Sometimes (most times, if you get down to the bare wood of it) fairy tales are just tales. Reality and perfect endings simply don't make bedfellows every often, strange or otherwise.
Which brings us to Boston yesterday, and Game 1 of the Eastern Conference series between the Celtics and Bulls.
The perfect ending here, on a tragically imperfect Easter weekend, would have had the Celtics' pocket dynamo, Isaiah Thomas, going for 33 points in a victory in front of a raucous home crowd that held him close in perhaps the way only fans can manage. It is the most trite of pronouncements to say some things (hell, most things) transcend the sporting arena, but yesterday did; the day after Thomas' younger sister was killed in an automobile accident out in Washington state, basketball became simply a child's game from the moment he stepped onto the floor, his anguish evident.
He wept. The Boston fans, some of them, wept with him, and held up signs assuring him they had his back. And then ...
Well. And then, Thomas played the game off its feet, scoring those aforementioned 33 points with six assists and five rebounds, putting his team on his back as he has so often this year.
And the final score?
Bulls 106. Celtics 102.
Which is to say, life has no script. And endings aren't always, or even often, perfect.
As if everything else hadn't made that clear already.
No comments:
Post a Comment