End of April update: This is weird.

Derek Lowe throws a no-hitter. Darren Oliver throws a shutout. Burkett's 2-0. Pedro's back in charge. Manny's back hitting Triple-Crown type numbers. Shea's still hitting. Johnny Damon has 9 stolen bases (I haven't checked, but I believe that's a Sox team record). The Sox are hitting .297 as a team. The opponents are hitting .213.

Like I said...weird.

Back as far as the Bulls' dynasty of the '90s, and continuing to the current edition of the Lakers, I've never been a true believer in Phil Jackson's coaching abilities. The duties of any coach with Michael Jordan, or Shaq and Kobe, pretty much consist of cuing up the VCR to show game footage, then rolling the ball out on the court at gametime. I always said that Phil Jackson should take the "Vancouver test"; that is, see how he does coaching a team that isn't prefabricated to win a title.

Phil still hasn't taken me up on the challenge; he's too busy "coaching" the overloaded Lakers in the playoffs. But his former GM Jerry West now has taken the Vancouver test, which is of course now renamed the Memphis test. It's a pretty neat challenge for the NBA legend. The Grizzlies have a couple bona fide young superstars but not much else. If West can help develop them and surround them with good role players, it will be fun to see how they develop. By then, no doubt, Phil will have swooped in to coach Eddie LeBaron and the rest of the 2007 Knicks.

With the possible exception of Michael Jordan, no one player can singlehandedly win a playoff series the way a goalie can. Pitchers can win 2, maybe 3 games, but they sit on the bench the rest of the time. A quarterback has no control over the defense. But a hot goalie can take over and take the opponent clear out of the picture.

Based on what I saw of this series, and what little ingrained hockey knowledge I have, the Bruins outhustled, outskated, outshot, outworked, and outhit the Canadiens all series long. But the only thing that goes on the scoreboard is the number of times you put the puck in the net. And Jose Theodore just had no interest in letting the puck get past him. Sometimes you've just gotta throw your hands up and admit it.

Well, there goes the Grand Slam. Ugh.

After falling behind 2-1 to the Hornets, Orlando star Tracy McGrady guaranteed the Magic would win Game 4 and send the series back to Charlotte. He also said he's better than Hornets go-to guy Baron Davis, despite the fact that Baron's torching Tracy for a triple-double in Game 3 got McGrady assigned to guard someone else. Um, OK.

But the most telling sign of McGrady's delusion is that he wants to go play Game 5 in Charlotte, "in the little hive...with the little bees.". I'm not sure making fun of another team is the right idea for a guy who plays for the Orlando Magic. The team whose PA announcer has to scream orgasmically every time a Magic player scores so the fans know to yell. The team that popularized the Tinkerbell music on every free throw. The team whose web site includes a coloring page. The team that retired the number 6 for the fans (the "sixth man" - give me a break) then "graciously allowed" the remains of Patrick Ewing to wear it for one season. Honestly. My money's on the little bees.

I'm not really worried about the Celtics' Game 3 Loss in Philly. Allen Iverson played the game we feared he'd play all along (of course, the fact that he took 20 free throws to the Celts' 18 didn't hurt) and the rest of the Sixers played about as well as they physically can. And Boston was still a late 3 away from winning the game. My biggest worry is that the refs will continue to allow Pierce to get knocked around and send Iverson to the line if someone breathes on him. The NBA and NBC thrive on star power; Iverson has it, Walker and Pierce don't quite, yet. So Philly gets the cheesy fouls until further notice.

In 1986, the Hartford Whalers knocked off the Quebec Nordiques in the first round of the Stanley Cup playoffs. Some of you kids may have no idea who those teams are. Actually, a lot of kids in 1986 weren't sure, either. But they're now playing in the great historic hockey towns of Raleigh and Phoenix.

Anyway, the reason I bring it up is that the Whalers, now in exile as the Carolina Hurricanes (they will return one day), beat the Devils today for the second playoff win in franchise history. The ghosts of Geoff Sanderson, Andrew Cassels, Sean Burke, and all those other guys I almost won a Cup with on Sega '93 are looking down and smiling.

Let's talk for a minute about redemption.

If you had asked me a year ago which athletes on the Boston sports scene were on my "oh no" list, I might have mentioned Walter McCarty. Locked into a long, big contract thanks to Pitino, Walter played little and contributed even less. He was untradeable, unreleaseable, and might as well have worn an albatross suit on the bench instead of his warmups. Now, 2 games into what looks like a long playoff run for the C's, Walter has lit a fire under the Celtics twice. I don't doubt that they'd be playing for their lives tomorrow, instead of for a sweep, if it wasn't for Walter's contributions.

And then we come to Derek Lowe. Last year as a closer, he briefly had his name changed to "The Beleaguered Derek Lowe"; he was blowing saves, terrifying and enraging Boston fans, and inventing the Derek Lowe face. This year, he's starting and results today were encouraging.

I'm telling you, the mojo is back in this town. The City Where Dreams Go To Die has become Sportstown USA. The Bruins will come back and beat Montreal. Nothing's stopping us.

Apparently, Drew Bledsoe took out an ad in local papers to give his thanks and love to the Pats fans of New England. I doubt I'll be at the new Foxboro Stadium on December 8th, when the Bills come to town, but I hope to God that I can hear the applause from here, 30 miles away. This may be the classiest thing I've ever seen. (Thanks to N.E Sports MediaWatch for the pointer.)

