Well, I wasn’t sure if I should write this entry. Being a deeply superstitious person, I don’t want to jinx the upcoming NBA finals, but I feel that I needed to post something about the Celtic’s
meteoric rise. Much to Julie’s chagrin, for the first time since she’s been a Melanson, the Celtics are in the finals. Which means that I am a verified schizophreniac, crazy on game days and relatively normal (although more ESPN centric) on off days. She’s always known of the family affinity for the Celtics, but due to their lowly status over the past 20 years, she hasn’t had to deal with me in “playoff mode” as I apparently blurted out during one recent episode. Sure, she’s had her brushes with my crazy sports nature during the ’95 Cowboys Super Bowl run (early on in the relationship, she’s probably blocked this one out) , the Red Sox World Series in ’04 and ’07 (including nightly conversations with Dad breaking down each game) and Italy’s ’06 World Cup title (which included hijacking brother Mike during the family reunion which Julie and I were in charge of, to go to an Indian Casino to watch Italy’s semifinal game against Germany. Wow, that didn’t seem so crazy at the time.), but they weren’t the Celtics. I can sense Julie starting to shake nervously just reading this.
I really feel that the blame should squarely fall on Dad’s shoulders. :) Growing up I could always count on a few things, Mr. Kirby not seeing how “wide open” I was on the Lafayette Elementary School field during recess, regular wood cutting retreats to the mountains followed by weeks of stacking cords of lumber with blackberry faces on them and watching the Celtics playing late into May and June sitting on the couch next to Dad. Dad indoctrinated us all. Sure, there were some rebellious points for most of us, Bob with the Knicks, Mike with the Hawks and Pacers and even myself with the Suns, but we all have Celtic green running through our veins. Living in rural California’s only impact on us was that we weren’t able to go to the games in person. We proudly displayed our loyalties on Tom’s masterpiece of a Celtic backboard and our homemade Celtic shirts (rest in peace DJ #3) deep in enemy Laker country.
Bird, McHale, Parish, DJ, Cornbread Maxwell, Ainge; they might as well have been part of our family. They certainly brought our family together for me. The memories I have watching games together are too numerous to count, Mike being thrown off the couch following a Bird jumper against Atlanta, Mike and I jumping around in an empty house screaming while taping the “Bird steals the ball” game against Detroit for Dad because he was at the Saturday night session of stake conference and Dad taunting Grandma (wish she were here for this, she would have relished this year’s playoffs) during the ’84 Lakers/Celtics finals. There were a million double thumbs up/YES!!! moments from Dad.
As I am the obsessive sports fan of the family, they probably made more of an impact on me than the others, but maybe not. What I do know is that it was something special for me. Thanks Dad, for spending that time with me, watching the games, telling me stories of the Celtic glory. It’s been a while, but a glimpse of the glory is back.

Come to think about it, this has been a crazy last few sports years for me. The Sox won in ’04 and ’07, the Cowboys are resurging, Italy holds the World Cup and is competing in the Euro finals, BYU is coming off of back to back 11-2 football seasons and is getting serious BCS buzz for next year and now the Celts are back. Could this be the cherry on the sports sundae? We’ll see. (Can we dig out the old backboard and prep it for an ’07 on the border?) What we do know is that we are in for a solid week and a half of basketball madness. Sorry Julie, but welcome to the Melanson family for real.
BEAT LA! BEAT LA! BEAT LA!