52 GAMES OVERTIME: CELTICS-LAKERS

Thursday night, and the stink of Super Bowl XLVI still hasn’t cleared. All of the writers bitching about Gisele complaining (God forbid a wife shows loyalty to her husband) or Rob Gronkowski partying (God forbid an athlete takes pleasure in a season that included division and conference titles) aren’t helping.

I need a palate cleanser. So I head to Bukowski Tavern in Inman Square for beers. And, oh yeah, the Celtics are playing the Lakers at TD Garden.

I grab a seat at the sparsely populated bar, grab a tasty beverage and prepare for Round 20,000,000 of the greatest rivalry in professional sport. Plus, the Lakers actually have a dude on their team named Metta World Peace.

“Dumbest name ever,” a guy near me says, and I have to agree. His old name – Ron Artest – was working fine until he beat up a random spectator.

Bukowski isn’t a sports bar. A few dedicated fans watch the muted t.v.’s at the bar, but for the most part people direct their attention elsewhere.

Though low-scoring, the game is actually quite exciting. The Celtics and Lakers go back and forth, back and forth, with neither team ever building much of a lead or holding it for very long. The Celtics have better perimeter shooters, especially Ray Allen, who scores two of the first three Celtics baskets, including an and-1 runner to open the game. Allen, it seems, doesn’t age.

The rest of the Celtics do age, however, and that’s no more visible than when they try to guard 24-year-old center Andrew Bynum (7’0″, 285 lbs.) and 31-year-old power forward Pau Gasol (7’0″, 250 lbs.). “Try” being the operative word. No matter whether the Celtics use Kevin Garnett, Jermaine O’Neal or Chris Wilcox, none seem capable of boxing those two out. They combine for 41 points on better-than-50 percent shooting, plus a whopping 11 offensive rebounds (plus 20 defensive). The Celtics as a team manage just one more offensive board than the Gasol-Bynum duo.

Because the Lakers have the statistically worst offensive bench in the NBA, their dominance in the paint never lets them take control of the game. But they keep chipping away at the Celtics’ tiny lead, turning a four-point deficit after one quarter to three points at halftime.

The few fans watching the game are certainly rooting, but they don’t seem to be staking their lives on the outcome.

“I only have so much space in my life for sports,” a guy sitting next to me says, and because he self-identifies as a Pats and Sox fan, there’s just no place for the C’s. He isn’t the only viewer not fully invested.

“If we’re not getting blown out by the Lakers, I’m happy,” my friend Graham Wright of the local band Oilhead says.

The muted screens spare me the halftime mumblings of Shaq, Charles Barkley and the other TNT Basketball guys, but it can’t save me from Craig Sager – a man who dresses so garishly he has a blog dedicated entirely to his wardrobe. And facing the added celebrity of a Celtics-Lakers game, Sager doesn’t disappoint:

Wright describes Sager’s look as “[Futurama character] Zapp Brannigan meets Willy Wonka, with a dose of the Joker.”

However you describe the suit, all I know is my eyeballs suddenly hurt… a lot. And I have no idea what questions he asks anybody.

The Celtics go on a brief run early in the third, highlighted by a steal by Allen that turns into a three-pointer on the other end to go up 60-53.

I could watch Ray Allen shoot threes all day long. If there’s any art to basketball, Allen is the Van Gogh of shooting. He is, simply, perfect.

But back come the Lakers, and Gausol scores an and-1 basket to put the Lakers up 64-62. They start the fourth up 67-64.

Three fourth-quarter buckets from Paul Pierce help tie the game 74-74 midway through, and Mickael Pietrus‘ trey puts Boston up 77-75. But I’ve been avoiding mentioning a certain Laker. A deadly, evil Laker. Maybe the evillest of all the Lakers, since he might also be the best: Kobe Bryant.

“I fucking hate Kobe Bryant,” another guy near me mutters. “He’s like the jocks I went to high school with who literally thought they shit ice cream.”

Bryant’s field goal ties the game 77-77, but Rajon Rondo hits a runner to put the Celtics back up. Another and-1 from Bynum gives the Lakers another lead, but Allen hits one more three, getting a loud reaction from the other end of the bar. Allen finishes with a team-high 22 points, running unceasingly up and down the court to get open or clear out defenders.

Unfortunately, Boston’s shitty interior defense bites them, and Gasol tips in the tying basket with nine seconds left. The game goes to overtime when the Celtics run the worst-planned (let alone executed) inbounds-play I’ve ever seen.

The Lakers take the first lead of overtime when Bryant makes a ridiculous cross-over move, hitting a 20-foot jumper with the shot-clock winding down. He finishes the game with a game-high 27 points, though I could swear I’ve only seen him hit three or four baskets.

Following another Lakers basket, Pierce scores five points to give the Celtics a brief lead. But just as the Celtics’ lack of size cost them in regulation, it cost them in overtime. Bynum scores another tip-in, and on the other end Gasol blocks Allen following a miss by Pietrus to end the game.

The Lakers win, 88-87 in overtime. They out-score the Celtics in the paint by eight and out-rebound them by 10. That, ladies and gents, is the ball game.

The loss is, of course, disappointing. But despite the Celtics’ recent success, no one believes they can win a title. Thursday’s game showed why: they’re too old, slow and small to handle the more athletic players and teams in the NBA. They can only win against teams that, like themselves, lack an interior game. Meet an opponent who likes to go inside, and the Celtics are screwed.

I leave Bukowski in decent spirit despite it all. Inman Square might not be the sports hub of Cambridge, but sometimes all you need is a beer and a game.

Matt Goisman writes about a game each and every week from in and around Boston called “52 Games.” But as a dedicated sports-nerd, one game a week isn’t always enough, and occasionally a second is needed to properly satisfy him. A few days ago, he watched the Super Bowl at Sweet Caroline’s. Next week, it’s live coverage of the 2012 Beanpot! Keep up with him here.