Another day, another trifecta in Sportstown USA. Pedro flirted with destiny again today (OK, it was the Orioles, but nobody else has managed to no-hit them yet). The B's tied it up in Montreal. Bill Belichick reached Page 34 on his list of ways to keep Drew from coming back to haunt him.

But, as you may expect, I want to talk hoops again. I've been going to Celtics games at the Fleet regularly since it opened, and it never matched the Garden. Too big, too clean, too devoid of history. Until tonight. Tonight, as the Celtics knocked the Sixers back to the ropes, the place was absolutely rocking. We all stood for the last 5 minutes, fans cheered without being cued to by Jumbotron (that in itself is an exciting development), and the crowd (I think) actually had a hand in tonight's win. To set up: the C's led through the end of the 3rd quarter, but the Sixers took a 4-point lead midway through the 4th. Then we, the fans, got serious. It was literally too loud in there to hear the PA announcer or the whistle. Philly, who's playing skittish anyway, crumbled. They let Paul Pierce get open a couple times, which is the ONE THING you don't want to do in the 4th quarter. They couldn't get the ball to Allen Iverson, and as a result, Derrick Coleman had to fling up a last-chance 3 with 45 seconds or so to go. (Side note: has Coleman ever been in the 2nd round of the playoffs? I'll look it up if I have to, but if anyone knows....)

And I can't say enough about some of the Celts tonight. Antoine Walker carried the team through the first 3 quarters while Pierce was struggling, then gave The Truth the spotlight in the 4th. Antoine, shockingly, has become the consummate team player. Walter McCarty solidified his position as the most amazing story of the playoffs, igniting the team with 10 points. Kenny Anderson and Tony Battie nailed some big shots down the stretch. And Paul Pierce...money. I'm just plain giddy.

(For the record, I got home tonight in time to catch Barkley and Kenny Smith on TNT agreeing that this series isn't coming back to Boston. Personally, I think the home crowd gives Philly the energy to take Game 3, then the Celts finish them off in 4. And Detroit is looming as a fantastic series. Beating the Nets to get to the Finals will seem anticlimactic.)

All the Boston teams were off Monday night, so it was 24 hours of waiting for the March to the Grand Slam to continue. (Side note: I heard Queen's "We Are The Champions" on the radio earlier. I vow not to get sick of that song if I hear it 1 billion times over the next six months.) So let's take a minute, shall we, to peruse the MLB standings?

In the AL East we have the Unstoppable Red Sox. Not too shabby. In the AL West, Seattle; no big surprise there. The NL West, as you might expect, is led by the Giants.

Then things get interesting. The NL Central leaders? By 2 games, it's your Pittsburgh Pirates. In the words of legendary coach Pete Carroll, "I'm as shocked as you guys." And straight out of Bud Selig's worst nightmares, the AL Central and NL East leaders, respectively, are North America's teams - the Twins and the Expos. The only acceptable non-Boston-Grand-Slam outcome of the 2002 season involves these two riding their collision course with destiny. And I guarantee that, if it happens, Bud will be AWOL.

If the season started now, the AL matchups would be Sox/Indians (just yell "Pedro!" and you've got a sweep), and Twins/Mariners. In the NL, the Pirates get Arizona and the Giants go north of the border. I like that matchup the best. Barry vs. Vlad. Dusty vs. Robbie. Silicon Valley vs. St. Lawrence Seaway. Garlic fries vs. poutine. Bring it on.

Bob Kraft said it best:

"Drew Bledsoe is a special player," Patriots owner Bob Kraft said. "I have great respect for all he has done for this franchise. ... He gave our fans some of the greatest memories in the franchise's history and there will always be a special place reserved for him in the hearts of Patriots fans."

Very true. And I would have liked to think that he would earn more for the Pats than a 1st-round pick. For Drew's sake, at least he has a chance to make that pick as bad as possible. For New England's sake, it means that Brady is now The Man -- officially. And for Buffalo's sake, it means the Rob Johnson era is now finally and irrevocably over. And that's why I think Buffalo won this deal.

Paul Pierce - 31 points, 11 rebounds, 4 steals?

Antoine Walker - 20 points with a bad thumb?

Walter freaking McCarty? Mr. April? 14 points and a half-court buzzer beater?

The Celtics don't beat, don't bother, but dismantle the Sixers? Coach O'Brien's breaking-down-the-opponent skills approaching Belichickean proportions?

To quote the Ghostbusters..."we're ready to believe you." Right now, I think the Bruins will get going, the Sox will keep winning and Boston will win the Grand Slam in 2002. That's what I believe right now, I said.

In order to commemorate my birthday, here's a list of 28 things I really like about sports, in no particular order.

1.) Sizing up potential first-round playoff opponents.
2.) Hearing the words "the (your favorite team here) made a big trade today" and immediately going into full mustache-twirling mode as to all the implications.
3.) Sitting in an unfamiliar baseball park and noticing your eyes wander, trying to find the unfamiliar location of the balls/strikes count and the score.
4.) Wearing your team's cap or shirt (not at a game) and causing a random momentary bond between yourself and some other fan.
5.) Striking up conversations with folks around you at the game; you can be best friends with total strangers for a few hours and never know or care anything about their lives outside the stadium.
6.) Scoreboard watching way too early in the season.
7.) The sarcastic applause that greets a pitcher who finally throws a strike after walking 2 batters on 8 pitches.
8.) Going to an away game and finding yourself in an oasis of other Visitor fans. Particularly if your team jumps out to an early lead.
9.) Have I mentioned the easy joy and comfort of strapping yourself in and listening to Jon Miller and Joe Morgan call a game for 3 hours?
10.) Or Sean McDonough and Jerry Remy?
11.) whatifsports.com.
12.) retrosheet.org.
13.) Plotting out a trip to visit every major league ballpark, even though you know you can't afford it and couldn't get the time off from work anyway.
14.) Watching Major League for the 417th time. Even the heavily edited-for-TBS version ("Want me to drag him out of here? Kick the (snot) out of him?")
15.) Idly speculating what your walking-up-to-the-plate song would be. Mine: "Crazy Train" (obvious), "Shove" by L7 (nicely obscure), or "Cult of Personality" by Living Colour.
16.) Out-of-nowhere teams: recently, the 2001 Twins, the 2001 Super Bowl champion Patriots, the (shhhh) 2002 Pirates.
17.) Any Larry Bird anecdotes. Especially the one where...well, I'll just lift it straight from Jack McCallum's book, Unfinished Business.

