Not Your Daddy’s Detroit Pistons


What’s crack-a-lacking Celtics fans?  Today our heroes face a once fearsome foe.  A once reveresome foe.  They were once the premiersome foe.  The times, they are a changin’.  After reaching the Conference Finals six years in a row, the Detroit Pistons are now struggling just to make it to the playoffs.  I, for one, could not be happier.

There is a not a team in all of sportsdom I hate more than the Pistons.  Not the Lakers.  Not the Yankees.  Not nobody.  I hold a grudge.  I remember things.  Like my main man Horton always says, “Always remember and never forget, an elephant’s faithful one hundred percent.”  I’m faithful.  One hundred percent. 

So when Isiah Thomas says some things about the Legend, I take it personally.  I don’t forget.  When Bill Laimbeer gets uppity and has the unmitigated gall to clotheslines the Legend, I take it personally.  I don’t forget.  When the Bad Boys reach the Finals at the expense of my team, I take it personally.  I don’t forget.  But don’t you forget this sports fans, if Kevin McHale does not break his foot, there are no Bad Boys.  Word to your mutha.

So now, when I see these Pistons reeling, I giggle.  Like Eddie Murphy’s father, “I kick the motherfucker with everything I got, Eddie!  And then I giggle my motherfucking ass off.”  I giggle as the Pistons freefall.  I giggle as they lose eight in a row.  I giggle as the Answer comes down with a back injury.  I giggle as Rasheed Wallace loses his goddamed mind.  I giggle as Rip Hamilton publicly airs his dirty laundry.  I giggle at all of it.  Just like I’ll giggle today when the Celtics do this to them:

Roll Celtics, Roll!

Tags: Boston Celtics NBA Rasheed Wallace