Boston You're My Home

OK

As you know I am a New England sports fan, born and raised. I often blog about the Red Sox and my silence after the Superbowl this year probably spoke volumes and perhaps it was a bit two faced of me. Lets face it, I am a big baby... pun intended

Let me say this. Each sports team that I celebrate (or curse) represents fond memories of my childhood. Being raised in an almost all male house (with the exception of my tomboy mom), I learned about Boston sports at a very young age. One of the biggest bonding moments with my father was at the old Boston Garden. Or should I say The Gahden. Back before tickets were as big of a financial burden as today's gas prices, going to a sports event in this town was like going to McDonalds.

That being said, I used to go to the Celtics games with my dad as a young child and watched the "BIG 3 " of my time, Larry Bird, Kevin McHale and Robert Parrish in the early 80's. So a hearty congratulations to the Celtics for winning their 17th NBA championship. Although the game was played at a new Boston Garden, seeing folks like Bill Russell, Bob Cousy and John Havelcheck gave me that old feeling of driving in my dad towards north station early in his red Toyota corona hatchback...of course no seat belts and he was probably drinking a Narraganset for the ride over. We would stop at the north end for some Pizzeria Regina and head in to the rat infested Garden hoping we wouldn't have a cement girder in my our way and watched the games. At the time we had only 14-15 banners for NBA championships. Now we have 17.

I love the old parquet floor, I love the accents, Red Auerbach's cigar, the pipe smoking leprechaun, the noise, the fans...the Celtics of old and of new. This has been a renaissance long in the making.