"I was talking to my agent, and he heard a deal on his speaker phone," said [Celtics benchwarmer Michael] Smith. "Milwaukee sent Ricky Pierce to Seattle for Dale Ellis."
"I can't believe that," said Bird.
"What? The trade?" said Smith. "I can't believe it either."
"No," said Bird, "I can't believe your agent has a speaker phone."

18.) The NCAA Tournament Selection show, where they always have a live feed of a bubble team like B.C., who always gets in, and a bubble team like Butler, who never seems to. 18b.) The canned righteous indignation of Dick Vitale about the stupidity of the Tournament committee.
19.) Football teams that start off 0-10 and make you wonder if they can really go 0-for-the-season.
20.) Gritty ballpayers like Brian Daubach and Lou Merloni, whom you don't fully appreciate unless you watch them every day.
21.) Knowing beyond the shadow of a doubt that, if Phil Jackson had to coach Memphis or Cleveland or any other team that didn't allow him to inherit 2 superstars, that his "genius" label would disappear faster than Indians fans after a 3-game losing streak. And knowing that I could have coached the '98 Bulls. Come on, Phil. You're a fraud. Admit it.
22.) The fact that the Pittsburgh Steelers still stubbornly refuse to put stickers on both sides of their helmets.
23.) OK, Simmons beat me to it. But I love basebrawls. I love the words that are only used in basebrawls, like "donnybrook", "fracas", and "imbroglio". I love anticipating the kung-fu moves the pitcher will flail away at the charging hitter with. I love when the guys run out of the bullpen to join the fray (my Dad asks why they run all the way in to the mound, when they can just start a mini-brawl right there in the bullpen area).
24.) Teams adopting a faux-retro look with their uniforms, trying to recreate a history they don't actually have. Anaheim Angels, I'm talking to you.
25.) Watching the poor schmuck, picked out of the crowd to shoot the halfcourt shot or kick the field goal during the time out, fail miserably. In some strange perverse way, I think I'd really like to be booed mercilessly by thousands of people.
26.) The last minute "I've got an extra ticket - you in?" call from a friend.
27.) The fact that this is America, and it's amazingly easy to avoid paying any attention to golf, wrestling, NASCAR, or soccer if you don't want to.
28.) Going to a minor league game with Grandma and Grandpa and sitting in their carefully-chosen regular seats -- right behind a pole. Sorry if that last one didn't make a lot of sense. But I found out just a couple of hours ago that my Grandma died, and that's the first, and most persistent, sports-related memory of her that popped into my head. So it's the best way I could think of to remember her here; if you knew her, you'd understand.

8 innings pitched. 1 hit. No walks. 6 strikeouts. Vintage '99.

And Shea Hillenbrand, your All-Star starting 3B, provides all the offense Pedro needs with a 3-run triple. I love this team.

Vitaly Potapenko is out for at least the first round with a knee injury sustained in last night's essentially-meaningless (though I did get my Antoine Walker bobblehead) Atlanta game. The C's were remarkably injury-free this year. While other Eastern powers lost guys like Iverson, Mashburn, Jordan, and Grant Hill (he's on Orlando, right?), the only Boston injuries were a few games here and there by Anderon, Battie, and Joe Forte (who, oddly, seemed to get back spasms every time someone was ready to come off the injured list). And now it begins. The most dreadful omen: Dr. Jack likes the Sixers.

There was a coach-firin' in Milwaukee today, and it's not who you'd expect. The Brewers canned manager Davey Lopes today. I guess that somehow they expected Lopes to succeed with the team. Despite ownerships' pursuit of the bottom line at the expense of contending. Despite shadow owner Bud Selig's stubborn insistence that the Brewers are a small-market team and by God should play like one in order to lend some credibility to his revenue-discrepancy theories. And despite the general lack of desire ownership has shown towards success. And now new manager Jerry Royster is supposed to get some wins out of the same quagmire. Talk about being put in a miserable situation, huh?

But the team on the other end of town made their own miserable situation. The Bucks entered the '64 Phillies/'78 Red Sox wing of the Astoundingly Fast and Painful Collapse Hall of Fame, losing 18 out of their last 26 games, capped off with a train wreck of a game in Detroit. This, you remember, is the team that almost made the Finals last year and was a solid pick to make it this year. Instead they go home to watch the playoffs. Anthony Mason can go work on how to rewrite his resume without mentioning that he was Milwaukee's big free-agent signing this year. And Coach George Karl (print and save those three words) can start scouting houses in Chapel Hill. Nice knowing you, Bucks; you've got nobody to blame but yourselves.

