The Celtics played my Timberwolves on Friday night, and, in unbelievably typical fashion, my team lost because of another last-second bonehead play.
With seven seconds left to play and the score tied at 86, coaching genius Randy Wittman apparently thought Marko Jaric was the best option to take the last shot. So naturally, MarJar hurled up a 25-footer, which clanged off the rim. Fortunately for the home team, former BC Eagle Craig Smith got the board with five seconds remaining. But as he was falling out of bounds trying to save the possession, Smith panicked and threw a Hail Mary-like pass directly to Ray Allen.
Allen, looking like a six-year-old who got exactly what he wanted for Christmas, sprinted down the court for the game-winning shot. Long story short, Allen got mauled by Jaric and missed the shot, but something called Leon Powe drained the ensuing layup, forcing my beloved squad to celebrate yet another "moral victory."
I didn't even care.
We knew the Wolves would be this dreadful. We knew how terrible the Celtics were last year; and we knew the trade that sent our beloved Hall of Fame-bound star to Boston was for the very players who made Boston so awful in recent years.
As expected, Al Jefferson is a great offensive weapon but still can't play defense or escape a double team to save his life. Gomes is still a decent player on a terrible team, and knowing Kevin McHale, Gomes will receive an inexplicably gargantuan contract extension after this season. Telfair is decidedly mediocre - although at least he's kept his mediocrity on the court, as opposed to being in jail. Ratliff is broken, and Gerald Green still has no idea how to pass, participate in an offense or play defense.
But Friday night's game wasn't about wins or losses: It was, for Wolves fans, entirely about Kevin Garnett's return home.
Because of the trade, Timberwolves fans never really got the chance to say goodbye or pay respects to the player who not only brought fans to the Target Center for 12 years but also completely revitalized an entire state through his passion for the game and his undying loyalty for his beloved "Sota."
We finally got that chance Friday night.
Shortly before the game, public address announcer Rod Johnson's voice boomed across the arena: "A special welcome to a player making his return to the Target Center."
And then Johnson continued into the introduction Wolves fans have heard so many times before and won't ever forget: "From Farragut Academy High School, number 21, Kevin Garrrrrnett!"
Twenty thousand fans - the first sellout of the season - began to cheer more loudly at that moment than at any other during this miserable season. This moment in this game is what we'd been waiting for all year long. Before Garnett even became visible, the fans at 600 First Avenue went certifiably crazy, giving a several-minute standing ovation to the player who loved us just as much as we loved him.
Walking just barely onto the court, Garnett smiled and raised his right hand to wave to the hometown crowd. The cheers and chants grew louder and louder, and the smile quickly turned into that legendary grin of his, as he pounded his heart with his right fist.
I'll never forgive Kevin McHale for how badly he mistreated and mismanaged the only memorable player in team history, but Friday night finally gave the fans a chance to say thank you to our guy.
With each heart pound, there seemed to be a mutual understanding - a mutual appreciation and respect for what could have, and should have, been.
Ross Marrinson is a senior majoring in international relations. He can be reached at ross.marrinson@tufts.edu.
