Stuck in a Moment and They Don’t Want Out of It

Celtics Stoked To Make Own History by Raising Banner 17

Couper Moorhead
Celtics.com
June 17, 2008

"Seventeen, Seventeen."

It began long before the final buzzer. It started before Gino arrived for the final time this season and Paul Pierce jumped onto a sideline chair to boogie alongside the human cigar. It started before owner Wyc Grousbeck lit up a stogie courtside, the girth of which did Red proud. And the celebration continued throughout the night.

In fact, if you open your window, you may still hear it.

The Boston Celtics' 17th NBA Championship, clinched by their 131-92 manhandling of Game 6, was in little doubt from the third quarter on. This left the crowd with time to kill, or, more likely, capture it with their deepest memories. The chants for banner seventeen began in the fourth, as strangers yelled with strangers, and as the moment grew nearer, hugged one another.

It was all they could do: yell, hug, smile and cry. As Pierce gave Doc Rivers one of NBA history's first fruit-punch Gatorade showers, it's what his teammates did, too. By the time Glen Davis launched the victory ball into the jumbotron and it flashed '2008 World Champions,' Celtics were clutching their children and spilling onto the parquet -- the smell of cigar wafting to the rafters.

"Defense," Rivers said was the first thing he told his team before the season. "We play defense, we're going to win a World Championship, and that's exactly what they did."

Fans chanted the word over and over in agreement.

Wheaties boxes in arm, the first Celtic champions since 1986 made their way through the gauntlet of extended high-fives into what was once their locker room -- now a jungle of champagne.

Kevin Garnett's fist raised up and down as he led the jubilee in what can only be called the happiest mosh pit on earth. Eddie House and Scot Pollard hugged. P.J. Brown held his child and soaked it all in. Nobody stayed dry.

Standing in the corner against the plastic draped over all the walls, Kendrick Perkins held child in one hand, Larry O'Brien trophy in the other, as cool as ever.

"It means a lot," he said. "It really hasn't hit me yet...but right now I'm just happy to enjoy the moment."

For most, it might take some time for their accomplishment to sink in. It will be, as Brown said, "A long night, and a long summer." But Big Baby was one of many not nearly about to let things settle, dashing towards Perkins and the trophy.

"Let me sing to it, let me talk to it," he said.

As every Celtic seemed to, he kissed it. The golden trophy would be covered with lip marks and hand prints, only to be doused in beverages and have the process start all over. But out in the hundred-decibel lighter interview room, Garnett was feeling half a year's worth of unbridled passion being rewarded.

"I just want to say, other than my kid being born, this has got to be the happiest day of my life right now. I'm going to be hoarse, I don't plan on sleeping for a week and months," Garnett said after taking a moment to compose himself.

"I'll be forever linked to this city, and I'm more than grateful for that."

Once finished with the press, he let out one final 'Go Celtics,' a heavy exhale, and for that brief moment as he left the room, he looked as free from his own intensity as he might ever be.

Though he did not speak last, Boston's captain, through every low that preceded this high, earned the last word.

"It means everything," Pierce said. "I'm not living under the shadows of the other greats now. I'm able to make my own history with my time here, and like I said, this is something that I wanted to do. If I was going to be one of the best Celtics to ever play, I had to put up a banner, and today we did that."

"Oh, my goodness, man, this is just an unbelievable experience. I can't put into words how to describe how I'm feeling right now."

Of the dozens of sights that will endure, perhaps none will more than that of Pierce on the podium, Finals MVP trophy clutched above his head, making a noise that will forever echo in the halls of the new Garden. His words didn't matter as much as the sound -- the roar of a champion.