Well, it's official. The 3-seed Celtics play the 6-seed Sixers in the first round. Dagnabit. They had a chance at Charlotte or Orlando, but instead face a team with poise and experience, that causes some real matchup problems for them. The keys? Well, Allen Iverson's health, obviously. It would take amputation or smallpox to keep A.I. out of the lineup in the playoffs; so the Celts have to be ready to assume he'll be functioning at 100%. It worries me that the presence of Mutombo in the middle (tonight at 8:30 on Fox) will force the C's to jack up even more 3's than usual. One approach could be to let Iverson run amok and work on shutting down the other guys; the problem is that the other guys are Eric Snow and Aaron McKie -- perfectly capable of putting the team on their backs for stretches.

The one time the Celtics beat Philly this year, it was largely on the spunk of the newly-acquired Delk and Rogers. Whether this bodes well for the Celtics in a five-game series remains to be seen.

Oh well. We suspected that the road to the Eastern Conference Title would lead through Hoagietown sooner or later. Frankly, though, I would have preferred later. At least I'm not in Milwaukee.

We always assumed that if a Sox infielder won the Triple Crown in the next few years, it would be Nomar. Well, maybe not. Shea Hillenbrand is continuing to mature into a patient, intelligent, and very dangerous hitter. You could actually see him make adjustments from one at-bat to the next. I think the kid's for real.

With one game left and the 3 seed locked up, it's time to look back at the Celtics' season and remember who got them to their first playoff series in years. So here's a rank of all the C's players, in ascending order of their importance.

(I implore you...any fans of any other playoff-bound NBA teams (sorry, Knicks) - send me a similar report on your own team and I'll run it. I've got to know what the Sonics are all about.)

12 (tie). Joseph Forte, Randy Brown, Greg Minor, Roshown MacLeod, Lucky the Leprechaun, Nate Driggers, The Tag-A-Kid Kid, Brett Szabo, Gino. Randy Brown played 6 minutes in a game in December and may have been the most productive out of the bunch. Forte, the third first-round pick the Celtics botched last year, played a total of 39 minutes and it showed. If you don't know who the Tag-A-Kid Kid and Gino are, you ought to get to the Fleet Center more.

11 (tie). Kedrick Brown and Mark Blount. I feel sort of bad lumping these two together; what you see is all you'll ever get from Blount, while Brown showed some flashes in very-limited playing time. Had this been the '96 Celtics, Kedrick might have played 25 minutes a game and gotten a few Rookie of the Year votes. As it was, he got to see a lot of America from the bench and tantalize us with an occasional dunk or an out-of-nowhere rebound.

10. Tony Delk. All I knew about Delk before the Phoenix trade was that he was a guy capable of going for 20 one night and 4 the next. Streaky, to put it mildly. Well, since he came here, it seems like there have been a lot more of the latter than the former. I won't give up on him yet.

9. Rodney Rogers. I'm not quite ready to give up on Rogers, either. My Dad has -- he says he has no basketball head -- and I fear he may be right. It's the little things that make you scratch your head about Rodney: he overruns rebounds, takes way too many 3's for a big guy (though that's probably why the Celts went after him), and looks vaguely surprised every time a pass hits him. Not good signs.

8. Vitaly Potapenko. The Ukraine Train doesn't translate well on a stat sheet. But I don't think anyone in the league works harder. He never gives up on a rebound. He's feisty; seeing him mixing it up with Kenyon Martin last week bodes well for the budding Nets-Celtics rivalry (did I just type that?!?). He's got a pretty sweet touch from 12 feet that he can take regularly, since no defense would even consider guarding him from there. Still, he seems to have done wrong to Coach O'Brien; his minutes have eroded over the year and he's even logged a couple of DNP-CD's. Puzzling.

7. Walter McCarty. Has matured from a grim reminder of the excesses of the Pitino Era into a bona fide sparkplug. Locked into a 550-year contract, Walter started playing to earn it in the second-half of the season. Providing some instant offense and tons of defensive energy off the bench, Walter (I kid you not) single-handedly won a couple of close games for the C's this year. I never thought I'd say this...but I LOVE WALTER!

6. Eric Williams. Although E tends to have more than his share of quiet nights, there have been plenty of times when he was just the right guy to come off the bench. For one thing, he's not married to the 3-pointer, and takes the ball in more consistently than any of the other 2-3-4's on the team. For another, he plays a good defense; he's bottled up Iverson, Kobe, and McGrady for stretches at various times this season. A bit too inconsistent to be a serious 6th Man of the Year candidate, but he's not too far out of the ballpark.

5. Erick Strickland. The Man From Nebraska got plucked off the waiver wire at the beginning of the season and contributed right away. His offensive skills as a point guard are a little suspect; he benefits much more from playing the 2-guard and getting fed by Kenny Anderson. But he always seems to hit the clutch 3, and plays outstanding defense. He gives his body to the team; he's absolutely fearless when it comes to taking a charge and has a knack for coming up with big steals.

4. Tony Battie. Tony's small for an NBA center, but makes up for it with hustle and heart. He'll never score 20, and 10 rebounds is a good night for him, but in the Celts' offense, where he often has to battle 4 opponents for a rebound, his determination speaks for itself.

3. Kenny Anderson. I'll admit it. There have been times in the last few years when I would have happily traded Kenny for warmup jerseys, but he's grown into being an actual leader on this team. He's gotten better at finding the open man, he's gotten much better at hanging back and getting open for a 15-footer, and his defense has improved as well. Just the fact that he's no longer a liability on the court would have been good; the fact that he's an asset is superb.

