to pair the Pistons up with someone new.

Yet a rivalry isn’t Rip Hamilton versus Ray Allen, nor Rasheed Wallace versus Kevin Garnett. Not now. They’ve only played each other once, for crying out loud -- the perennially competitive Pistons and the new-to-the-party Celtics. Let’s let it fester and brew for awhile. Would you eat the chili just after pouring in the tomato sauce and spices? And doesn’t it taste better after it’s sat in the fridge for a day or two?

Let me tell you something. A rivalry is Bill Laimbeer taking Larry Bird down with a body slam in the lane. And Robert Parish slugging Laimbeer to the floor. And Danny Ainge draining another backbreaking long bomb and giving us that combination determined/whiny puss. And Celtics radio announcer Johnny Most screaming into his microphone about the Pistons’ style of play, "Oh, the way they do things here! This is a disgrace!"

A rivalry is breaking a several-year drought in the Boston Garden to capture a crucial Game 5 win in the conference final, a year after losing in the most heartbreaking of ways in the same situation ("Bird steals the ball! Gives it to DJ, who lays it in!"). A rivalry is talk of leprechauns hiding in the Garden and Vinnie Johnson and Adrian Dantley butting heads, knocking themselves out so the Celtics can win another Game 7 on their home floor. A rivalry is Laimbeer carrying a sickle into the Silverdome (true story) in a satchel and declaring that it’s to represent how you must cut the head off the snake (read: Celtics) when its head is twitching.

A rivalry is Vinnie getting hot in the 1985 playoffs, forcing the Celtics to take the Pistons seriously -- so much so that Ainge took to calling Johnson "The Microwave."

"If that guy (William Perry of the Bears) in Chicago is The Fridge, then Johnson is The Microwave," Ainge said after VJ torched the Celtics at Joe Louis Arena one playoff Sunday afternoon. And a new nickname, a beloved nickname in Detroit, was born. I wonder how many people know that a hated Celtic coined it. Now you do, too.

A rivalry is a thrilling seven-game conference final in 1987, followed by a nearly-as-thrilling one in 1988, which vaulted the Pistons to their first-ever NBA Finals. It’s Chuck Daly taking two suits to Boston in 1989, after the Pistons took a 2-0 lead in a best-of-five first round series, explaining that "I don’t trust the Celtics. I’m taking enough clothes in case we have to play two there." The Pistons swept, negating the need for the second suit. But it was on hand, because you never know when the leprechauns will strike.

A rivalry is Dennis Rodman suggesting that Bird gets all the praise he does because he’s a white player. And it’s Celtics fans hanging Laimbeer in effigy in the Garden while Big Bill absolutely loved it.

The name on the front of today’s Boston team jerseys might say CELTICS. But the names on the back are still too fresh to have created any animosity and ill-will.

Let ‘em bash each other in the playoffs a few times, then come talk to me.