2. Antoine Walker. #8 has adjusted well to the fact that he's no longer the Alpha Dog in town. He's not out trying to get 35 a night; instead, he's become a floor leader, a tireless worker, and one of the most legitimate triple-double threats in the league. He still makes some head-scratching decisions, and his popularity with the refs still regularly lands him in trouble. But I still think the mistakes he does make are a result of him trying too hard. And you can't fault him for that.

1. Paul Pierce. Firmly established himself as The Man this year. Vaulted from a player with mad potential to one of the top 5 players in the league, no questions asked. He's turned in some AMAZING plays this year, his defense has improved markedly, and he's become the first consistent 4-th quarter go-to guy the Celtics have had since...well, you know. But the best new aspect in The Truth's game (scroll down) is the fire. Push him or make a bad call against him and he gets The Look in his eyes. The Look that says, "Bad idea. Now I'm mad." I haven't seen that look in a Celtics player since...well, you know. Do not get in this man's way.

Bring on the Hornets.

Derek Lowe pitches 7 incredible innings and then sweats it out while the bullpen almost throws his W away. Since I'm already invoking Ted Striker way too much this week..."I guess the foot is on the other hand now". Even though I only got to watch 2 out of the 4 games, this was a very satisfying series against the Yankees. Let's not kid ourselves; the Sox still have a long and difficult road ahead of them, but half a game up is better than three and a half out, which I think we all secretly feared last Thursday.

Sunday Column Roundup: Gordon Edes on Rivera's choke yesterday...Peter May recaps the Celtics' season...Howie Carr anticipates being stuck in his mansion tomorrow...Joel Sherman is puzzled as to why the Yankees haven't clinched yet...Pete Vecsey is down on the Bucks...Don Hudson says farewell to the Hornets...NBA Awards from Peter May and Sam Smith...Mitch Albom says the Tigers are bad...Phil Mushnick hates everything.

Though it's hard to believe on this humid 75-degree day when the Red Sox are the big story, the Real Hockey Season begins next week. Congratulations to the Bruins, who sewed up the East's #1 seed with a 7-1 drubbing of Pittsburgh. Belated congratulations to the Red Wings, who clinched the league's best record before Christmas. Certificates of Participation will be awarded to Nashville, Tampa Bay, Anaheim, and other teams who are used to getting them. Oh yeah, and the Rangers.

Hockey has always been my fourth sport. I didn't follow the Bruins at all until the Whale left for Carolina, and even now, I'd be hard-pressed to tell you more than nine or ten guys on the team. But you can't live in New England and not know that a Bruins-Canadiens series to open the playoffs is BIG. Celts-Lakers big. (More on that in June.) Cowboys-Skins big. And though my natural tendency is to root for the team from Canada --since they did, you know, invent the sport -- I'm prediciting the Bruins bid adieu aux Habitents en 6.

Part of being a Sox fan is being able to ride the emotional roller-coaster ride even second-hand. I was at work today, but thanks to the magic of the Internet, was able to follow every mood swing on CNNSI.com's gamecast. I cried when Pedro spotted the Yanks 4 in the first, I perked up when they cut the lead to 1, I got happy when they scored 2 in the 8th, then yelped (really!) when the screen showed that Shea Hillenbrand took The Artist Formerly Known As The Automatic, Unhittable Mariano Rivera out of the park. Then I chewed off half my fingernails when Urbina came in to close. Then I found out that the game ended when Alfonso Soriano became the first baserunner Sox catchers have caught stealing all year (nice managing decision, by the way). I'm back in line. There's another roller-coaster ride tomorrow.

Well, my fears were unfounded. For tonight, at least. Nomar sat out and wound up having as many hits as Derek Jeter (0). But Grady Little is officially on notice that I'm watching him like a hawk. I don't know how much longer Red Sox Nation can put up with Ugueth Urbina as closer; he's giving off serious "Derek Lowe in early 2001" vibes. Not good.

And of course this is premature and probably wishful thinking, but this year's Yankees do look different than the clubs of the last few years. When the Yankees came up in the 9th, their three leadoff hitters were Nick Johnson, Alberto Castillo, and Alfonso Soriano. Johnson homered off Urbina, and Castillo was lifted for pinch-hitter Posada, but still. It's not quite Tino, Brosius, and Knoblauch. Those guys scared you every single time - I heard they were coming up in the 9th and I started sweating like Ted Striker on the approach to Chicago. On paper, the Yankees might be improved, but the heart and soul and win-at-all-costs mentality that's been there on the field seem to be lessened. Like I said, probably wishful thinking. And I know the win-at-all-costs mentality still exists in the front office, which is why I still think Vladimir Guerrero and (maybe) Scott Rolen will be in the Bronx by August.

And so, once again, the mood of every New Englander for the entire summer rests on your right arm, Pedro Jaime Martinez. Shut the Yankees down tomorrow and we'll be dancing in the streets. Look like you did on Opening Day and there will be hundreds crammed into the pews saying Rosaries. I say he shuts 'em down.

I'm perplexed and puzzled by Grady Little, who's taken his first page out of the Jimy Williams/Don Zimmer/Pete Carroll/M.L. Carr "Treasury of Questionable Moves" playbook tonight. To set things up, in case you haven't been paying attention: the Sox tonight play the Yankees. Both teams are in the AL East, the Yankees have conistently gotten the better of Boston (which is a bit like saying that Germany has consistently gotten the better of France), and the Red Sox are operating this year at a disadvantage, personnel- and money-wise. So Grady decides to give Nomar Graciaparra the night off. Now, I know Nomar was hurt all last year, but for God's sake, rest him against freaking Kansas City! When you're trying to catch a team, and have been trying to catch them for 80+ years, you put your best team on the field. Every time possible.

Missed this yesterday, but Buffalo columnist Bob DiCesare implores the Bills to go after Drew Bledsoe. It makes me a little antsy to think that Drew might go to an AFC East rival, but I also think that Bill Belichick has a list handy with 500 ways to beat him. Of course, since Sports Illustrated is killing us with the cover jinx again (it's Tom Brady this week), there's an excellent chance that Drew will be key to the Pats' 2002 season. If he's still around. But will the Bills even be able to play this season, considering that Rob Johnson is still partially buried under the Rich Stadium turf and a foot of snow?

Now that we know the C's are hosting a first-round series, let's figure out who's playing who and who we'd like the Celtics to play. And yes, for the record, I know the Western Conference champ will win it all. I don't care. If the season ended now, the matchups would look like this:

1/8. New Jersey vs. Toronto.
4/5. Orlando vs. Philadelphia.
2/7. Detroit vs. Milwaukee.
3/6. Boston vs. Charlotte.

I have to admit, I like the Celtics/Hornets matchup better than Philly. Ideally, the Raptors will pass Milwaukee, putting the Sixers and Bucks over in the Nets' half of the bracket. I think the Celtics can take Charlotte and take their chances against the winner of the Det/Tor matchup. Looking at the schedules, the Pistons are likely to go 2-2 the rest of the way (wins at Chicago and vs. Milwaukee, losses vs. the Spurs and at Jersey), and the Celts should (should) go 2-1, beating NY and Atlanta but not on the road in Minnesota. So it would take some doing to get the better record and the second-round home-court.

But in the long run, the Celtics can beat anyone (see: 2-0 vs. Lakers) or lose to anyone (see: 0-2 in Chicago). So we'll have to crank up the cliche-o-matic and take it one game at a time. I remember when I would have been happy with the 8-spot. I think that was 3 weeks ago.

Celtics win. Celtics clinch home-court in the first round. The NBA playoffs are now safe from both the Knicks and the Heat. This takes the sting out of a stinky Red Sox performance tonight.

It's official. There will be no playoff games played in Madison Square Garden this year. That "whoosh" you just heard was the sound of 50,000 Nets and Islanders hats flying off the shelves to meet the demand of all the brand-new lifelong fans.

It's always a little jarring to see old familiar uniforms on unfamiliar faces. I was bummed the first time I saw Mike Greenwell's #39 being worn by Creighton Gubanich (Creighton Gubanich?!?). And tonight I see, for the first time, that Rey Sanchez is wearing Johnny V's number 13, and Willie Banks is wearing Sabes' #17. I'll get used to it, but it's weird.

As for the game...just fine, thanks. Manny finally got off the HR shnide, Tony Clark showed some fancy leather at 1st, and Tim Wakefield was his usual capable self, making only one mistake (a grand slam to the execrable Chuck Knoblauch). In the words of Major League manager Lou Brown..."startin' to come together, Pepper, startin' to come together."

In 1984, I got up early every Saturday morning to watch The Baseball Bunch, the show where Johnny Bench brought a different major-leaguer in every week to teach a group of kids one of the finer points of the game. And in every episode, they'd have commercials for the American League Red Book and the National League Green Book, which had stats, player profiles, and -- most importantly -- the year's schedule. So every year since then, I've diligently made up an imaginary trip for myself which would take me to every major league park. I know, I'm a dork. But the point is, I made up my 2002 trip last night. It begins on July 4th (Expos at Phillies) and ends September 15th (Devil Rays at Toronto). I won't actually be taking this trip, of course. But if anyone wants to slip me $10,000, I will. I'll even plug your website/product/worldview relentlessly on the road. This is a serious offer.

King Kaufman at Salon.com has a pretty good column today about the Rockies and how they're still not sure how to best utilize Coors Field to their advantage. And, to Kaufman's credit, he resisted the easy "mountain oysters in the visitors' clubhouse" joke that I would have gone for in paragraph 2.

Basically, he says (and Rockies GM Dan O'Dowd confirms) that a team built to win at Coors will by definition struggle on the road, where the laws of physics are followed. And O'Dowd admits that even the best pitchers in baseball wouldn't look so good if they had to pitch there regularly. What's it all mean? When your team's GM frankly says he doesn't know which way to go to build a team, that's a warning sign.

Ah crap. Disregard all that below. Just put me down as agreeing with what he said.

Yikes. I've got to leap to the defense of my favorite online columnist, since not one but two of the blogs I read regularly have taken out axes and savaged him in the last 24 hours. The Fat Guy and Tony Pierce have attacked ESPN's Bill Simmons for being uninformed, frivolous, and unworthy of a writing gig at the hallowed ESPN.com. The fact is, Simmons doesn't present himself as a scholar of the game. If Rob Neyer were to start writing about movies, that would be noteworthy, but I happen to have followed Simmons since his days at Digital City. He's never presented himself as more than a sports fan who gets excited and depressed about his teams at the drop of a hat, frequently digresses into pop culture, and enjoys sports just for the simple things they offer. In short, like 90% of sports fans out there. And he regularly cracks me up 2-3 times a column; I won't apologize for that.

I love reading Rob Neyer's stuff, but I think if I had to sit next to him for 9 innings, I'd suffer from Stat Overload. Honestly, I don't even know how an OPS is calculated. It's like a QB rating; I think it takes into account the Dow Jones average and the high tide. My guess is that most of the managers in the majors don't know half the stats that Neyer does; can you really picture Jimy Williams using OPS and WHIP and BYOB to overrule the little voice in his head ("Mr. Weebles" -- named by Simmons)? My fantasy league counts hits, home runs, innings pitched, and other stats that I can figure out without a slide rule. And that's good enough.

Just had to get that heard before the jury.

It's been a long time since I've rooted for a team that's headed to a playoff series, but I do remember how necessary it is for fans to stir up some animosity toward the team you're about to play. (A one-game playoff, like in football, isn't quite the same.) If the Red Sox are going up against the Indians in the '99 ALDS, you've got to get angry about Robbie Alomar's spitting, Jaret Wright's headhunting, or the fact that Cleveland fans consider themselves diehard, when no one was able to get 3,000 of them together at one time until 1995. If the Celtics are playing the '88 Pistons, you just look at Bill Laimbeer's evil face for 30 seconds and you're all set.

Which leads me to the Celtics-Nets game tonight. I had nothing against the Nets coming in; I'm usually for sudden, dramatic turnarounds. Jason Kidd's re-energized that...well, not that city. That state doesn't sound right, either. That particular patch of swampland. Anyway, there's a chance the Celtics might meet the Nets down the line, and tonight I worked up enough animosity to last me through a 7-game series.

Kenyon Martin is a punk. He's gotten more flagrant fouls than Rasheed Wallace this year, and after watching his hatchet job on Vitaly tonight, I'm convinced he probably deserved every one of 'em. And -- get this -- V got thrown out of the game. Which makes me think that the Nets are getting some residual love from the refs; since the Knicks aren't going to be in the playoffs (go ahead, read that line again and savor it), the NBA needs one New York-area team to keep ratings afloat and interest level high. Since the Knicks aren't going to be in the playoffs. God, I love saying that. Of course, 2 years from now, they'll have Yao Ming, DeJuan Wagner, and that high-school kid from Ohio, so enjoy it while you can.

Am I off-base with thinking that the refs are coming to New Jersey's aid? Well, probably. But we'll wait until we see Spike Lee, Woody Allen, a Baldwin, and any other erstwhile-Knick-fan at the Meadowlands before we truly judge. At least a playoff run will give the Nets money to install some lights at the arena; that place was darker than Laimbeer's soul tonight.

We can put all our Pedro doubts on hold. For a few days, at least. The Man breezed through six innings today in Crabtown, striking out 5 and giving up one unearned run. Sox announcers Don Orsillo and Jerry Remy were impressed that Pedro's fastballs were moving, that his location was on, and that he was following through after the pitch like he did in the old days. Good signs all; he'll go against the Yanks this weekend and we can all hold our breath again.

An aside: the camera panned the Sox bullpen at one point and I got my first look at the 2002 model Rich Garces. I read in several places that El Guapo lost 30 pounds this offseason. I've got to admit, I'm hard-pressed to tell where he lost them from. Maybe he had a hollow leg put on.

Sunday Column Roundup: Michael Holley talks to Jim Palmer about Pedro...Gordon Edes likes the PawSox...Peter Gammons says Major League pitching stinks...Pete Vecsey slams Pat Riley...Bill Conlin examines 2001's most over/underpaid ballplayers...Kevin Kernan goes out on a limb and says the Yankees will win the East...Stan Savran says the Pirates are stirring...Tony Kornheiser praises Jordan...Jay Greenberg rates all the players in NY...Mike Lupica says what we're all thinking: "You can still be a good American and wish baseball could leave 'God Bless America' out of the seventh inning stretch now."...J.A. Adande says it's crossroads time for the Clippers...Phil Mushnick hates everything.

A follow-up to the Chuck Finley brouhaha: from a link on Tony Pierce's blog we find a list of ballpayers who were murdered. And that's not even counting the suspicious death of Big Ed Delehanty. Not to say that Finley came close to being murdered, but just wait until he gets in front of the merciless fans in the Bronx.

How cool was this? The Celtics clinched their first playoff spot in 7 years with a drubbing of the hated Lakers. L.A. proved once again that without Shaquille O'Neal, they are, in my dad's words, "a really ordinary team". You can Kobe-this or Kobe-that all you want, but the guy simply can't carry a team. Like tonight. 26 points sounds good, but not on 18 free throw attempts and a pitiful 5-25 from the floor. Without the posters and commercials and kowtowing from the refs, Kobe is just another talented player.

So I'm more optimistic about the C's going into the playoffs. I think they're capable of beating anyone in the East, but I can also easily envision Philly or Milwaukee taking them out in 4 in the first round. And it looks like that's who they'll be playing. So we'll see.

Non-game highlight of the night had to be the National Anthem, sung by Jamie-Lynn Sigler, who plays Meadow Soprano. She sang before a Pats game last fall and they never lost again all year. It's not hard to see how she could inspire anyone; I hope her magic works on the C's too.

This is really something. A Minnesota-based website, nocontraction.com, is taking bids on an actual piece of A.B.C. gum straight from the mouth of D-Backs slugger Luis Gonzalez. As of 9:30 tonight, the bid is up to $500. No doubt George Steinbrenner already has scientists lined up to extract the DNA off the gum and create a squad of elite hitters.

An amazing developing story coming out of Cleveland. Chuck Finley missed a start after it was revealed that his wife, actress Tawny Kitaen (best known for being the hot chick in the Whitesnake videos in the late 80s), had been arrested for beating Chuck up on the way home from dinner. Reports are that Kitaen became enraged when it finally sunk in that Finley would probably have to spend the rest of his career in Cleveland. Finley and Kitaen are temporarily separated; when asked for a comment on the couple's future, Finley said, "Here I go again on my own. I'm going down the only road I've ever known. Like a drifter, I was born to walk alone." He added, "I know what it means to walk along the lonely street of dreams."

Kitaen and Indians outfielder Wilfredo Cordero are reportedly in discussions with Fox to star in a new special, "Celebrity Spousal Abuse Boxing".

Ordinarily, I hate the whole "this guy's on a pace to do such-and-such" thing, but let's face it. This guy really is on a pace to hit 324 home runs. If Barry does keep this pace, and there's no reason to think he won't, buy tickets now - he'll hit #74 on May 13th vs. Atlanta, and #756 on July 18th in Saint Louis.

The fun never stops. Three pitches into the second inning, Sox #3 starter Dustin Hermanson winced, grabbed his groin (quiet, you) and hobbled off the mound. And the game looks like it has a good chance of being rained out. Great news all around. The Red Sox will now be taking applications from anyone interested in pitching in Baltimore this weekend.

I inspired myself to create an All-Star Team of forgettable 80s baseball players. The only rule for selection is that each player had to inexplicably make it to one actual All-Star Game. All beneficiaries of hot springs and the one-player-per-team minimum, these guys truly are the cream of a weak crop. Listed are the teams they represented in the Midsummer Classic. For the All-Star rosters, I used the incomparable baseball-reference.com.

1st Base - Wally Joyner (Angels, 1986). Wally actually had a great rookie season. Very few bad first basemen make the All-Star Team, since so many at this position can hit. But Wally never made it back, which should tell you something.
2nd Base - Johnny Ray (Angels, 1988). Johnny was a decent 2nd baseman for Pittsburgh, but could never crack the Sandberg/Herr stranglehold on the All-Star picks. So he got himself to Anaheim and was selected on some kind of lifetime-achievement deal.
3rd Base - Chris Brown (Giants, 1986). A highly-touted prospect for San Francisco, Brown managed to end his career before Roxette did. baseball-reference.com lists Brown in the statistical company of Scott Cooper and Rick Schu. That ought to tell you something.
Shortstop - Kurt Stillwell (Royals, 1988). Kurt actually cracked double-digits in home runs in 1988. Considering he hit 34 in his career, this was a remarkable accomplishment.
Left Field - Ruppert Jones (Padres, 1982). Ruppert had 147 career homers and got a World Series ring with the '84 Tigers, but I'll always remember him for opening his mouth really wide before each pitch. I guess the '82 Padres really needed an All-Star.
Center Field - Jerry Mumphrey (Astros, 1984). I don't even remember seeing a baseball card of this guy. I think he may have been one of Kool's Gang in his day job.
Right Field - Glenn Wilson (Phillies, 1985). The '85 Phillies featured Wilson, Von Hayes, Juan Samuel, Don Carman and Shane Rawley. What a roster! That almost qualifies as a Forgettable 80s Player All-Star team right there. That's not including Steve Jeltz, who tried to bring back Jheri-curls 10 years before Sam Jackson starred in Pulp Fiction.
Catcher - Dave Engle (Twins, 1984). I don't remember him at all. Honorable mention to Rich Gedman, whose swing was so loopy that after 1987, the Red Sox just issued him a sand wedge to hit with (or, more to the point, to miss with).
Starting Pitcher - Ken Schrom (Indians, 1986). Schrom set the AL on fire in '86 with a 14-7 record and 4.14 ERA. By 1988, he was the ace of the retirement-home softball team.
Reliever - Bill Dawley (Astros, 1983). I always got Bill Dawley confused with Ken Dayley. And, as it turned out, it didn't matter a whit which one was which.

Loyal Reader Andy in Pittsburgh sends this link to Rob Rossi's column in the Post-Gazette. Rossi on the Lakers: "...unless their celebration results in bitter disappointment for Bostonians, does it really count?"

Rossi also gives props to Bob Walk, who rose above having the Worst Name for A Pitcher Ever to have a perfectly-forgettable mid-80s career. Which reminds me: If any of you see anything on the Web that deals with a perfectly-forgettable mid-80s baseball player, PLEASE let me know. I've already seen the Von Hayes page, so don't send that one.

I was dismayed. The Red Sox lost yesterday. The Patriots spent the day with George W. Bush, which always makes me nervous. The Bruins were down 2-0 and the Celtics were getting waxed by Indiana.

Then the Bruins scored. Then they scored again. Tie game. Then the Celtics climbed on Walter McCarty's back, and suddenly were cruising to an 11 point lead. Suddenly I'm jumping up and down and spit-taking Mountain Dew all over the place. Man, it's fun being a fickle Boston sports fan.

The keys to the Celtics' win? Paul Pierce, as always, was money in the 2nd half. And he had pesky little Ron Artest in his face all game; I think Pierce plays best when he's mad. Walter played the best game of his life. And never underestimate the power of Isiah Thomas coaching in the 4th Quarter. How Isiah hasn't been fired yet is beyond me; he inherited the same team that Larry Bird took to the Finals. I guess we underestimated Rik Smits and Sudden Sam Perkins all along. Someone also should tell Reggie Miller that they play four full quarters. I don't see a bright playoff future for the Pacers.

Let's talk about sinking feelings.

A fat envelope from the IRS. The words "we need to talk". The Griswolds checking out of their English hotel and seeing the clerk whip out the calculator. The "Check Engine" light. Hearing that the election results are going to the Supreme Court.

Coming home from work to find that Pedro got lit up on Opening Day.

The Patriots start September 9th. Just in case.